A Reverie

by

Leeda Wijewardena

I

Foreword

My sisters and I grew up with achchi. She was first and foremost achchi, then English teacher and at times Doctor (who gave us a sip of Brandy when we were sick!). Before I read A Reverie, I saw her as one person – a loving grandmother. I now see has as a child full of wonder, a mischievous student, a defiant young woman and much more. I am certain that others who know her will also see her with new eyes upon reading A Reverie. Although customs, fashions and modes of transport may change, achchi’s candid stories made me realize that the dreams, relationships, fears and aspirations of each passing generation remain the same.

A Reverie breathes new life in to a family whose memories were shelved away in dust laden albums. I feel a deep connection to the vibrant characters in achchi’s book, of which many are my ancestors. She masterfully threads out personas, places, encounters and dialogues to create a rich tapestry of personal and family history. Such a backdrop really helps ‘third generation’ readers like my sisters and I to understand who we are and where we belong.

Achchi’s prose and style flows gently and easily like a river. In addition to the narrative, the subject and style of the book also reflect changes that took place in her life during the time of writing. This makes A Reverie especially beautiful and compelling. I am extremely thankful to achchi for sharing her life in such an intimate and uninhibited way.

This book is by and about one of the most influential and beloved people in my life. Reading it only confirmed my love for her and showed me new ways of relating to her. It enabled me to see the world through achchi’s eyes and to marvel at the beauty and innocence of that world.

Anyone who reads this book will ‘fall in love’ with my grandmother. My sisters and I are glad that our children will read about the adventures, antics and musings of a wonderful little girl and fall in love with achchi in the years to come...

Niluka , Menaka and Anushka

II III

Acknowledgments

Publishing A Reverie has been a collective labour of love. Chandani and Senaka Samarasinghe lovingly contributed a family tree for this book. It’s part of a laudable initiative to map out the constellation of our ancestry. Damitha Silva undertook the last- minute, herculean task of transforming that family tree from a sprawling hand written diagram to the crisp digitized version featured this book.

Chandra Silva and Rajendra Kumar contributed several priceless photographs to enliven and adorn this book.

Many others contributed their time and effort to type-setting, proof- reading, editing, layout and printing. This book would not be in your hands today if it weren’t for their heartfelt endeavors.

The Author Mrs Leeda Wijewardena In Her Young Days

II III

Acknowledgments

Publishing A Reverie has been a collective labour of love. Chandani and Senaka Samarasinghe lovingly contributed a family tree for this book. It’s part of a laudable initiative to map out the constellation of our ancestry. Damitha Silva undertook the last- minute, herculean task of transforming that family tree from a sprawling hand written diagram to the crisp digitized version featured this book.

Chandra Silva and Rajendra Kumar contributed several priceless photographs to enliven and adorn this book.

Many others contributed their time and effort to type-setting, proof- reading, editing, layout and printing. This book would not be in your hands today if it weren’t for their heartfelt endeavors.

The Author Mrs Leeda Wijewardena In Her Young Days

IV

"Peace I ask of Thee O River

Peace, peace, peace

When I learn to live serenely, cares will cease"

1

1

My heart  feels glad when  I hear that birdsong  ­ starting with a warbling deep down in its throat and rising in to a high crescendo. I hear  it  far away  in the distance. I have heard  it  in  my  childhood  and  later  in  far  off  lands thousands  of miles  away  from my  palm  fringed  island home.  It  is such a  thrilling song  that birdsong.  It's not a soul searching mellifluous   song  like  that of  the peacock or the koha that ushers  in the new year, but it is dear to me because  it brings me memories of  far away and  long ago………     

CHAPTER 1

Early Years

Perched on the road by the hillside was the house in which

we lived. All along the front edge there grew a hedge of

small pink and red roses. There were large pink roses too -

all well maintained and a pleasure to look at. In the garden

on the left side of the house was a pool of sparkling clear

water with large smooth stones around it. Some of the

stones were conspicuously out standing while others were

just the size to sit on. We sat there on some evenings

when mother was not too busy to be with us.

Mother was young and pretty and had her long black hair

tied in a knot. Her home attire was a printed multi-

2 3

2

coloured long skirt and white blouse edged with narrow

white lace but when she went out she wore saree. She was

proud that she was one of the first to wear saree. With the

new awakening the new generation gave up there Colonial

Styles and got back to what was considered a national

costume. Mother’s uncle had been an active member of

the national movement which has inspired not only India

but Sri Lanka too. Daya Hewavitharana and Anagarika

Dharmapala had become popular names in Sri Lanka .It

was Anagarika Dharmapala who has established our claim

to Buddha Gaya which until then was solely considered a

Hindu shrine.

By the river was a red roofed four storied factory and

office. Father was in charge of this division. A European

planter was in over all supervision of all the groups

belonging to George Stuart and Company in Yatiyanthota

and Dehiowita. Sometimes he came on horse back and we

hurried to greet him and to communicate with him in the

little English we knew.

Father had got pneumonia which was considered fatal

those days. He might have died had it not been for his

3

DMO friend Dr Munidasa after whom he named his eldest

son. Father had been warded at the Karawenalla and it

was mother's brother uncle SP who came to her rescue,

others being in far away Matara.

Mother used to talk about her uncle Peter who used to

drop in when on his Railway Trips. He later rose to be the

first local Assistant General Manager of Railways, but I was

too young to remember his visits. Our hero then was

Indian Uncle who came on his rare visits from India.

Below the factory was the river - a shallow wide stream to

be more accurate. We bathed in these waters and waded

across collecting smooth rounded stones. In the evenings

mother sent us for walks to the factory and riverside,

sometimes going in the opposite direction we went for

longer walks with father. I used to lag behind to pick the

way side flowers. To this date I remember the sweet scent

of the greens that grew on the hill side. They had their

over flowing rills and trickles of water singing a strange

quiet tune among the ferns.

My grandmother used to be our most frequent visitor. But

it was Indian uncle, my mothers youngest brother who

2 33

DMO friend Dr Munidasa after whom he named his eldest

son. Father had been warded at the Karawenalla and it

was mother's brother uncle SP who came to her rescue,

others being in far away Matara.

Mother used to talk about her uncle Peter who used to

drop in when on his Railway Trips. He later rose to be the

first local Assistant General Manager of Railways, but I was

too young to remember his visits. Our hero then was

Indian Uncle who came on his rare visits from India.

Below the factory was the river - a shallow wide stream to

be more accurate. We bathed in these waters and waded

across collecting smooth rounded stones. In the evenings

mother sent us for walks to the factory and riverside,

sometimes going in the opposite direction we went for

longer walks with father. I used to lag behind to pick the

way side flowers. To this date I remember the sweet scent

of the greens that grew on the hill side. They had their

over flowing rills and trickles of water singing a strange

quiet tune among the ferns.

My grandmother used to be our most frequent visitor. But

it was Indian uncle, my mothers youngest brother who

4 5

4

was our favourite. His white national garb of a Punjabi kind

was an unfamiliar sight when all men -gentlemen -wore

European Dress. His costume fascinated us. He was our

Indian uncle of the Indian fairy tales."Tell us a story" we

used to pester him, as we pushed each other in our

attempts to hold his hand and walk with him. I think he did

tell us stories as we sat by the water side. We were just

the three of us- MR, Lily and I.JR was a wee baby and it

was the three of us who considered ourselves important. I

believe I must have started schooling in Matara by then.

School Days

St Thomasa's Girls High School Matara was where we all

started our education. I had come to live with my Grand

Mother in Matara. We used to get about in buggy carts, a

popular mode of travel at that time. Jamis was our buggy

driver .He dropped me in school and drove uncle to his

office in the Fort .Uncle was a lawyer. Every affluent

household had its own buggy cart .Another of my uncles

was married to a rich lady from Anuradhapura had a Ford

car. His car was a rare phenomenon, and specially so

because it had the most amusing horn which the young

5

ones loved to toot when ever they got a chance

"poop,poop,poop" it sounded.

I never knew when we had a declared holiday and there

was I coming to school and finding it closed. A few others

who were clueless like me finally went back home. Driven

to my own resources I wondered round the vast school

garden collecting flowers. Near the school gate was a

mauve flowering tree which dropped a pretty carpet of

flowers under its friendly shade. Picking massang, a rare

species today was another of my pre-occupations. No

massang tasted so good as the masang I used to eat in

school. They were like small apples.

On one such day instead of waiting for uncle to pick me up

on his way back home I plucked up courage and followed

the others who were going back to their homes in the fort.

But crossing the Nilvala on the foot bridge was a horrible

ordeal performed with a great deal of fear and trembling.

My heart might have been beating so hard that it was after

I got past the Fort gate and in to uncle’s office area that I

regained my composure.

4 5

5

ones loved to toot when ever they got a chance

"poop,poop,poop" it sounded.

I never knew when we had a declared holiday and there

was I coming to school and finding it closed. A few others

who were clueless like me finally went back home. Driven

to my own resources I wondered round the vast school

garden collecting flowers. Near the school gate was a

mauve flowering tree which dropped a pretty carpet of

flowers under its friendly shade. Picking massang, a rare

species today was another of my pre-occupations. No

massang tasted so good as the masang I used to eat in

school. They were like small apples.

On one such day instead of waiting for uncle to pick me up

on his way back home I plucked up courage and followed

the others who were going back to their homes in the fort.

But crossing the Nilvala on the foot bridge was a horrible

ordeal performed with a great deal of fear and trembling.

My heart might have been beating so hard that it was after

I got past the Fort gate and in to uncle’s office area that I

regained my composure.

6 7

6

Water babies

I could sing and dance well, hence I was always selected

for school concerts .Recently I met a schoolmate of mine

after long years. We had both been fairies and danced in

fairy wings. We wore pointed green caps, coloured

pettaled skirts and even our green blouses and skirts had

their lower ends cut to produce a petal effect. Grace still

looks like a fairy even though she is a grand mother. My

rose fairy friend and several others have gone to rest long

ago. Miss B.D. Alwis and Miss Armstrong did good work

guiding our stage performances.

When I was in the Upper KG I remember drawing a fish.

The teacher in charge who has taken much trouble to

show us a flat pink fish praised my drawing. I too thought

it was good as the original. Cecily who sat next to me

wanted me to draw one for her too. I was quite willing and

we exchanged books. Meanwhile to hood wink the teacher

Cecily went on using her crayons on my fish which turned

out to be a sorry mess. I could have cried, for mine had

been such a beautiful fish.

7

I remember taking part as a water baby in" Tom and the

water babies". Coming to school in the morning, costume

,lunch and all there was a long wait till the concert was

over at night. It was at the Broadway Hall."Little stream

flowing through woodland and valley" which we water

babies sang still rings in my ears. When I was in the UK I

went looking for forget-me-nots growing beside such a

little stream where the willows bend low and did I find

them?...The willows were there in plenty but the forget-

me-nots were scarce.

Tom was played by chubby Lorna Ferdinands who added a

great deal of charm to her role. She is no more she left us

a long time ago. Miss B.D. Alwis played a significant role in

molding us in the middle years of our school lives. Later

we had Miss Esme de Alwis who was a very good teacher.

It was in her time I started taking an interest in all subjects

rising to the first position in class - a position I maintained

until I finally left school. I remember with a degree of pride

how when the Senior Preparatory and Senior form worked

together as one unit due to the shortage of numbers going

up for Cambridge examinations (about 30 in all) or the

scarcity of qualified teachers ( it may have been both) I as

6 77

I remember taking part as a water baby in" Tom and the

water babies". Coming to school in the morning, costume

,lunch and all there was a long wait till the concert was

over at night. It was at the Broadway Hall."Little stream

flowing through woodland and valley" which we water

babies sang still rings in my ears. When I was in the UK I

went looking for forget-me-nots growing beside such a

little stream where the willows bend low and did I find

them?...The willows were there in plenty but the forget-

me-nots were scarce.

Tom was played by chubby Lorna Ferdinands who added a

great deal of charm to her role. She is no more she left us

a long time ago. Miss B.D. Alwis played a significant role in

molding us in the middle years of our school lives. Later

we had Miss Esme de Alwis who was a very good teacher.

It was in her time I started taking an interest in all subjects

rising to the first position in class - a position I maintained

until I finally left school. I remember with a degree of pride

how when the Senior Preparatory and Senior form worked

together as one unit due to the shortage of numbers going

up for Cambridge examinations (about 30 in all) or the

scarcity of qualified teachers ( it may have been both) I as

8 9

8

a student in the Prep Form used to come top in the

combined class.

While still in the Primary classes we took part in several

plays such as "Get up and bar the door" but it was the

musicals with Miss B de Alwis at the piano, that I

remember most. I can still visualize her playing the piano,

swaying from side to side and singing with us.

When we were in Cambridge Junior, the school staged a

grand operetta. It was a big musical involving the whole

upper school. Aruni Gunathilaka was the princess in

"Princess Ju Ju or the Golden amulet." Brenda. Conyta and

I were three prince who hoped to win the hand of the

princess. Jane Selliah was the Emperor. It was a grand

musical extravaganza with Japanese court scenes crowded

with beautiful Kimono clad ladies, songs and dances

galore. "Hail to the land of the rising sun" we all sang with

gusto. Miss Janson taught many dances, two of which

were a fan dance with colourful Japanese fans performed

by the ladies of the court- the umbrella dance was by us,

the princes in disguise. These Kimonos, fans and umbrellas

were freely available in those days. Condemned to death

9

as an imposter who had stolen the princesses' golden

amulet, I sang a sad "Sayonara"- farewell- to my beautiful

princess when I was to be marched off by the Lord High

Executioner. His tone and personality were both awe-

inspiring. "I am the Lord high Executioner" he sang. He

could easily terrify any lesser mortal who would cow down

before him. But as luck would have it, the golden amulet

was found among the princesses clothes, and the emperor

rose up to declare that all's well- that ends well. There was

much singing and dancing in which the princess and the

princes participated and everything ended on a happy

note.

