“Surya charms the oceans
Giving birth to clouds
In deep ingratitude
They cover their mother in shrouds.
Apples always fall to earth
Unless they are hand-plucked
Hawwah plucked the first in Eden
And so got royally -- err -- thrown out of the garden?
From Eggless in Noida, by Bachchoo

Once again, gentle reader, I have been overlooked by ex-PM BoJo for a knighthood or a seat in the House of Lords. This is, I admit, conjecture. BoJo submitted several names, perhaps 45 for all ranks of honours in his “resignation list”.

This list is then passed to a vetting committee which can accept or refuse the nominations. It is then up to the sitting PM, now Hedgie Soongone -- sorry, I meant Sunak (this wretched predictive text!) -- to override these acceptances and rejections. In this instance the committee rejected several of the listed names, only some of which have been disclosed to the media.

What I’m getting at is that BoJo may well have nominated someone to be -- ahem! -- Lord Dhondy of Sachapir, and it may have been squashed by the dastardly, self-seeking and jealous committee or even Hedgie? Who knows!

You see, BoJo has proved through his nominations that he has rewarded with honours everyone who did his bidding. In India we’d call these maha-chamchas, though the Brits have a ruder name and call them lickers of a particular secret part of the anatomy. Just check the list.

Going to the Lords are Priti “Clueless” Patel and the current mayor of Tees Valley, Ben Houchen, who is under scrutiny for a corrupt development deal of a “free port” involving millions of pounds. He is of course innocent until proved guilty of this corruption, but he can’t be acquitted of, metaphorically speaking, the BoJo bum-lick.

But then, gentle reader, BoJo has nominated people who worked in 10 Downing Street and could supply ample and damning evidence of his breaking the rules as in “Partygate”. At least five of his nominations are of internal functionaries who know what went on with him and what went on in the Conservative Party headquarters.

Now I am no conspiracy-walla, and yet it seems likely that these honours bestowed on the “loyal and uncomplaining” apparatchiks is a sort of hush-money. Here’s a bauble, now keep your mouth shut.

Having worked this out for myself, and not received the long-awaited nomination as Lord Dhondy of Sarbatwalla Chowk, I am now ready to break ranks. You see, gentle reader, the main accusation against BoJo is that he lied to Parliament. He lied his way to the prime ministership with ludicrous claims about the benefits of Brexit. He lied to his wife. He lied about his affair with an IT American lady when he was mayor of London … it is generally accepted that he economises when it comes to the truth. His trump card in difficult circumstances is dishonesty.

Now that no seat in the House of Lords is to be warmed by my eminent backside, I can blow the gaffe. I mean I have definite evidence of an instance when BoJo didn’t tell the truth and so I’m going to let the large feline beast out of the recyclable bag. Here’s the story with the witness named!

Several years ago, this acquaintance of mine, Charles Sobhraj -- yes, the convicted serial killer -- before he landed up in jail in Kathmandu came to me with a question.

“Fa’ook”, he asked “what is Wed Mercuwy”?

I know a bit of physics and keep up with its scandalous claims, so I told him it was something the Russians say they had invented from antimony which acts as a nuclear trigger. On enquiry, I found out that he had gone to Bahrain to sell Red Mercury which he and associates would obtain from ex-Soviet arms dumps in the ex-Soviet countries, to some Arab gentlemen. He said he had evidence of this meeting and I asked him if these Arabs could have been Iraqis. He said yes.

However reluctant I was to admit that Tony Blair and George W. Bush may have been correct about Sadam Hussein amassing weapons of mass destruction, here was possible evidence that he could have been. I told Charles that he was sitting on one huge, international scoop and if he came over to London from Paris, I would introduce him to some journalists who would use this internationally sensational story.

He came. The only journalist I thought of calling worked for the Spectator, and Charles and I went to his place early next morning and he summoned the editor of the weekly magazine, at the time, one Boris Johnson.

BoJo heard Charles’ claim and said the story was too big for a weekly and he called a journalist from the Daily Telegraph and introduced him to Sobhraj. The whole story, and more, is there in my book Hawk and Hyena! (Advertising again? And didn’t you say ‘first time’? –Ed).

Years later, in 2021, Andrew Antony, a journalist from the Observer and Guardian, interviewed Sobhraj in Kathmandu jail, heard this story and, on his return to London, called me to verify it. I did. He then called BoJo’s now-prime ministerial office and BoJo said he never met the serial killer Charles Sobhraj, but he did recall meeting me.

In baba-school we used to say: “Liar, liar lipstick,/ Born on a broomstick/ Broomstick broke/ Liar got a poke.