A chief purohita from a remote part of the country who is about to outlive his term in office called Number One the other day.

Highly cut up over the imminent loss of power and authority together with the concomitant perks and pleasures, the man was holding back his tears when he addressed Number One. He explained between sobs the difficult times lying ahead once his wings were chopped off. So Number One asked him how he could help him. “Please give me some position like a governing office!” the chief purohita begged. 

However, Number One expressed his regret that he could not offer him such high office. 

“I agreed to become a provincial chief when I could easily make it to Diyawanna. Now I am going to be left high and dry! Please …” He stopped his lamentation realizing that Number One was no longer on the line, they say.