A touch of Shakespeare

Next year the Seniors presented "As you like it" and " The

Tempest." even though we were not old enough to

appreciate Shakespearian drama we cannot forget some

of the melodies that linger " where the bee sucks, there

suck I", "Under the green wood tree", " It was a lover and

his lass" are some of them. Then Gladys and Ariel in

Tempest did a superb performance. And how is it that I

remember Mabel Jayasekara as Portia in "The Merchant of

Venice" or was it in the boys school next door that we saw

8 9

9

as an imposter who had stolen the princesses' golden

amulet, I sang a sad "Sayonara"- farewell- to my beautiful

princess when I was to be marched off by the Lord High

Executioner. His tone and personality were both awe-

inspiring. "I am the Lord high Executioner" he sang. He

could easily terrify any lesser mortal who would cow down

before him. But as luck would have it, the golden amulet

was found among the princesses clothes, and the emperor

rose up to declare that all's well- that ends well. There was

much singing and dancing in which the princess and the

princes participated and everything ended on a happy

note.

A touch of Shakespeare

Next year the Seniors presented "As you like it" and " The

Tempest." even though we were not old enough to

appreciate Shakespearian drama we cannot forget some

of the melodies that linger " where the bee sucks, there

suck I", "Under the green wood tree", " It was a lover and

his lass" are some of them. Then Gladys and Ariel in

Tempest did a superb performance. And how is it that I

remember Mabel Jayasekara as Portia in "The Merchant of

Venice" or was it in the boys school next door that we saw

10 1110

the complete play performed by their seniors and staff.

But those were the days with intelligent pupils and

encouraging staff there was much we could achieve. Our

principal at that time, Sister Mary Kathleen, was a driving

force and a dynamic personality who disciplined us. The

very sound of her jingling keys struck terror in the heart of

the younger students. It was she who directed "The

Midsummer Nights Dream" played by the Seniors of her

time. But our good fortune did not last long. She was

transferred to Bishops College as principal.

When Miss Thambimuttu a new graduate teacher who

joined our staff. She infused a new and different

enthusiasm into us. In Tagore's "Post Office", I was the

uncle and the youngest of the Livera's, Phyllis was my

nephew. Phyllis gave a soulful rendering of a dying child

earning for holidays and home. Acting in such drama was

one thing, but watching such drama was not much fun, I

always thought. No wonder Rabindranath Tagore's "Post

Office" was not one of his popular dramas. We could have

acted something better I thought.

11

The Golden Jubilee of St.Thomas' Girls School

The Golden Jubilee of the school was celebrated with a

great deal of fanfare. Considerable energy was spent on

the Sports Meet and Inter-house activities. They were so

popular that we would do anything for the House and the

House Captain. We were caught in an infectious whirl of

explosive enthusiasm. At the Grand- finale which was the

Prize Giving the Governor of Ceylon presided. However

out-door activities were the highlights for us. We had

several dances- one to the music of the Blue Danube.

Another, a Kalagedi dance - rather a dignified performance

unlike the lively dance of today. However the greatest

attraction was The May Pole Dance in which my normally

quiet sister Lilly was a gay participant. With the bubbling

energy of Youth children would dance endlessly marveling

and raveling the colourful mystery of the May Pole. At

night the school premises between Broadway hall and

Main Street were a real fairyland with multi-coloured

lanterns. Everything worked out beautifully and we who

were young students carry with us haunting memories of

our Golden Jubilee Celebrations. Soon we were back in

school and engrossed in our school work.

10 11

11

The Golden Jubilee of St.Thomas' Girls School

The Golden Jubilee of the school was celebrated with a

great deal of fanfare. Considerable energy was spent on

the Sports Meet and Inter-house activities. They were so

popular that we would do anything for the House and the

House Captain. We were caught in an infectious whirl of

explosive enthusiasm. At the Grand- finale which was the

Prize Giving the Governor of Ceylon presided. However

out-door activities were the highlights for us. We had

several dances- one to the music of the Blue Danube.

Another, a Kalagedi dance - rather a dignified performance

unlike the lively dance of today. However the greatest

attraction was The May Pole Dance in which my normally

quiet sister Lilly was a gay participant. With the bubbling

energy of Youth children would dance endlessly marveling

and raveling the colourful mystery of the May Pole. At

night the school premises between Broadway hall and

Main Street were a real fairyland with multi-coloured

lanterns. Everything worked out beautifully and we who

were young students carry with us haunting memories of

our Golden Jubilee Celebrations. Soon we were back in

school and engrossed in our school work.

12 13

12

Being Girl Guides was another popular activity under the

tutelage of Miss Armstrong our Guide Captain and

subsequently our Guide Captain and subsequently our

District Commissioner. Scouting and Girl Guiding were

very popular in Boys and Girls schools (there was no

cricket then),

We were proud of belonging to various groups such as

Golden Orioles, Wood Peckers and King Fishers -proud of

our array of efficiency badges and emblems. Many were

the camp fires we had and many were the rounds and

songs we sang deep in to the night. Attending the All

Island Rally at Girl Guide Headquarters in Colombo and at

the Viharamahadevi Park was a unique experience. The

Boy Scouts had also camped there in their tents and open

air groups. It was a memorable experience sharing

combined knowledge. It was the first such rally held in

Ceylon.

13

Sinhala Drama

Prior to the times I write about, when we were penalised

for talking in Sinhalese within the school premises it is no

wonder we did not blossom out in the direction of Sinhala

drama. Those who had their primary education in

vernacular schools, we couldn't equal. However, the

Seniors staged "Yasalalaka Tissa" where the King was

ousted by the gatekeeper whom he resembled. My aunt

Derbie- a senior student played a prominent part in that

play. But one short skit I will never forget. In those remote

times we had a humorous play which caused a minor

uproar. It was about a vedamahathaya who doled out

impossible remedies to his patients. I happened to be the

Veda. However, the words spoken seemed to have upset

the finer sentiments of the English speaking elite audience.

I don’t think anyone blamed me but the new teacher who

haled from Moratuwa and was in charge of the item came

in for considerable blame. The Principal Sister Ada Mary

who understood no Sinhala was clueless and caught

unawares in the hullabaloo.

Towering above all these mishaps, guarding and guiding

the destiny of the close-knit family (I don't think we were

12 1313

Sinhala Drama

Prior to the times I write about, when we were penalised

for talking in Sinhalese within the school premises it is no

wonder we did not blossom out in the direction of Sinhala

drama. Those who had their primary education in

vernacular schools, we couldn't equal. However, the

Seniors staged "Yasalalaka Tissa" where the King was

ousted by the gatekeeper whom he resembled. My aunt

Derbie- a senior student played a prominent part in that

play. But one short skit I will never forget. In those remote

times we had a humorous play which caused a minor

uproar. It was about a vedamahathaya who doled out

impossible remedies to his patients. I happened to be the

Veda. However, the words spoken seemed to have upset

the finer sentiments of the English speaking elite audience.

I don’t think anyone blamed me but the new teacher who

haled from Moratuwa and was in charge of the item came

in for considerable blame. The Principal Sister Ada Mary

who understood no Sinhala was clueless and caught

unawares in the hullabaloo.

Towering above all these mishaps, guarding and guiding

the destiny of the close-knit family (I don't think we were

14 15

14

more than 600 on the role), was Sister Ada Mary our

English Principal-infallible and indefatigable and ever-

lasting ( so seemed to me) She was the veritable Rock of

Ages, I thought. I remember how she took our singing

classes. We were singing about Queen Dido and Aeneas

stately and tall. To Sister, "Aeneas" was the same as

anayass and ( to the amusement of singing students) or

"Anyarse" (the way Sister pronounced that honorable

name Sister who saw nothing amiss went on with her

surplice sleeves flying in wild animation. She was as good a

conductor of music as any in the present day.

In the hostel

We were a fairly big group among the sixty five boarders.

I don’t think we resented the hostel routine. We were well

disciplined waking up with the bell which informed us

about various changes in the schedule. We soon got used

to Sister Ada Mary, Huldah, Evelyn and Joan Margret

befriended us at various times of our school life. They

were not only our superiors but kind friends. In later years

I visited sister Joan Margret at East Corinstead in England.

She was very old, confined to her bed but mentally alert.

She remembered only the Christian boarders of her time.

15

No wonder she wasn't one of our teachers. Miss Kemps

was our matron and was a kind and gentle lady. She made

our hostel a home for us. There were little ones like my

sister Nellie who became hungry long before the lunch

bell. She used to stamp her feet and cry and make such a

fuss that the kinds nuns rushed to pacify her with a biscuit

or two.

After lunch which was most popular on the days when the

menu consisted of meat, dhal and pol sambol we made a

beeline to the tuck shop. There was not much of a choice

of material there, but the coconut rock Sister made and

sold at 10 cents a piece was delicious. I can still see the

rosy pink colour and feel the taste of that coconut rock

that never tasted better anywhere else in all these years. It

was superb!

On Saturdays and Sundays after lunch we had a period to

rest. We all had to be in bed. Sister distributed books for

reading and also gave us a few coloured sweets which

were brought in a big tin. She carried to each boarder’s

bed-side, no conversation was allowed and we had to be

in bed till the next bell announced tea time. After tea on

14 15

15

No wonder she wasn't one of our teachers. Miss Kemps

was our matron and was a kind and gentle lady. She made

our hostel a home for us. There were little ones like my

sister Nellie who became hungry long before the lunch

bell. She used to stamp her feet and cry and make such a

fuss that the kinds nuns rushed to pacify her with a biscuit

or two.

After lunch which was most popular on the days when the

menu consisted of meat, dhal and pol sambol we made a

beeline to the tuck shop. There was not much of a choice

of material there, but the coconut rock Sister made and

sold at 10 cents a piece was delicious. I can still see the

rosy pink colour and feel the taste of that coconut rock

that never tasted better anywhere else in all these years. It

was superb!

On Saturdays and Sundays after lunch we had a period to

rest. We all had to be in bed. Sister distributed books for

reading and also gave us a few coloured sweets which

were brought in a big tin. She carried to each boarder’s

bed-side, no conversation was allowed and we had to be

in bed till the next bell announced tea time. After tea on

16 17

16

Saturdays we got into our neat white uniforms and school

ties and got ready for a walk to the beach near Browns

Hill. This was a outing we looked forward to. On Sundays

the Christians went to church with the nuns and after Even

Song, the Parish priest Rev. Clive Perera came to tea with

the nuns. He came in his open two seater sports car. He

was a jovial priest. Often he brought visitors to see the

nuns and on one such visit sister brought them round to

our study where the Seniors were deeply engrossed in

their home-work. To my utter dismay Sister singled me out

as a good student and the visitors who took some special

interest on hearing about a good student took a keener

interest in me and there was I with a copy of "Wuthering

Heights" carefully concealed under the History Text I had

placed on top. Father Clive said " Ho Ho," with a merry

twinkle in his eye, and the kindly visitors only smiled, but I

didn't know where to hide my head. To my great relief

neither Sister Ada Mary nor the Matron who supervised

our studies pulled me up and the incident was soon

forgotten.

17

Sunday Evenings

On some Sundays we-Christians and non-Christians sat in

the study and sang hymns. Hymn books were distributed

and to us, singing a hymn was like singing a song. However

on some Sundays when the Christians went to church with

the nuns we who were left behind threw sticks and stones

and even our shoes at the massang tree which grew in

front of the hostel. How we relished the ripe fruit. I don't

think we cast envious eyes at the Sappatilla tree which

grew behind the hostel and was within easy reach. There

wasn't a ghost of a chance of getting any because Sister

Ada Mary's butler Hendrick and his kichen staff were

always around and inform" Sitter" - that's what he called

her -about any miscreant who touched the hollowed fruit

which was reserved for the nuns and the teachers.

But one day Mabels' shoe was found in the thorny

massang tree.Mabel was a popular senior boarder. There

was no doubt about the ownership' because it was made

of crocodile skin. But could Mable do such a thing would

have puzzled the nuns for quite some time before Mabel

Jayasekera was finally reprimanded.

16 17

17

Sunday Evenings

On some Sundays we-Christians and non-Christians sat in

the study and sang hymns. Hymn books were distributed

and to us, singing a hymn was like singing a song. However

on some Sundays when the Christians went to church with

the nuns we who were left behind threw sticks and stones

and even our shoes at the massang tree which grew in

front of the hostel. How we relished the ripe fruit. I don't

think we cast envious eyes at the Sappatilla tree which

grew behind the hostel and was within easy reach. There

wasn't a ghost of a chance of getting any because Sister

Ada Mary's butler Hendrick and his kichen staff were

always around and inform" Sitter" - that's what he called

her -about any miscreant who touched the hollowed fruit

which was reserved for the nuns and the teachers.

But one day Mabels' shoe was found in the thorny

massang tree.Mabel was a popular senior boarder. There

was no doubt about the ownership' because it was made

of crocodile skin. But could Mable do such a thing would

have puzzled the nuns for quite some time before Mabel

Jayasekera was finally reprimanded.

