The Princess and the Princes

A Parable

Once upon a time there lived a princess. And like many princesses, this princess wanted a prince.

And so, the wise men and women of the court start searching. After many hours, they finally find a prince who might fit the bill. Among other things, he scores a 5.0 on Google Reviews, and so the princess thinks he must be, indeed, the bees-knees.

The wise men and women of the court arrange a date. The princess doesn’t abide coffee, so they choose Tea Avenue (you know, the one on Jaawatta Road) as the venue.

The princess arrives early and realizes that the prince hasn’t turned up. But so excited is she with the Perfect Google Review, she is not annoyed. Instead, she sits at one of the tables at the back and scans Instagram.

About 35 minutes after their agreed time, our princess gets a WhatsApp. It’s from the prince. “Almost there,” it says.

Still quite excited, the princess replies “No worries. Take your time.”

20 minutes later, the princess gets another text. “I’m at the entrance” it says. “Where are you?”

The princess walks towards the entrance and is horrified by what she sees. The prince is without doubt the ugliest creature in the kingdom.

Without a word, the princess steps out of Tea Avenue, walks down to Jaawatta Road, hails a passing Tuk Tuk, and goes home.

Not crestfallen, the wise men and women at Royal Park (where the princess’s court resides) continue their search. And a few hours later, they find another 5.0 Review on Google.

This time, understandably, the princess is skeptical. “He’s probably like the other one. The one with a face like a potato.”, she complains.

Regardless, another date is arranged. Same time. Same place.

This time, it is the princess's turn to be late. By no fault of her own.

The Iraqi Prime Minister is visiting his sister-in-law in Hampden Lane, Wellawatte, and all the roads in Colombo have been closed in their honour. Every road, street and lane is completely clogged with traffic.

After spending 30 minutes in front of BMICH motionless, our princess gets out of her Kangaroo and decides to walk. She messages the second prince, saying that she’s going to be a good 45 minutes late. His only reply is “Oh. Ok, Machan, ok.” (apparently, he went to St. Peters)

On the trek to Tea Avenue, our princess speculates on what this second prince might look like. Probably as ugly as the other one. “Face like a tomato, probably”, she muses. And all manner of grotesque images of the ugliest beings cross her mind.

Finally, she reaches Tea Avenue. By now there is a slight drizzle. It’s May, you see.

“Where are you?” texts the princess.

“In front. On the verandah,” replies the second prince.

And then our princess sees him.

“Damn,” says the princess. “He’s so good looking.”

She gets closer and takes a better look. No. She was right the first time. So-oo-oo-oo hot.

“How disappointing!” the princess says to herself. “I thought these 5.0 princes were supposed to be ugly.”

By now the rain is beginning to fall down. First in small buckets (Arpico), then in quite large ones (wholesale, from Pettah). Jaawatta Road, like all the roads in Colombo, is completely blocked with stationary vehicles, full of angry commuters, tired after a hard day’s meetings. And there is an inch of water on the pavement.

“I’ll have to walk, I suppose.”, the princess says, looking at her sandals.

And leaving a bewildered second prince gaping, and “Why Machan?”-ing, to himself, our princess turns back and walks home.

In the rain.