18 19

18

Sometimes we managed to do a hat collection for two

loaves of bread and a tin of salmon carefully hidden away

until midnight. It was a midnight feast we enjoyed

immensely in the semi-darkness of the dim lit Senior

dormitory.

The little boarders were an endearing lot. On the day that

the new church was consecrated there was a grand

function and all the boarders too were taken to the

function. I, a senior by then was not feeling sorry I was left

behind because I had fever. I was too sick to think of the

function I had missed. I was awakened late in the evening

by little hands that pulled out patties and sandwiches and

biscuits and cakes out of their pockets. They placed them

beside me, sorry that I could not enjoy the goodies they

had, had. What dear little people to be so considerate but

I couldn't eat a thing they had brought .They were bitter in

my mouth.

A few months before I sat for my Cambridge Senior

Examination I got an attack of mumps. Confined to the sick

room I was given soups and puddings which I could

19

swallow easily. I was given books to read and I read almost

one book a day. I had right Royal treatment. Soon after I

started my baths more than half the dorm caught the

infection, and the tragedy or comedy was that they had no

preferential treatment. Only conjee and corriander!

Soon after that, not even two months later we got

measles. The hostel had to be closed and the boarders

sent home. Home was too far away for us, so we had to go

to grandmother. On our way there Silva who drove our

buggy made an error of judgment ending in all six of us

going down in to the drain measles and all. At the start the

buggy has been covered all round in the way the Muslim

women do when on a buggy ride perhaps visiting friends

and family-but after the fall there we were on the Old

Road exposed to the sun and the wind and prying eyes

waiting until Silva got the buggy started and the poor bull

made comfortable. I had the feeling of sand in my eyes

and the others too were having various degrees of measles

infection, but thank our lucky stars we were back in the

hostel after a little more than a fortnight of grand

mother’s hospitality.

18 19

19

swallow easily. I was given books to read and I read almost

one book a day. I had right Royal treatment. Soon after I

started my baths more than half the dorm caught the

infection, and the tragedy or comedy was that they had no

preferential treatment. Only conjee and corriander!

Soon after that, not even two months later we got

measles. The hostel had to be closed and the boarders

sent home. Home was too far away for us, so we had to go

to grandmother. On our way there Silva who drove our

buggy made an error of judgment ending in all six of us

going down in to the drain measles and all. At the start the

buggy has been covered all round in the way the Muslim

women do when on a buggy ride perhaps visiting friends

and family-but after the fall there we were on the Old

Road exposed to the sun and the wind and prying eyes

waiting until Silva got the buggy started and the poor bull

made comfortable. I had the feeling of sand in my eyes

and the others too were having various degrees of measles

infection, but thank our lucky stars we were back in the

hostel after a little more than a fortnight of grand

mother’s hospitality.

20 21

20

More Cousins

By that time my uncle's sons Indra and Chandra joined St

Thomas'. They were day scholars. The lower KG in which

Chandra studied was next to the Music Room. While we

Senior Girls were singing with Sister Ada Mary at the

piano, in comes a chubby intruder, Cousin Chandra also

singing the scales "Cucku cucku cu coo oh ah" taking his

place by my side. Sister who had a soft corner for the little

one, never so much as scolded him, but gently lifting him

up left him where he belonged in the KG next door.

Brother MR - Munidasa who was at St Thomas' until he

passed Std 11 lead everybody a dance. When the senior

girls were playing cricket, he would rush to the field and

boldly run away with the wickets. With the senior girls

screaming and running behind him he would run the

length and breadth of the vast school garden until he

decided for himself that he had had enough of the

enterprise and surrendered the wickets.

On a Saturday where we had gone to the beach Jeswyn

and Jinadasa had been following Sister Ada Marys wooly

terrier Jill who had started to dig the sand looking for

21

turtle eggs buried there. Going down on all fours to help in

the digging Jeswyn had got a cactus thorn into his knee.

There was much anxiety and even a few tears too when

some all knowing one said Jeswyn would die when the

thorn reached his heart. When we got back to the hostel,

the sister in charge of the sickroom dressed the wound

and Jeswyn was none the worse for the experience.

Bazaars and carnivals

No one ever stayed away from a carnival. The school had

its own carnival, though not in my time. The two carnivals

held in Colombo on two separate occassions -London

Calling at the Vihara Maha Devi park and "Harbour Lights"

at the Colombo harbour were magnificent. I was so

enthralled by everything I saw, the glitter of the coloured

electric lights simply hypnotised us - the teenagers and the

little ones too. Father took us to both carnivals. The song "I

saw the harbour lights" came about the same time and no

wonder Harbour Lights continued to haunt us years later.

20 21

21

turtle eggs buried there. Going down on all fours to help in

the digging Jeswyn had got a cactus thorn into his knee.

There was much anxiety and even a few tears too when

some all knowing one said Jeswyn would die when the

thorn reached his heart. When we got back to the hostel,

the sister in charge of the sickroom dressed the wound

and Jeswyn was none the worse for the experience.

Bazaars and carnivals

No one ever stayed away from a carnival. The school had

its own carnival, though not in my time. The two carnivals

held in Colombo on two separate occassions -London

Calling at the Vihara Maha Devi park and "Harbour Lights"

at the Colombo harbour were magnificent. I was so

enthralled by everything I saw, the glitter of the coloured

electric lights simply hypnotised us - the teenagers and the

little ones too. Father took us to both carnivals. The song "I

saw the harbour lights" came about the same time and no

wonder Harbour Lights continued to haunt us years later.

22 2322

Borders - sisters and others

When I left St. Thomas', it was 5 year old Chandra who

took my place. She was supposed to have brought much

luck to the family. Mother used to send Arnis Appu with a

parcel for us all. On such an occasion she said we had

another little sister - that was Arundathie.

Meanwhile, I should not forget to remember others who

made my school life worthwhile. We had at the hostel -

Marguerite, Myrtle Phoebe and Philine Peiris. Placida

Wijesinha, Gwen Karunaratne, Aruni and Nancy Pearl

Wijetunge, not forgetting a host of others who enlivened

life in our hostel. Marguerite de Mel used to get lots of

chocolates - slabs of Nestle and Cadbury which we valued

highly because of the tokens in each pack. We collected

these in albums - pictures of English Royalty, places of

interest in England, English flowers and many more.

Phoebe and Philine, Margarette's cousines, joined Bishop's

College. Margarette who went with them came back and

she and Myrtle remained at St. Thomas' throughout.

23

Disappointment

Nanda, who settled down in London was another of my

classmates. I got the Senior Prize for English Language at

the last prize giving of my school career but the leather-

bound gold lettered "complete works of Shakespeare" -

the Eileen De Mel Prize for English Literature went to

Nanda Muthucumarana. I suppose Nanda was senior to

me and had joined us having had her earlier education

elsewhere and deserved it, but how I wish I had got it. Of

what use was English Language without literature! This

was one of the few disappointments in my school career,

which was otherwise a happy one.

Lucky escape

Regina and Mercy Gnanamuttu, whom I considered my

best friend, the Livera sisters and so many other bright

faces I seem to see as I look down the years. Unforgettable

is Leela Nanayakkara who was thrown under the piano

stool when a huge tree crashed on the school roof in a

huge storm. She was sitting on the piano stool, lucky to

have been saved with only a spinal injury, whereas the rest

of the furniture, with the exception of the piano was

reduced to smithereens. Although a senior student, she

22 23

23

Disappointment

Nanda, who settled down in London was another of my

classmates. I got the Senior Prize for English Language at

the last prize giving of my school career but the leather-

bound gold lettered "complete works of Shakespeare" -

the Eileen De Mel Prize for English Literature went to

Nanda Muthucumarana. I suppose Nanda was senior to

me and had joined us having had her earlier education

elsewhere and deserved it, but how I wish I had got it. Of

what use was English Language without literature! This

was one of the few disappointments in my school career,

which was otherwise a happy one.

Lucky escape

Regina and Mercy Gnanamuttu, whom I considered my

best friend, the Livera sisters and so many other bright

faces I seem to see as I look down the years. Unforgettable

is Leela Nanayakkara who was thrown under the piano

stool when a huge tree crashed on the school roof in a

huge storm. She was sitting on the piano stool, lucky to

have been saved with only a spinal injury, whereas the rest

of the furniture, with the exception of the piano was

reduced to smithereens. Although a senior student, she

24 25

24

too had forgotten that she needn't have come to school

that day - it was a holiday.

When I look down the years I remember with gladness, the

time we spent at St. Thomas' Matara. In the early days we

sang the school song to the tune of 'Dyou Ken John Peel'.

Later, when a new tune was introduced, we sang joyfully

"In our work and our play,

through the live long day,

we'll be loyal and true

and keep in view

our school's good name...".

Those were happy days and happy years. We loved our

school and were really loyal and true to it.

24 25

Happy timesSpent with grandmother

in her home atWalgama Matara

26 27

My Beloved Grand Mother Johana PujithaGunawardena nee Panditha Gunawardena

25

CHAPTER 2

Matara Grandmother

My grandmother lived in her ancestral home in Galle road,

Walgama, Matara. Before my sisters and brothers invaded

the field, I was the first member of my family to live with

my grandmother. I accompanied her wherever she went.

She used to visit her relatives in Madihe. We did not go

there by buggy cart but walked across the coconut lands,

most which were ours or belonged to our relatives. We

jumped over stiles and went through Hettige watta to

Bajjang watta and Walauw watta chatting with people

whom we met along the way to the seaside, where Punchi

mahaththaya, a popular Ayurvedic physician lived.

Grandmother was a fast walker and I could hardly keep

pace with her, but more so because I got left behind as I

lingered to pick berries and flowers and meekaranchi

(both fruits and flowers were edible). But we made it

somehow, I running half the way. The Ayurvedic physician

we visited was a relative. He was an expert orthopedic

surgeon. He had a special ward for those who came from

far off places to seek his aid. He had a brother who took

26 27

25

CHAPTER 2

Matara Grandmother

My grandmother lived in her ancestral home in Galle road,

Walgama, Matara. Before my sisters and brothers invaded

the field, I was the first member of my family to live with

my grandmother. I accompanied her wherever she went.

She used to visit her relatives in Madihe. We did not go

there by buggy cart but walked across the coconut lands,

most which were ours or belonged to our relatives. We

jumped over stiles and went through Hettige watta to

Bajjang watta and Walauw watta chatting with people

whom we met along the way to the seaside, where Punchi

mahaththaya, a popular Ayurvedic physician lived.

Grandmother was a fast walker and I could hardly keep

pace with her, but more so because I got left behind as I

lingered to pick berries and flowers and meekaranchi

(both fruits and flowers were edible). But we made it

somehow, I running half the way. The Ayurvedic physician

we visited was a relative. He was an expert orthopedic

surgeon. He had a special ward for those who came from

far off places to seek his aid. He had a brother who took

28 29

26

after him. Although he ended up as a lecturer at the

Ayurvedic hospital, Borella, nevertheless did not have the

same healing touch.

Most of the houses we visited were close to the sea; but I

had no fascination for the sea. I still prefer the peace and

serenity of inland waters to the awful grandeur of the sea.

In Madihe, grandmother visited her favourite cousin -

Reverand Pannasiha's mother. They both had a lot to talk

about while I sat on an interesting Dumpty like structure

keeping myself turning round and round - clock-wise and

anti clock-wise. I have a faint recollection of the

Mahanayaka. He was a tall school boy always busy with his

books. He was a student at St. Thomas' Boys' School.

Open Air Dramas

Not far from my grandmother's home lived grandfather's

cousin, old Gurunnanse Mutta. He had been a popular

Nadagam Gurunnanse in his heyday. The old ralahami had,

with the collaboration of friends and relations in the

locality produced open air dramas. He was very popular.

27

Sometimes my grandmother visited sisters in Polhena - an

adjoining village. The youngest Welvina was married to my

grandfather's uncle and was well to do - not only having

many coconut lands, but also many sons in government

service. We used to go there by buggy cart. I don't know

why we didn't walk there as we did to Madihe. Two of

grandmother's sisters were married to grandfather's

uncles and were Jayawardenas like us. The youngest of the

grand aunt's daughters was Derby, a senior student at St.

Thomas' and we called her Derby as we did in school, but

the day she married her cousin, uncle Diwin (who was also

my mother's cousin), an advocate, I had to call her aunty

Derby. The other Mrs. Velmina Jayawardena was said to

have been the beauty of the family but I scarcely

remember her, except for the fact that she was a very fair

old lady. There was a very old custom prevelant among the

families those days. On Poya day, my grandmother

observed Sil and her youngest sister, Welvina sent her

noon dane - a large plate of rice and curry fit for a

princess. It was served in grand style and the magic was -

there was enough and more for all four of us who were in

grandmother's house. Sometimes this was delivered by a

servant, but often my grand aunt who accompanied the

28 29

27

Sometimes my grandmother visited sisters in Polhena - an

adjoining village. The youngest Welvina was married to my

grandfather's uncle and was well to do - not only having

many coconut lands, but also many sons in government

service. We used to go there by buggy cart. I don't know

why we didn't walk there as we did to Madihe. Two of

grandmother's sisters were married to grandfather's

uncles and were Jayawardenas like us. The youngest of the

grand aunt's daughters was Derby, a senior student at St.

Thomas' and we called her Derby as we did in school, but

the day she married her cousin, uncle Diwin (who was also

my mother's cousin), an advocate, I had to call her aunty

Derby. The other Mrs. Velmina Jayawardena was said to

have been the beauty of the family but I scarcely

remember her, except for the fact that she was a very fair

old lady. There was a very old custom prevelant among the

families those days. On Poya day, my grandmother

observed Sil and her youngest sister, Welvina sent her

noon dane - a large plate of rice and curry fit for a

princess. It was served in grand style and the magic was -

there was enough and more for all four of us who were in

grandmother's house. Sometimes this was delivered by a

servant, but often my grand aunt who accompanied the

30 31

28

servant made respectful abeyance to my grandmother

after serving the meal.

Tall and Good Looking

My grandmother was a dignified lady with a wonderful

store of wisdom. Her mother had been a Miss Fonseka

from Bambalapitiya. They owned most of the properties

bordering Galle road from Kollupitiya to St Peters' College

area and Wellawatta canal. When her mother died my

great grandfather Pelene Panditha Gunawardena the

renowned scholar had married a Miss Serasinha from

Pelena and had several children one of whom was the Rev.

Pelene Vajiranana Thero later of Vajiraramaya,

Bambalapitiya. Grandmother who lived with her father

and step mother in Pelena had gone to a school -Bouna

Vista Galle- one of the earliest missionary schools for girls.

After that she had been sent to a finishing school of a kind.

She had been taught cooking, sewing and lace making as

befitted young ladies of her era. Perhaps her education

was an all rounded one. But proof I have is that she could

sign her name in English. I still treasure her signature in my

autograph album.

29

I used to visit the ancestral Pelena home with my

grandmother. She told me how one day a young English

speaking gentleman had come to Pelena to another house

to see his prospective bride. After having seen the girl, the

young mans parents had decided to pay their respects to

Pundit-Tudawe Pandita Gunawardena before returing

home. Then quite by chance they saw the Pundits elder

daughter Dona Johanna, the young man decided that she

and she alone must be his bride.

After the visitors left Johanna had been summoned and

asked to decide whether she would marry a rich merchant

or an educated gentleman and it was no wonder she made

the right decision. That’s how Dona Johanna Panditha

Gunawardena married Jacovis (Jacob?) Poojitha

Gunawarena. He had become a Christian to gain an English

education and employment but once again he reverted to

his Buddhist faith to marry the Pundits daughter. He had

been for sometime on the staff of Royal Academy which

had preceded Royal College of today. Later he had left for

Kacheri service. His salary had been around fifty Rupees- a

princely sum in those days. After marriage the new couple

settled down in Walgama Matara and had four sons and

30 3129

I used to visit the ancestral Pelena home with my

grandmother. She told me how one day a young English

speaking gentleman had come to Pelena to another house

to see his prospective bride. After having seen the girl, the

young mans parents had decided to pay their respects to

Pundit-Tudawe Pandita Gunawardena before returing

home. Then quite by chance they saw the Pundits elder

daughter Dona Johanna, the young man decided that she

and she alone must be his bride.

After the visitors left Johanna had been summoned and

asked to decide whether she would marry a rich merchant

or an educated gentleman and it was no wonder she made

the right decision. That’s how Dona Johanna Panditha

Gunawardena married Jacovis (Jacob?) Poojitha

Gunawarena. He had become a Christian to gain an English

education and employment but once again he reverted to

his Buddhist faith to marry the Pundits daughter. He had

been for sometime on the staff of Royal Academy which

had preceded Royal College of today. Later he had left for

Kacheri service. His salary had been around fifty Rupees- a

princely sum in those days. After marriage the new couple

settled down in Walgama Matara and had four sons and

32 3330

three daughters. Of the eldest Arthur AP, Sugathapala SP,

Upatissa UP and Junian Piyatissa JP, who grew up to be

handsome men. Arthur was a planter, SP an executive at

Bosanquet and Skrine, UP a lawyer and JP a teacher at

Mahinda College Galle. Mahinda College had an

Englishman- Mr. Pearce, as Principal. When Mr. Pearce left

Mahinda, and went to India JP also followed in his

footsteps making India his foster mother. He visited his

mother and family on very rare occassions, and once we

all gathered at Seeta Vasa, Walgame to welcome Aunty

Sushila his Indian bride from Benares. Later they came to

live in Ceylon at grandmother’s request. Although Uncle JP

came back home his heart was always on the other side of

Palk Strait.

The loss of Uncle UP, an up and coming lawyer was a

crushing blow on my grandmother. Uncle had died of

appendicitis, unbelievable in these days. Uncle had been

married to a gentle lady Rosalin Dias Abeygoonewardena,

and had three little sons. By this time not only Loku

Mamma but uncle SP had lost his beloved Jessie. She had

died a short while after Jeswyn was born. Uncle had been

heart broken. I cannot remember their wedding but

31

judging by their wedding photograph they must have been

a remarkably good looking couple.

The daughters my grandmother had were Flora Jane,

Sujatha and Leela, all beauties in their days. My stately

grandmother spoke such words of wisdom. "Dress well"

she said meaning that " the apparel oft proclaims the

man." "Be frugal in your expenditure, don't spend

extravagantly on food and drinks; no one knows what goes

inside of you". "look after your money-though you may be

willing to part with yours-you cannot go asking people if

you happen to be in need." She used to say "neither a

lender nor a borrower be."

I had heard other ladies speak with disdain, sheer

arrogance. My eldest aunt was on the haughty side-but

not so my grandmother, and my gentle aunt Sujatha and

my good mother. They were gentle in demeanor as well as

speech.

32 3331

judging by their wedding photograph they must have been

a remarkably good looking couple.

The daughters my grandmother had were Flora Jane,

Sujatha and Leela, all beauties in their days. My stately

grandmother spoke such words of wisdom. "Dress well"

she said meaning that " the apparel oft proclaims the

man." "Be frugal in your expenditure, don't spend

extravagantly on food and drinks; no one knows what goes

inside of you". "look after your money-though you may be

willing to part with yours-you cannot go asking people if

you happen to be in need." She used to say "neither a

lender nor a borrower be."

I had heard other ladies speak with disdain, sheer

arrogance. My eldest aunt was on the haughty side-but

not so my grandmother, and my gentle aunt Sujatha and

my good mother. They were gentle in demeanor as well as

speech.

34 35

32

The Abrahams

My mother's eldest sister had married a son of a rich

leather merchant. Uncle was Don Carolis Abraham. They

had started life at Bambalapitiya where her eldest sons

were schooling at Royal College and their daughters at

Holy Family Convent. Windowed quite early in life, she left

her home in Colombo and settled down on Mirishena

Estate Kalutara. Her estate of rubber and coconut

provided her with a comfortable income. Her eldest son

Victor joined the CGR. Another son Hector who was at the

Medical College died of Typhoid. It was tragic and

unexpected blow. Her younger sons never came upto that

level. Geeta, Ena and Nerissa were all good looking girls.

Specially Nerissa "who looked liked an ancient Sinhala

princess" so said my friends who saw her when she came

to see me at the Training College. They were after a

wedding.

My mother was the youngest of grandmother's daughters

Jane, Sujatha and Leela. My father was a nephew of the

Jayawardena who my grandmother's sister was married

to. He had studied at St Thomas' Boys school in Matara. It

was his proud boast that he had walked five miles from his

33

brothers home in Dondra in order to get to school. Later

we heard that Dondra was only three miles away. He

wanted to make a favourable impression on his sons, now

boarders. They were studying in relative comfort at St.

John's College Panadura in "Lansi school". His father was

from Dickwella where assets were reckoned not only by

"goda bima" coconut lands but also by mada bima paddy

lands and by herds of buffalo which made Rahuna famous

for its curd. My father was the youngest of a family of

eleven brothers and three sisters. Having got through an

examination from which would have made him eligible for

coveted Government service, he had however followed

the advice of his brother in law to be and joined the

plantation sector which had "so many fringe benefits", so

they said.

34 3533

brothers home in Dondra in order to get to school. Later

we heard that Dondra was only three miles away. He

wanted to make a favourable impression on his sons, now

boarders. They were studying in relative comfort at St.

John's College Panadura in "Lansi school". His father was

from Dickwella where assets were reckoned not only by

"goda bima" coconut lands but also by mada bima paddy

lands and by herds of buffalo which made Rahuna famous

for its curd. My father was the youngest of a family of

eleven brothers and three sisters. Having got through an

examination from which would have made him eligible for

coveted Government service, he had however followed

the advice of his brother in law to be and joined the

plantation sector which had "so many fringe benefits", so

they said.

36 37

34

Mirishena Estate Kalutara North

"Peace I ask of Thee O river

Peace peace peace

When I learn to live serenely cares will cease"

I was by the Kalu Ganga. Their bungalow was on a hill

which sloped gradually to the river. I loved that river and

longed to bath in it. My cousins were not interested. A film

of soft dust settled on your skin after a river bath was their

excuse. Long afterwards I heard a tragedy had befallen

them .A cousin of theirs from Bambalapitiya who has been

recuperating after a nervous breakdown had got drowned

after playing in the shallow waters near the river bank. He

had been playing" wolf wolf" with passing fishing boats

shouting to them and calling them to his rescue but

sending them back once they came. One day when he had

actually got in to trouble and shouted for help they did not

take him seriously and he had got drowned.

By the house on the hill was a huge banyan tree -Nuge -

the botanical name Ficus Bengalinsis a landmark you could

identify from the Bo Tree in Kalutara South. They said that

35

on some nights strange lights - devata eli -rose from the

Nuge tree and flitted to the Bo-tree on the lower reaches

of the river. I never had the good fortune to witness this

phenomenon, but I believed in it's existence.

Like all other families the Mirishene residents had a big

buggy cart (cars were scarce or even non-existent during

this period). They had a big white bull but this bull would

never allow his buggy driver to tie him to the yolk with out

the lady of the house or one of the young ladies patting

him on his head and tying the first knot.

I loved to walk from the bungalow area to the riverside. In

a small area of flat land bordering the river, village women

made cadjans out of coconut fronds .On the hilly slopes

they tapped rubber which they carried in pails to the

smoke-room where the latex was converted to sheet

rubber. There were veralu and mango trees on the estate.

Nerissa and I would eat so many mangoes in one sitting

that to this date I can't imagine how we ate so many. Only

the seeds collected in a heap would bear testimony to the

extent of damage done but nobody bothered because

mangoes were plentiful.

36 37

35

on some nights strange lights - devata eli -rose from the

Nuge tree and flitted to the Bo-tree on the lower reaches

of the river. I never had the good fortune to witness this

phenomenon, but I believed in it's existence.

Like all other families the Mirishene residents had a big

buggy cart (cars were scarce or even non-existent during

this period). They had a big white bull but this bull would

never allow his buggy driver to tie him to the yolk with out

the lady of the house or one of the young ladies patting

him on his head and tying the first knot.

I loved to walk from the bungalow area to the riverside. In

a small area of flat land bordering the river, village women

made cadjans out of coconut fronds .On the hilly slopes

they tapped rubber which they carried in pails to the

smoke-room where the latex was converted to sheet

rubber. There were veralu and mango trees on the estate.

Nerissa and I would eat so many mangoes in one sitting

that to this date I can't imagine how we ate so many. Only

the seeds collected in a heap would bear testimony to the

extent of damage done but nobody bothered because

mangoes were plentiful.

38 39

36

The vegetable plots on the soil enriched by receding

waters of the river in flood were luxuriant. The Watakolu

(fence buoys) which have more fruits than leaves is still a

favourite of mine. I must admit that no Watakolu tasted as

good as those cooked in the Mirishena kitchen.

Swing and Rabana playing

As children, Nerissa, Wopedeva and I used to play on the

swing during the new year season. Wopedeva who studied

as Holy Cross college always beat me at Carrom and cards.

Although I had been rated as very intelligent according to

my performance at school, I thought Wopedeva was heaps

better than I. During the New Year season the women

labourers from the estate warmed up the household

rabana and played familiar tunes (Tum tumba gata

thunata palan, thiththa kekiri thunata palan).

Often the ladies of the household and even the more

fashionable Don Carolis cousins - visitors from Colombo -

joined them. It was a jolly sight to see aunty Rose and her

cousins with bejeweled rings on their plump fingers

playing the rabana. This they did well, even thought they

37

were the piano playing crowd. Their coconut property was

at Heediya Watta where we spent the day sometimes,

travelling there leisurely by buggy cart. But trouble

seemed to be brewing over there. Boundary problems had

come in to a climax with the watcher shooting a stubborn

villager who refused to allow the construction of a fence.

To save her son, his mother had jumped in front of him.

Both the mother and son had died on the same spot.

Lokku Mamma, who had been an eye witness to this

tragedy, was implicated in this case, which cost the

Abrahams a tidy sum. She also had to look after the

watcher's family until he came out of prison.

Matara

Way back in Matara, uncle Arthur's sons, Amaradasa and

Sugatadasa lived with my grandmotrher. In the adjoining

village, Pamburana, was my aunt Sujatha and her family.

This elder sister of my mother's had married in to a fairly

rich family, where the only son, a reckless type had run

through his resources leaving my aunt and children in

relative discomfort. Being educated, the children soon

picked up quickly, entering universities here and abroad

38 39

37

were the piano playing crowd. Their coconut property was

at Heediya Watta where we spent the day sometimes,

travelling there leisurely by buggy cart. But trouble

seemed to be brewing over there. Boundary problems had

come in to a climax with the watcher shooting a stubborn

villager who refused to allow the construction of a fence.

To save her son, his mother had jumped in front of him.

Both the mother and son had died on the same spot.

Lokku Mamma, who had been an eye witness to this

tragedy, was implicated in this case, which cost the

Abrahams a tidy sum. She also had to look after the

watcher's family until he came out of prison.

Matara

Way back in Matara, uncle Arthur's sons, Amaradasa and

Sugatadasa lived with my grandmotrher. In the adjoining

village, Pamburana, was my aunt Sujatha and her family.

This elder sister of my mother's had married in to a fairly

rich family, where the only son, a reckless type had run

through his resources leaving my aunt and children in

relative discomfort. Being educated, the children soon

picked up quickly, entering universities here and abroad

40 41

38

and achieving what earlier generations had failed to

obtain.

Uncle Arthur's sons, Amaradasa and Sugathadasa were

with grandmother because by this time, their mother from

Kahandawa in the deep south was no more. Memories of

Kahandawa nanda are associated with uncle and pots of

curd he always brought, but I don't remember her. In the

evenings, all the nephews including Dywynne ayya were at

grandmother's house to do their homework with uncle U

P. Amaradasa was always in hot water - cutting school and

playing volleyball with the village boys. When he came

home late, uncle would thrash him until he howled in pain.

His brother was quite a contrast - very docile and never

offending anybody. I felt sorry he would leave when he

became a monk. I remember the ordination ceremony

when with shaven head, he joined the Order. He left us to

join the Vajiraramaya in Bambalapitiya where he was

entrusted to the care of Palane Sri Vajiranyana thera, a

grand uncle.

39

Grandfather’s brother

Another faint recollection of early days is the memory of

seeing in the rear of grandmother's house, in a room, a

very old gentleman with long white hair and a flowing

white beard. He was reclining on an easy chair. He was

being fed by the man who looked after him. He was C P

muththa, my grand father's youngest brother who had

worked with Daya Hewavitharana and Anagarika

Dharmapala and others in the forefront of the Buddhist

cultural revival. He had had a hand in designing the

Buddhist flag, someone said in later years. At the time I

saw him he was very old and recognized no one.

Harvesting season - Akurassa

During the harvesting season, grandmother visited

Akurassa just to keep an eye on things. Jamis drove us

miles and miles by buggy and no wonder I fell asleep on

the way. We stayed the night in the Vidanaarachchis

house. It is the best house in the village. We slept in a four

poster bed on a fine mat of multi-coloured reeds,

beautifully woven in an intricate design of birds and

flowers and leaves.

40 41

39

Grandfather’s brother

Another faint recollection of early days is the memory of

seeing in the rear of grandmother's house, in a room, a

very old gentleman with long white hair and a flowing

white beard. He was reclining on an easy chair. He was

being fed by the man who looked after him. He was C P

muththa, my grand father's youngest brother who had

worked with Daya Hewavitharana and Anagarika

Dharmapala and others in the forefront of the Buddhist

cultural revival. He had had a hand in designing the

Buddhist flag, someone said in later years. At the time I

saw him he was very old and recognized no one.

Harvesting season - Akurassa

During the harvesting season, grandmother visited

Akurassa just to keep an eye on things. Jamis drove us

miles and miles by buggy and no wonder I fell asleep on

the way. We stayed the night in the Vidanaarachchis

house. It is the best house in the village. We slept in a four

poster bed on a fine mat of multi-coloured reeds,

beautifully woven in an intricate design of birds and

flowers and leaves.

42 43

40

Jamis had started a romantic affair with grandmother's

cook. He used to visit her at night when all were asleep.

The kitchen window was as far as he could get - but at

least he could speak to her. Grandmother who got a wind

of this romance got white sand spread outside the

window, hoping to do some clever detective work, but

Jamis was too shrewed. He swept away all the tell-tale

footprints and grandmother was left once again without

sufficient proof of their rendezvous. However, not long

afterwards, with grandmother's blessings, Jamis and Hinni

Hami settled down in their home in Akuressa. It was Jamis

who looked after the paddy fields.

Dondra

In these early years, I remember accompanying

grandmother to the Dondra fair. It was like a village fair of

today, not very much bigger, but it was an important

annual event, especially because it coincided with the

festivities of the Dewundara Devalaya. Of all the things

that caught my fancy were multi-coloured glass bangles

that glinted so beautifully in the sunlight. Grandmother

brought me a few of these scintillating bangles - not as

many as I would have liked to have. To compensate that

41

she brought Kalu Dodol - my favourite sweet meet and the

best sweet meat we can boast. It was twisted in to

sheathes made of dried Aricunut leaves.

When Jamis left Silva became the seethawasa buggy

driver. He drove us to school and uncle to office. Uncle U

P, a lawyer was a handsome young man. I remember some

teachers remarking that he was very good looking and

wondering whether he was still a bachelor! But I was not

as fond of him as I was of Indian uncle. He was Indian

uncle of Indian fairytales.

Uncle S P

By this time, Nalini too had joined us. Pretty Nalini had no

mother and we were extra kind to her. She wasn't at St.

Thomas' for long. She meant much to uncle S P and St.

Thomas' wasn't good enough for her. She must go to

Visakha Vidyalaya. She must be another Indira Gandhi? As

his expectations were fairly high, she left us. Uncle was a

popular parent at the Visakha hostel. "Everyone rallied

around to speak to him and I rarely got a chance to do so"

Nalini said. He was like a film star, I used to think.

42 43

41

she brought Kalu Dodol - my favourite sweet meet and the

best sweet meat we can boast. It was twisted in to

sheathes made of dried Aricunut leaves.

When Jamis left Silva became the seethawasa buggy

driver. He drove us to school and uncle to office. Uncle U

P, a lawyer was a handsome young man. I remember some

teachers remarking that he was very good looking and

wondering whether he was still a bachelor! But I was not

as fond of him as I was of Indian uncle. He was Indian

uncle of Indian fairytales.

Uncle S P

By this time, Nalini too had joined us. Pretty Nalini had no

mother and we were extra kind to her. She wasn't at St.

Thomas' for long. She meant much to uncle S P and St.

Thomas' wasn't good enough for her. She must go to

Visakha Vidyalaya. She must be another Indira Gandhi? As

his expectations were fairly high, she left us. Uncle was a

popular parent at the Visakha hostel. "Everyone rallied

around to speak to him and I rarely got a chance to do so"

Nalini said. He was like a film star, I used to think.

44 4542

As he was a successful executive at Basanquet & Skrine, he

was able to take a special interest in his mother and

family. When he paid a visit to Matara, he was able to

bring gifts for everyone. Although uncle Arthur was the

eldest in the family, it was uncle S P who was called upon

to steer the family ship in events of emergency. I can not

remember my grandfather. He was probably no more by

the time I came in to this world and so it was always

grandmother who ruled the roost at normal times. I must

say uncle S P was a very duty conscious son and brother

but misfortune had befallen him when he lost his beloved

Jesse. Aunty was a kind and beautiful lady. It wasn't easy

to get over a death like that of hers or for a matter of fact,

death of any kind. So we must understand why he wasn't

interested in marrying aunty Jesse's sisters but it would

have done him a world of good, because he seemed so

lonely in later years. Although uncle was caring and

concerned about his kith and kin, he was not extra

lenient. He knew when to be strict and that is all the more

reason why everyone looked up to him. When there was

cause for anxiety in our family, when we were children, it

was uncle whom mother sent for. His very presence gave

her courage to face any situation. 43

In later years, my brother who had joined the army as a

Second Lieutenant and was under training in Diyathalawa

had met with an accident. He had incurred a spinal injury.

Father and uncle had visited him. In his usual disciplinary

tone, he shouted at brother "pannina kehelmala pannina

hatiyata panninne nathowa mokkadda me karagaththe".

The whole ward had burst in to fits of laughter. Brother

who was in pain had forgotten about his pain and joined

in. Immediately after the first onslaught, uncle had toned

down and spoken like the good uncle that he was.

Ghost Writer

Seethawasa, Wakgama, Matara was normally a quiet

household, but there were periods of feverish activity.

Uncle contested and won a village council election. It was

in the Tihagoda Godagama area but names seem to get

mixed up and become elusive to me after all these years.

Later it was thought he would contest the Matara seat in

the state council, but fate had decreed otherwise and my

kind aunt was widowed early in life. To think anyone could

die of appendicitis is quite unusual today. But it did

happen and the three little sons grew up without a father -

44 45

43

In later years, my brother who had joined the army as a

Second Lieutenant and was under training in Diyathalawa

had met with an accident. He had incurred a spinal injury.

Father and uncle had visited him. In his usual disciplinary

tone, he shouted at brother "pannina kehelmala pannina

hatiyata panninne nathowa mokkadda me karagaththe".

The whole ward had burst in to fits of laughter. Brother

who was in pain had forgotten about his pain and joined

in. Immediately after the first onslaught, uncle had toned

down and spoken like the good uncle that he was.

Ghost Writer

Seethawasa, Wakgama, Matara was normally a quiet

household, but there were periods of feverish activity.

Uncle contested and won a village council election. It was

in the Tihagoda Godagama area but names seem to get

mixed up and become elusive to me after all these years.

Later it was thought he would contest the Matara seat in

the state council, but fate had decreed otherwise and my

kind aunt was widowed early in life. To think anyone could

die of appendicitis is quite unusual today. But it did

happen and the three little sons grew up without a father -

46 4744

their mother and grandmother guiding their destinies. I

was deeply moved by uncle's death. I wrote one of my first

poems which was published in the school magazine. "This

girl could never have written this", some of the Pundits at

the other side of the school wall, St. Thomas' Boy's school

said. But I was 13+ and did write it. But my own teachers

did not doubt me.

To the Sky:

O sky

Now when I look upon thy star bespangled face

I think of joys and sorrows that do quick proceed

Thou art not always starlit

Black, darkened clouds trespass thy way

So is it with life

Joy never lasts, sorrow is always on her path

So do we midst joys and sorrows live

But must go when we are called

Along the path which we have traced

When I look back on my poem later, I myself wondered

whether it was my uncle's death which inspired me or

45

whether it was my dead uncle who inspired me to write it.

Strange things do happen in life and we cannot account for

them.

Aunty Roselyn

My uncle's sons, who attended our school at the

beginning, later shifted to the boy's school and Ananda

College, Colombo. Rahula College, Matara was also

becoming popular and my youngest cousin, George

attended that school. My grandmother was deeply shaken

by the loss of her son and so was my bereaved aunt. It

must have given them some solace in later years when my

aunt's brother, Harry Dias Abeygunawardena, making

Seethawasa his headquarters contested and won the

Matara seat in the State Council. But that was on a

Communist ticket. However I was not there to experience

the tremendous amount of activity that must have been in

operation. I had passed my Cambridge Senior examination

and shifted to St. John's College, Panadura for my London

Matriculation.

46 47

45

whether it was my dead uncle who inspired me to write it.

Strange things do happen in life and we cannot account for

them.

Aunty Roselyn

My uncle's sons, who attended our school at the

beginning, later shifted to the boy's school and Ananda

College, Colombo. Rahula College, Matara was also

becoming popular and my youngest cousin, George

attended that school. My grandmother was deeply shaken

by the loss of her son and so was my bereaved aunt. It

must have given them some solace in later years when my

aunt's brother, Harry Dias Abeygunawardena, making

Seethawasa his headquarters contested and won the

Matara seat in the State Council. But that was on a

Communist ticket. However I was not there to experience

the tremendous amount of activity that must have been in

operation. I had passed my Cambridge Senior examination

and shifted to St. John's College, Panadura for my London

Matriculation.

48 49

46

Sekkuwa

In the years before uncle died, and even afterwards, the

household was a hub of activity at various times. When

the harvest was brought in, long "magal" mats were rolled

out in the spacious backyard and the grain was dried well

before it was stored in a huge wooden box which occupied

half the kitchen. Once in two or three months, coconuts

were brought and heaped in great mounds in the

backyard. Many men were employed to husk the

coconuts. They were split in two and placed faced upwards

to dry in the warm sunshine. The 'palamada' which were

formed inside some of the coconut was good eating and

were sold to women who carried them away in large

baskets.

After the coconut kernels were removed from their shells

and dried for many weeks in the open yard, they were fed

in ti a stone grinder - a sekkuwa - to produce coconut oil. A

bull was tied to one end of the long pole attached to the

giant grinder. The bull was driven round andround by a

boy employed to keep the sekkuwa turning. Once the oil

was collected, the refuse was sold as fodder for cart bulls.

The sekkuwas have disappeared completely from homes

47

these days but in those days, young masters of the house

had much fun sitting beside the sekku drivers, helping it to

go round and round. Gone are these leisurely days and

nowhere does anyone see a sekkuwa in coconut growing

areas of the south. The introduction of machinery in

factories has ousted this ancient mode completely. If at all

it serves the purpose of being an ornamental feature in

some fashionable urban garden or tourist hotel. The oil

extracted through the sekkuwa was not used for domestic

purposes. For this purpose, oil was made differently.

Scraped coconut was boiled in a large bronze vessel,

squeezed by hand and pounded in a wooden mortar by

two women who took turns in dealin the alternative shots.

The thudding sound of the pester and mortar, the creaking

of the sekkuwa, the slow grinding of kurakkan on the small

stone grinder were familiar sounds in the rear sections of

old homes in the south in bygone days. Nevertheless, the

ladies of the household who took great pride in their black

long hair used neither of these varieties of oil. They used

the "ran thambili" - kind coconut scented with roasted dil

seed and dried savandara roots.

48 4947

these days but in those days, young masters of the house

had much fun sitting beside the sekku drivers, helping it to

go round and round. Gone are these leisurely days and

nowhere does anyone see a sekkuwa in coconut growing

areas of the south. The introduction of machinery in

factories has ousted this ancient mode completely. If at all

it serves the purpose of being an ornamental feature in

some fashionable urban garden or tourist hotel. The oil

extracted through the sekkuwa was not used for domestic

purposes. For this purpose, oil was made differently.

Scraped coconut was boiled in a large bronze vessel,

squeezed by hand and pounded in a wooden mortar by

two women who took turns in dealin the alternative shots.

The thudding sound of the pester and mortar, the creaking

of the sekkuwa, the slow grinding of kurakkan on the small

stone grinder were familiar sounds in the rear sections of

old homes in the south in bygone days. Nevertheless, the

ladies of the household who took great pride in their black

long hair used neither of these varieties of oil. They used

the "ran thambili" - kind coconut scented with roasted dil

seed and dried savandara roots.

50 51

48

Matara breadfruit season

At certain times of the year and quite often, cart loads of

breadfruit fruit from various parts of the village were sold

by the cart load. The fruits that were part broken were cut

up and boiled to be distributed among workers - both men

and women. Balaya cut up and curried accompanied the

boiled breadfruit. Sometimes, scraped coconut was an

addition. This was enjoyed heartily by one and all. Today,

people will shy away from such heaty combinations. But

in those days they ate it and there were no unpleasant

after effects. In fact I have heard it said that even poorer,

ill-nourished women became robust and round during the

breadfruit season. Breadfruit was also dried and store

away for a rainy day, at least to supplement the big eaters

among the workers. The breadfruit cut up was par boiled

in hot water and cut again in to thin strips. These were

spread on coarse mats and dried in the hot sun. The

cutting up was a slow process which required many hands.

It had to be completed as quickly as possible. I too found it

to be an interesting past-time. Squatting on the floor and

cutting up the soft breadfruit with a sharp knife held firmly

between the big toe and the second. Many women helped

49

in the operation. At the long back verandah, were full of

hands at work.

Temple visits

Sometimes we went to a temple at Divigalahena and on

Poya nights we walked to the Pamburana temple to listen

to the Bana preachings. Walking back in the moonlight

was pleasant and even the hooting of the night owl, earlier

considered to be eerie and foreboding had become a

soothing night song.

When I look back on the earlier period of my life, I find I

have a certain empathy for the buggy cart. I knew people

conduct Hakeri races but I don't know why they don't

popularise races of buggy carts.

As in a dream, I remember the girls who used to go to

school by buggy - Johanah in her buggy cart, the Welage

watta sisters in theirs, Chandra Wanigasekara and her long

legged brother in their shinny new buggy, the Perera's in

their large buggy and aunty Derby's cart in which she was

always chaperoned by one of her parents and so many

others, especially so when I saw the school buggy cart on

50 51

49

in the operation. At the long back verandah, were full of

hands at work.

Temple visits

Sometimes we went to a temple at Divigalahena and on

Poya nights we walked to the Pamburana temple to listen

to the Bana preachings. Walking back in the moonlight

was pleasant and even the hooting of the night owl, earlier

considered to be eerie and foreboding had become a

soothing night song.

When I look back on the earlier period of my life, I find I

have a certain empathy for the buggy cart. I knew people

conduct Hakeri races but I don't know why they don't

popularise races of buggy carts.

As in a dream, I remember the girls who used to go to

school by buggy - Johanah in her buggy cart, the Welage

watta sisters in theirs, Chandra Wanigasekara and her long

legged brother in their shinny new buggy, the Perera's in

their large buggy and aunty Derby's cart in which she was

always chaperoned by one of her parents and so many

others, especially so when I saw the school buggy cart on

52 53

50

the day the old girls visited St. Thomas' Matara. How I wish

I could get in and ride that cart once more. But before I

could voice my opinion, a more energetic young person,

Esther, had already jumped in and was being driven

around the school quadrangle.

Walgama

Walgama Matara was a sleepy hamlet by Galle road and

there was little to disturb its peace in the days gone by. On

a long weekend sometimes, grandmother brought us from

the hostel. When school closed for the long holidays, it

was grandmother who took us to our parental homes.

People rarely travelled by bus. Long distance travel was

always by train. That would mean you were living close to

a station - which couldn't always be. However, we set off

early in the morning to get to Kamburugamuwa station.

Jamis got the buggy ready with candles lit inside the two

lamps to the right and left of his driving seat and we sat in

the rear and made the slow, sleepy ride to the station. To

begin with, all round us was darkness and the candle light

cast eerie patterns on the road. We had started so early,

that when we finally got to the station at daybreak, we

had a long wait until the train came. We had set off too

51

early, but that was my grandmothers' way of doing things.

No one would question her because everyone knew she

would never miss a train.

Grandmother was a welcome visitor in the homes of her

children in Kalutara, Horana and Pannipitiya. Our first stop

was at Mirishena estate, Kalutara, where grandmother's

prosperous daughter lived. After a few happy days with

cousins - Ena, Nerissa, Edmond and Wopedewa, we

resumed our journey to Horana.

52 53

51

early, but that was my grandmothers' way of doing things.

No one would question her because everyone knew she

would never miss a train.

Grandmother was a welcome visitor in the homes of her

children in Kalutara, Horana and Pannipitiya. Our first stop

was at Mirishena estate, Kalutara, where grandmother's

prosperous daughter lived. After a few happy days with

cousins - Ena, Nerissa, Edmond and Wopedewa, we

resumed our journey to Horana.

54 55

52

CHAPTER 3

"We are what the winds and waters have made us"

Sorana Horana

This was where we spent a very happy childhood.

Grandmother too liked staying with her youngest

daughter. So my cousins Jeswyn and Nalini also found

themselves spending a considerable part of their holiday

with us. Sometimes our little cousins, Indra and Chandra

joined us. Uncle J P and aunty Susila came to stay with us

no sooner schools closed. By then uncle had returned from

India. He was principal of Gamini College, Bentota. He

always preferred working in rural areas. He did not want

the big schools in the town. Uncle was principal of

Hunumulla Central and Gamini College both. Little Usha

who studies in uncle's schools and the Blue Mountain

(Nilgri) school in Utih to begin with finally joined the

Madras Medical College. She brought a great deal of

happiness in to their lives. Later, when they settled down

in Woodland Avenue, Usha and her children were devoted

to the grandparents.

53

Having many visitors was always a welcome proposition

because we had a large bungalow, many servants to help

and plenty of good food too. Sorana was a rubber estate,

one of a large group of estates belonging to George Stuart

and Company. Sorana was ideal for a holiday. In the

spacious bungalow and on the estate with its hills and

valleys, lakes and ponds and streams, we spent many

happy years.

Before school closed, mother was ready for us. She had

made quantities of sweets - Milk toffee, puhul dosi, Kalu

Dodol and sometimes Bibikkan and Muscat too. I being the

eldest was entrusted with the keys of the safe. Sweets

were given at appropriate times by mother. But M R

impatiently removed the hinges of the safe and took

whatever he wanted, while I who was the custodian of the

safe had my fill. The younger folk who were clueless about

these pranks were content with whatever mother gave.

However, the present day child would not be interested in

eating these sweets. He would definitely prefer short eats

and cakes. We had a dairy which supplied milk and curd. In

our large back garden grew many fruits - plantains,

papaws, mangoes, pineapples, passion fruit and dodan.

54 55

53

Having many visitors was always a welcome proposition

because we had a large bungalow, many servants to help

and plenty of good food too. Sorana was a rubber estate,

one of a large group of estates belonging to George Stuart

and Company. Sorana was ideal for a holiday. In the

spacious bungalow and on the estate with its hills and

valleys, lakes and ponds and streams, we spent many

happy years.

Before school closed, mother was ready for us. She had

made quantities of sweets - Milk toffee, puhul dosi, Kalu

Dodol and sometimes Bibikkan and Muscat too. I being the

eldest was entrusted with the keys of the safe. Sweets

were given at appropriate times by mother. But M R

impatiently removed the hinges of the safe and took

whatever he wanted, while I who was the custodian of the

safe had my fill. The younger folk who were clueless about

these pranks were content with whatever mother gave.

However, the present day child would not be interested in

eating these sweets. He would definitely prefer short eats

and cakes. We had a dairy which supplied milk and curd. In

our large back garden grew many fruits - plantains,

papaws, mangoes, pineapples, passion fruit and dodan.

56 57

54

The bungalow at Sorana had a right wing and a left. The

boys had the smaller right wing to themselves while the

girls had accommodation on the right side which extended

to the kitchen and servants' quarters. In the rooms

adjoining the kitchen, all the domestic activity involving

the female population took place. Beside the normal

household chores, there was the pounding of paddy and

the grinding of kurakkan.

In Kaluthara and Horana, it never rains but pours. Prior to

the introduction of electricity and water service, we had

great fun running from sprout to sprout in the rain pouring

down in torrents. We were not supposed to do it but we

did it very gayliy. No coughs and colds, no fever - we were

immune to all that.

Normally we bathed in a lovely pond near the fields. It was

a secluded spot and the water was within our reach. With

all the fresh air and sunshine and cool, clear water, we

grew up, the seven of us. MR an JR now borders at St.

John's College, Panadura and us at St. Thomas', Matara.

But these were holidays and we were free to wander, free

55

to roam as we wishes, provided we kept to safe areas and

Guneris accommpanied us. Next to the girls' large

bedroom was a smaller room with a built in table and

wooden seats used originally for what I do not know. It

became our favourite resort for reading, cooking and all

kinds of kindred activity. The entrance to this was through

the side garden but we always got in through our bedroom

window which had our names and nick names carved on it.

This was specifically our domain. I don't remember the

older generation having anything to do with it except

when we invited them to taste out cooking. Meals were

heavily subsidised by the main kitchen but this was our

own - not only girls own but boys own too (there were

popular magazines by these names).

In the front garden, bordering the wide green lawn were

many huge trees with bright green foliage and vivid orange

flowers; the young buds of which we use to spurt a

colourless liquid to annoy one another. White temple

flower trees which grew near the front garden wall not

only provided flowers but gave us comfortable seats

among their gnarl branches. On the further side near the

house were guava trees we climbed to eat the ripened

56 57

55

to roam as we wishes, provided we kept to safe areas and

Guneris accommpanied us. Next to the girls' large

bedroom was a smaller room with a built in table and

wooden seats used originally for what I do not know. It

became our favourite resort for reading, cooking and all

kinds of kindred activity. The entrance to this was through

the side garden but we always got in through our bedroom

window which had our names and nick names carved on it.

This was specifically our domain. I don't remember the

older generation having anything to do with it except

when we invited them to taste out cooking. Meals were

heavily subsidised by the main kitchen but this was our

own - not only girls own but boys own too (there were

popular magazines by these names).

In the front garden, bordering the wide green lawn were

many huge trees with bright green foliage and vivid orange

flowers; the young buds of which we use to spurt a

colourless liquid to annoy one another. White temple

flower trees which grew near the front garden wall not

only provided flowers but gave us comfortable seats

among their gnarl branches. On the further side near the

house were guava trees we climbed to eat the ripened

58 59

56

fruits which grew there. Situated a short distance from the

bungalow was the main factory, a four story building in

which crepe rubber was made. Sometimes, when we had

visitors, father conducted them on a guided tour of the

premises and we too trailed behind them. Otherwise we

had very little to do with the factory or the office. In the

evening when the work was over, we ran races and also

played cricket on the factory lawn, which was very

spacious. Father joined us sometimes when we played

cricket. Further end of the factory was the stores, where

rice and food stuff was doled out to the labourers and

rubber tappers. The older Tamil women wore saree minus

blouses but the younger ones wore blouses to match their

colourful long skirts. Close by was the bakery where a

friendly man with a black moustache which turned

upwards at either end made excellent bread and cakes on

request.

The Lakes

Beyond our back garden were two lakes - one small and

the other large constructed for the purpose of storing

water for pumping to the factory. Around the bigger lake

were bamboo groves on the embankments and slopes. On

57

this bund - between the lake and fields below, we spent

many an evening listening to records play on our portable

gramophone "my blue heaven, the donkey's serenade, the

whistler and his dog, the woodpecker's song, oh wonderful

child, somewhere over the rainbow, will there be any

cowboys up in heaven". Bing Crosby, Gene Audrey, Frank

Sinatra were popular singers. Gene Audrey singing "Darling

how can you forget so soon?" was more a plaintative wail

than a song. We had Sinhala records soon "Sara Surathi

Ramya, Wandanawe Yamu, Gauthama Siri Pada Wandimi

Samanala kande, and Rukmni Devi's Siri buddhagaya, dadi

kala matha and a host of others."Vile malak pipila

kadimay" had become a popular hit. Jeswyn and Jinadasa

used to dance to this tune (and Jinadasa is no more).

Sometimes J R enlivened these proceedings by playing the

mouth organ. It was he who like a one man band

accompanied us when we went for walks or climbed hills.

There was a favourite of ours - Narathana kanda, which

fired our imagination. Na (iron wood) and rubber trees

grew on top too and as we clamoured up the slopes,

climbing over boulders and rocks, both Guneris and rubber

tappers told us stories of cattle theives and robbers who

used the rock caves for their nefarious activities. Where

58 5957

this bund - between the lake and fields below, we spent

many an evening listening to records play on our portable

gramophone "my blue heaven, the donkey's serenade, the

whistler and his dog, the woodpecker's song, oh wonderful

child, somewhere over the rainbow, will there be any

cowboys up in heaven". Bing Crosby, Gene Audrey, Frank

Sinatra were popular singers. Gene Audrey singing "Darling

how can you forget so soon?" was more a plaintative wail

than a song. We had Sinhala records soon "Sara Surathi

Ramya, Wandanawe Yamu, Gauthama Siri Pada Wandimi

Samanala kande, and Rukmni Devi's Siri buddhagaya, dadi

kala matha and a host of others."Vile malak pipila

kadimay" had become a popular hit. Jeswyn and Jinadasa

used to dance to this tune (and Jinadasa is no more).

Sometimes J R enlivened these proceedings by playing the

mouth organ. It was he who like a one man band

accompanied us when we went for walks or climbed hills.

There was a favourite of ours - Narathana kanda, which

fired our imagination. Na (iron wood) and rubber trees

grew on top too and as we clamoured up the slopes,

climbing over boulders and rocks, both Guneris and rubber

tappers told us stories of cattle theives and robbers who

used the rock caves for their nefarious activities. Where

60 61

58

the iron wood (Na) grew, there was a large slab of stone

well maintained by the sun and rain. We sat on it when we

had a picnic or watched the bright red sun going down

leaving a big beautiful red, orange and gold sky. But we

never dared to stay too long because night would soon be

upon us. Down we clambered as fast as we could, until we

felt safe in the paddy fields below the lakes.

During the day sometimes my brothers, with Guneris's

help made raft like bats with banana trunks, straddled

together with spikes driven in to them. They rode from

one end of the lake to the other from Fort Fredrick to Fort

St. George (we were steeped in the history of the British

empire and hardly had regard for our own). Brothers knew

how to swim but we didn't never dared to enter the water

- even to pluck the white Olu which grew there.

Vesak

On Vesak days we decorated the front verandah and

garden with coloured lanterns, flags and festoons of

garlands made with strips of brightly coloured paper.

There were a few Japanese lanterns and other decorations

pulled out from where they had been carefully stored after

59

the previous year's Vesak celebrations. After Vesak

celebrations, the servants usually scraped the candle wax

which had fallen on to the cement floor and recycled them

in to candles with the help of a papaw stem. After one

Vesak, we thought of doing it ourselves. Lily had the

papaw stem while I poured the re-heated candle wax, not

only in to the papaw stem but also on Lily's hand. She

screamed in pain. I had heard that salt was the best

remedy for burns so I dashed in to the kitchen and brought

the salt water which I poured on to Lily's hand, which was

extremely red and blistered. Lily screamed louder and

louder so I rubbed the salt in to the affected areas. Larger

blisters came up and I got really frightened. It was a great

relief that mother had come and was scolding me. Lily was

taken to the hospital at the boundary and received prompt

attention. Although the burn injury healed quickly, pinkish

white marks remained for many years. We fortunately saw

the last of them a few months before Lily's wedding.

Father takes us on tours

Sometimes father took us on trips to such memorable

places. We started by going South, visiting friends and

family in theTangalle/ Kataragama areas. Driving cross-

60 61

59

the previous year's Vesak celebrations. After Vesak

celebrations, the servants usually scraped the candle wax

which had fallen on to the cement floor and recycled them

in to candles with the help of a papaw stem. After one

Vesak, we thought of doing it ourselves. Lily had the

papaw stem while I poured the re-heated candle wax, not

only in to the papaw stem but also on Lily's hand. She

screamed in pain. I had heard that salt was the best

remedy for burns so I dashed in to the kitchen and brought

the salt water which I poured on to Lily's hand, which was

extremely red and blistered. Lily screamed louder and

louder so I rubbed the salt in to the affected areas. Larger

blisters came up and I got really frightened. It was a great

relief that mother had come and was scolding me. Lily was

taken to the hospital at the boundary and received prompt

attention. Although the burn injury healed quickly, pinkish

white marks remained for many years. We fortunately saw

the last of them a few months before Lily's wedding.

Father takes us on tours

Sometimes father took us on trips to such memorable

places. We started by going South, visiting friends and

family in theTangalle/ Kataragama areas. Driving cross-

62 63

60

country we were in the hills - Banadarawela, Nuwara Eliya,

Kandy, Matale, over to Mahiyangana. Soon we were in the

historic Polonnaruwa/ Anuradhapura regions. Having

worshipped at places of religious interest, we were once

more in the North West coast driving homewards. Even

after children got married and numbers increased, we

rarely missed this annual trip.

Sinhala New Year

Who was more welcome than the Koha who ushered in

the New Year. We loved to hear his voice and tried to

imitate him and thought the world of him, little realising

that he was an unattractive bird, somewhat like a small

crow. When he heralded the New Year, it was time for

everyone to get ready.New clothes were bought and

dresses sewn. Presents (a general gift that would benefit

everybody) like games was bought and hidden out of sight

until 14th April). Meanwhile, the house itself was full of

the aroma of different kinds of sweets - Mung

Kawum,kokis and finally, kawum (oil cakes) were carefully

stored in new earthenwear vessels. Making kalu dodol was

a laborious process, but if made, it was the favourite of the

season. All this we watched, sitting by the fireside.

61

Sometimes, many hands were at work and there was a

great deal of excitement. Twirling the ekel to correctly to

get the "kondey" of the kawum needed skill and couldn't

be mastered by the likes of us.

On New Year morning the table was laid with milk rice, oil

cakes, kokis, ripe plantains and a host of other sweets. A

brightly polished brass lamp stood on the table as it did

every year, shedding a warm glow. It gave a cheery aura of

peace and plenty as it brightened our tabel every April.

Father, mother and seven of us in brand new clothes, sat

round the table and partook of the first meal at the

auspicious time. The servants lit crackers. Later they too

sat at the same table and had their meal and even the

cows in the dairy were given their share of kiribath. Father

gave us money which we were supposed to keep until the

following year but I must admit we spent it on our first

visit to the hostel tuck shop.

On New Year's day, the lunch was also a grand one. We

ate sitting on a mat, at the centre of which was all the rice

and curries. Our plates had plantain leaves on them. This

must have been a Hindu custom my father observed but

62 6361

Sometimes, many hands were at work and there was a

great deal of excitement. Twirling the ekel to correctly to

get the "kondey" of the kawum needed skill and couldn't

be mastered by the likes of us.

On New Year morning the table was laid with milk rice, oil

cakes, kokis, ripe plantains and a host of other sweets. A

brightly polished brass lamp stood on the table as it did

every year, shedding a warm glow. It gave a cheery aura of

peace and plenty as it brightened our tabel every April.

Father, mother and seven of us in brand new clothes, sat

round the table and partook of the first meal at the

auspicious time. The servants lit crackers. Later they too

sat at the same table and had their meal and even the

cows in the dairy were given their share of kiribath. Father

gave us money which we were supposed to keep until the

following year but I must admit we spent it on our first

visit to the hostel tuck shop.

On New Year's day, the lunch was also a grand one. We

ate sitting on a mat, at the centre of which was all the rice

and curries. Our plates had plantain leaves on them. This

must have been a Hindu custom my father observed but

64 65

62

we never hear of it today, nor do we continue to do so in

our own homes.

Another special feature of the New Year was the swing.

We spent many an hour swinging and swinging,

sometimes alone and sometimes in twos. "How do you like

to go up in a swing, up in the air so blue...". We sang

"Onchili gee" too. We played gamed with cadjunuts. Each

one of us was given a quota from the cadju bank which

mother operated. We played "wala kaju" and "namawala"

lucky if the marble is rolled from a considerable distance

from the nine holes rolled into the centre hole and we

gathered all the cadjus in all nine holes, but even if you got

one hole you got the contents of that hole.

"Panchi" was another popular game. There was a special

board marked out for the purpose of playing panchi while

at the head near the board game. We others had when it

came to our turn, to drop the seashells "kawadi" and

count the numer that fell the face upwards. Like in the

game of Ludo, these numbers were entered on the board

by means of pawns of different colours or shapes in order

to get the final win, Panchi, like Ludo, was a team game

63

enjoyed by family and friends. It's a pity that these games

are no more. The computer loving chiled of the present

day knows nothing of these games we children played.

Temples

On bright moonlit nights on Poya days, we walked to the

big temple beyond the town. The trip to the Rajamaha

vihara we liked, but I must admit that it was the moonlight

walk we enjoyed above everything else. On other days, we

paid a visit to the avasa - the smaller temple nearby. It was

across the fields. We could hear the chanting of pirith in

the evenings, and when the temple bell was rung, it

reverberated in the cool twilight air, adding to the peace

and serenity that prevailed. The poem "village song"

echoes the beauty of the quiet evening.

"Come now oh come, the temple bell is ringing

The west is all aglow with golden fire"

It was mother who instilled into us the earliest essence of

religious wisdom. Our parents and the priests in the

temple and our relatives who were priests were the pillars

that helped us to prop up out Buddhist faith. In school we

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63

enjoyed by family and friends. It's a pity that these games

are no more. The computer loving chiled of the present

day knows nothing of these games we children played.

Temples

On bright moonlit nights on Poya days, we walked to the

big temple beyond the town. The trip to the Rajamaha

vihara we liked, but I must admit that it was the moonlight

walk we enjoyed above everything else. On other days, we

paid a visit to the avasa - the smaller temple nearby. It was

across the fields. We could hear the chanting of pirith in

the evenings, and when the temple bell was rung, it

reverberated in the cool twilight air, adding to the peace

and serenity that prevailed. The poem "village song"

echoes the beauty of the quiet evening.

"Come now oh come, the temple bell is ringing

The west is all aglow with golden fire"

It was mother who instilled into us the earliest essence of

religious wisdom. Our parents and the priests in the

temple and our relatives who were priests were the pillars

that helped us to prop up out Buddhist faith. In school we

66 6764

didn't learn Buddhism. Christianity and scripture were

compulsory. This did not worry us. We took it all in stride.

In fact, though a non- Christian, I often won the scripture

prize. One day my principal, Sister Huldah who was fond of

me said that I was a better Christian than Christians. I was

deeply elated. In later years my uncles and cousins

ridiculed me for having such a gullible follower of the

Christian faith. Even my Indian uncle condemned my

"decadent Christian ideas" as he called them. He, like all

other Indians was deeply immersed in the Independence

struggle in India. I thought then that it hardly matters what

name you give your faith. It is the guiding principals that

must be instilled in to the individuals so that they are

assimilated and we become good human beings.

Table-Tennis

One New Year day, father gave us a new present. It was a

Table Tennis set. He couldn't have thought of anything

better. We were in later years, most of us champs at table

tennis. When the war broke out and Australian soldiers

were posted at so called vantage points and one was our

favourite hill, Narathana Kande , they palled up with my

brothers and came over to play table tennis. My brothers,

65

who were Boy Scouts had fun at night, signalling to them

with torches. It was the Norse code they used for

exchanging messages. Later, after the Australians had left,

Punjabi soldiers were posted at various places in our

neighbourhood and in Sorana too. I remember some of

them teasing my sister. "Chota chokere, chota chokere

nami nami?" (little girl, little girl, what's your name?) but

she was shy and never answered their questions. With her

curly hair flying, she would make a beeline to mother and

hide. She was a teeny weeny little one with a fine head of

curly hair.

A little learning is not always a dangerous thing, because

our servant who had been sent to Colombo to see our

brothers in school had been waiting on the roadside for a

possible chance to get back. "Kia batha hai" Punjabi

soldiers in a truck asked him. "Horana ganta hai" had

replied and they had given him a lift to Horana. He was

ever so proud about his ability to converse with the

soldiers in what he thought was Punjabi language.

66 6765

who were Boy Scouts had fun at night, signalling to them

with torches. It was the Norse code they used for

exchanging messages. Later, after the Australians had left,

Punjabi soldiers were posted at various places in our

neighbourhood and in Sorana too. I remember some of

them teasing my sister. "Chota chokere, chota chokere

nami nami?" (little girl, little girl, what's your name?) but

she was shy and never answered their questions. With her

curly hair flying, she would make a beeline to mother and

hide. She was a teeny weeny little one with a fine head of

curly hair.

A little learning is not always a dangerous thing, because

our servant who had been sent to Colombo to see our

brothers in school had been waiting on the roadside for a

possible chance to get back. "Kia batha hai" Punjabi

soldiers in a truck asked him. "Horana ganta hai" had

replied and they had given him a lift to Horana. He was

ever so proud about his ability to converse with the

soldiers in what he thought was Punjabi language.

68 69

66

CHAPTER 4

Growing Pains

Brothers MR and JR were already borders at Ananda

College, Colombo when I joined the London Matriculation

Form at St. John's college. One of the two hostels for girls

was close to the school laboratory, while Ameshurst where

Miss Beth, the school principal of the Girl's school presided

was some distance away beyond the Girls Home Science

section and Tennis Court. Miss May Young was matron of

St. Patricks. Her younger sister Cissie Young also lived

there. St. Patricks was our hostel.

The principal's bungalow where Mr. And Mrs. Cyril Jansz Jr

and their pretty daughter Rosemary lived along with her

two brothers was on a terrace below. Beyond this spacious

bungalow and bordering the Kuruppamulla road was the

boys' hostel. These college buildings were on a large

property owned by the Jansz family. Sometimes children

of other family members like the talkative Peter Janz

joined the school. Jennifer Jansz, Mrs. Jansz's good looking

sister and Dorothy Koch, Glencora Keyt, a relative of

67

George Keyt, the painter, were besides many other

Burgher students and teachers whom I remember. If a boy

made a foolish mistake in class, another would shout "Hey,

where you come from?" and ridicule him.

Of course, we Sinhala students were a majority and this

was a co-educational institution where there was a certain

spirit of friendship - for which I think the genial Mr. Jansz

was responsible. Mr. And Mrs. Jansz were a handsome

couple and we seemed to feel that we were part of a large

extended family. Some of our teachers - Cissie Young, a

famous beauty in her day was out Botany teacher. Miss

Olive Blacker and Peglotte had spent the better part of

their teaching lives in the Panadura schools of which

College was a mixed institution while the Boys School was

for boys and the Girls School exclusively for girls. Then we

had the Maddkumbura Primary to which I have heard very

distinguished persons refer to as the place where they

began their schooling.

I was proud to belong to this vast institution and was

quickly immersed in the various activities of the school and

hostel. Our studies were directed by many qualified senior

68 69

67

George Keyt, the painter, were besides many other

Burgher students and teachers whom I remember. If a boy

made a foolish mistake in class, another would shout "Hey,

where you come from?" and ridicule him.

Of course, we Sinhala students were a majority and this

was a co-educational institution where there was a certain

spirit of friendship - for which I think the genial Mr. Jansz

was responsible. Mr. And Mrs. Jansz were a handsome

couple and we seemed to feel that we were part of a large

extended family. Some of our teachers - Cissie Young, a

famous beauty in her day was out Botany teacher. Miss

Olive Blacker and Peglotte had spent the better part of

their teaching lives in the Panadura schools of which

College was a mixed institution while the Boys School was

for boys and the Girls School exclusively for girls. Then we

had the Maddkumbura Primary to which I have heard very

distinguished persons refer to as the place where they

began their schooling.

I was proud to belong to this vast institution and was

quickly immersed in the various activities of the school and

hostel. Our studies were directed by many qualified senior

70 7168

teachers. Mr. Jansz himself did some of the Senior Science

subjects. He was son of the founder principal Cyril Jansz

who was confined to a wheelchair at the time I entered

the college. We were fortunate in having very good

teachers like Mr. Roberts who was a Cambridge graduate

and many other London graduates like Mr. Dias, an

excellent Mathematics teacher. Mr. Wickramaratne, Mr.

H.A.V Soysa, Mrs. Samarasekara and many other qualified

staff who made it possible for St. John's College to be one

of the premier educational institutions of the time.

The annual cricket match

(Johnian - Cambrian) was the most important item on the

school agenda. For weeks the schools were full of

enthusiasm. Whether the match was played in Panadura

or in Moratuwa, our excitement rose to a fever pitch. We

girls as well as the boys sang and cheered ourselves hoarse

from the Grand Stands while more energetic Old Boys and

young sang and danced baila. They had their own bands

too with drums and other instruments. At the match end,

whether we won or lost hardly mattered because a good

time was had by all.

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69

We also played an annual all girl cricket match on

Founders Day. It was in no way equal to the cricket fever

of the Big match. Another popular event was the cross

country race in which boys of college and schools took

part. Apart from the Johnians Day celebrations, Boy Scouts

and Girl Guides activities and Campfires - there were the

Tennis matches and Swimming Meets activity going on.

The school had a farm of the Hirana road where students

experimented in Agriculture and dairy farming.

Apart from names I have mentioned there, there are a

host of boys and girls, brothers and sisters who are not

easy to forget. The Diases, Goonewardenas, Fernandos,

Senanayakes, Kothalawalas, Senevirathnas and

Samaranayakas. Pramawathie Dias, Malathie and Nita

Cumaranathunge - who died early in life, I do remember

with sadness, the mischievous boys who were always in

trouble are remembered as are the clever ones who rose

to outstanding positions later in life. Very much a part of

the college, Krishna the peon cum gardener and Enga who

sold Kadala and Wadey near the boundary fence. During

the lunch intervals we sometimes walked down to the

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70

college gate to buy Elephant House ice palams which were

becoming popular.

I think I liked this school very much. So much so that in the

school magazine I wrote "will you remember me" to my

classroom (with apologies to R. L Spittel)

"Will you remember me when I am gone

When other students this my place do own

Will you remember me?"

At the end of my school career, quite contrary to my

wishes, I found myself entering the Teachers' Training

College. I never wanted to be a teacher.

The World War

War had reached us. Japanese bombs had fallen in

Colombo, which was virtually evacuated. Some schools

had opened in hill stations. Others had closed down.

People abandoned their city mansions and sought the

relative safety of their relatives in rural areas. Shops closed

and while in Colombo, we took our chance to buy articles

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71

now sold for a mere son. I brought two sarees - one a

mauve and the other a cream net with a silver ivy design

on its border, which was later dyed into a sea green. It was

beautiful. We had plenty of money having corrected Std V

exam papers for the first time in our lives. This was at the

government Training College. We were on Thurstan Road

near the University and Royal College. We had finished our

first year at GTC.

Rationing of food became the order of the day. My brother

who came home from the hostel had joked "rotti and lunu

miris for dinner and lunu mirris and rotti for breakfast".

We in rural Horana weren't badly hit but in Colombo we

had to give up our college premises, GTC and hostel and

leave for home. Next year we began under war time

conditions. The girls were put up at Fountain House on

Dean's Road, Maradana. Lectures were at St. Joseph's

College. Soon St. Joseph's too was commandeered by the

army. Driven from pillar to post, we found ourselves

quartered in four fairly large houses at Havelock Road in

Pamankada. Once again, the men students had to find

their own accommodation. Lectures were in a school

somewhere near the Wellawatta canal - the present

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Lumbini Vidyalaya. When the year ended, we found

ourselves fully fledged trained teacgers, ready to go in to

the world as professionals.

Becoming a doctor? Maybe someday

My Chinese friend was wily with excitement. "Just think of

it Leeda, we are trained teachers" she said. I got up as

from a long sleep. I wasn't unduly elated because teaching

wasn't the career I would have liked to choose. My dream

was to become a Doctor. It was my father's wish too.

At one time my horizons seemed to be brightening. Doctor

and Mrs. Amirthalingam had joined St. Thomas' Boy's

School and Girl's School, Matara with Sister Ada Mary's

acquiescence. I had made a start in Botany and other

Science subjects at the Boy's School but unfortunately for

me, my mother and my lawyer uncle, who should have

known better, opposed it. Had my youngest uncle been in

Ceylon, he would have promoted the idea, but he was in

far away India, but I who had no luck was thrown in to the

teaching career.

73

Englishman

At GTC , Mr. Bleakley, was our Vice Principal and lecturer

in Mathematics. He was a kind, elderly gentleman and I

suppose I was a good pupil and one of the youngest too.

He found me doing my problems with apparent ease while

the others were still struggling with them and remarked "

And this is the fool (referring to me) who was asked to go

to the University but opted to come to the Training

College".

I should have done better because I was quite good in

Mathematics and university education would open up new

vistas, new avenues for the likes of me - he must have

thought. Little did he know that Medicine was what I

yearned to do and my heart was never in the Teacher's

Training College.

Elders, all except father had decided that sons should do

Medicine and not daughters. Moreover, I was the eldest

girl in the family and should not devote so many years to

studies. My father had his Doctor - Dr. Blaze's backing and

would have encouraged me, but it was finally decreed that

my brother was to be a doctor. He was in the Pre-Medical

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Englishman

At GTC , Mr. Bleakley, was our Vice Principal and lecturer

in Mathematics. He was a kind, elderly gentleman and I

suppose I was a good pupil and one of the youngest too.

He found me doing my problems with apparent ease while

the others were still struggling with them and remarked "

And this is the fool (referring to me) who was asked to go

to the University but opted to come to the Training

College".

I should have done better because I was quite good in

Mathematics and university education would open up new

vistas, new avenues for the likes of me - he must have

thought. Little did he know that Medicine was what I

yearned to do and my heart was never in the Teacher's

Training College.

Elders, all except father had decided that sons should do

Medicine and not daughters. Moreover, I was the eldest

girl in the family and should not devote so many years to

studies. My father had his Doctor - Dr. Blaze's backing and

would have encouraged me, but it was finally decreed that

my brother was to be a doctor. He was in the Pre-Medical

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class at Ananda College when the war broke out. To my

father's great disappointment he joined the army as a 2nd

Lieutenant without so much as asking for my parents'

permission. And there ended my father's dream too

because he never encouraged anyone else in the family to

take to Medicine. Even my younger brother became a

lawyer, not a doctor. But my dream was still a dream. I

kept on dreaming this dream till after I got married and

had my first baby. I was so involved in her world that I

forgot all that I had not achieved. To study Medicine, to

become a doctor receded in to the background and I was

fully involved in my baby's world. I forgot all I had not

achieved. My heart and soul were in this child. This was

my greatest achievement.

Little did I realize what this attachment was going to cost

me. Our lives and destinies are pre-ordained, little can we

do to override this Karmic destiny. Our present is but a

cog in a wheel of long sansaric destiny and that is why we

are where we are today. We all have our dreams, but

there comes a time when our dreams fade into the

background as we face reality.

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Marriage

Marriage meant shifting to Galle. I had already been a

teacher at Sacred Hearth Convent, Galle and resuming

duties here and shifting to Mountain Hall Galle came in

stride. This was a large estate with a big bungalow and

dairy. The Senaratnes who lived in Mountain Hall were a

friendly group of relatives of my husband. "It was our good

fortune that brought you to us" said my sister-in-law who

received me with open arms. I was very welcome among

her three sons and step children.

I was determined to make a success of my marriage even

though others thought differently. My husband had been a

teacher at Royal College. Having done a two year training

course at GTC and got a degree too, D.S. Wijewardena

became principal of Siddhartha College, Balapitiya. We

were entitled to a spacious bungalow in Ambalangoda.

While at Mountain Hall, Jonathan Senaratne had

suggested "Ask for a house at the Fort, Galle. This is no

place for you". But we didn't. A Grade I Principals post

became available at Kalutara and with courage, my

husband took over. While working at Gnanodaya College,

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Marriage

Marriage meant shifting to Galle. I had already been a

teacher at Sacred Hearth Convent, Galle and resuming

duties here and shifting to Mountain Hall Galle came in

stride. This was a large estate with a big bungalow and

dairy. The Senaratnes who lived in Mountain Hall were a

friendly group of relatives of my husband. "It was our good

fortune that brought you to us" said my sister-in-law who

received me with open arms. I was very welcome among

her three sons and step children.

I was determined to make a success of my marriage even

though others thought differently. My husband had been a

teacher at Royal College. Having done a two year training

course at GTC and got a degree too, D.S. Wijewardena

became principal of Siddhartha College, Balapitiya. We

were entitled to a spacious bungalow in Ambalangoda.

While at Mountain Hall, Jonathan Senaratne had

suggested "Ask for a house at the Fort, Galle. This is no

place for you". But we didn't. A Grade I Principals post

became available at Kalutara and with courage, my

husband took over. While working at Gnanodaya College,

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Kalutara, we lived at Duwa Pansala Road. Available to us

was a spacious bungalow with a big garden in which grew

several kinds of fruit trees. We had Walgampayas and

several other good families to associate with but we also

had also had Ananda Godage for unwanted publicity.

Mrs. Don Carolis Abraham, my mother's elder sister, a rich

land owner was back again in our lives. Life went by like a

song with old friends and new until we finally brought a

property at Hena Road, Mt. Lavinia and shifted there.

Good fortune which always seemed to guide out footsteps

now seemed to fore sake us. Tragedy after tragedy came

our way. Unbearable. To top it all was Shreen's suicide.

How could we face all this with courage and confidence?

Asoka was a bright student at Royal and we had so much

hope in him and his inevitable success. He started

associating riff raff in the neighborhood and slowly got

dragged down by them. It was to our utter dismay that he

got involved in a car accident which impeded his

momentum at a crucial age. Despite these challenges he's

made a good come back in life. He married Damayanthi, a

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caring and sincere daughter-in-law and set up a vehicle

repair workshop after working in Oman for many years.

Our good angel Chandrika came to our rescue. She

became a Chartered Accountant and restored the family's

dignity and good name. She has her own printing company

in Kelaniya as well as other estates and enterprises. She

married in to a good family of relatives and rose to a

position in which she is held in high esteem.

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caring and sincere daughter-in-law and set up a vehicle

repair workshop after working in Oman for many years.

Our good angel Chandrika came to our rescue. She

became a Chartered Accountant and restored the family's

dignity and good name. She has her own printing company

in Kelaniya as well as other estates and enterprises. She

married in to a good family of relatives and rose to a

position in which she is held in high esteem.

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CHAPTER 5

Coming Home

Hena Road

The Hena Road garden was full of flowers. Bonnet flower

trees grew by the front garden wall during the season.

There were three lots with large pink bunches of flowers.

Mid-way on a structure constructed of coconut husks,

several placed together, grew the Kadupul - a rare variety

resembling whitish pink lotuses. Four or five flowers grew

at a time and people who saw them from the roadside

flocked to admire them. They blossomed at night and the

early hours of the morning. These flowers did not bloom

always but at rare intervals. Along the garden wall on the

right hand side, a few bougainvilleas and the painter's

brush with an abundance of mauvish, purplish flowers

covered the garage roof. On either side of the portico

grew two trees - one a pine tree and the other a beautiful

tree with dainty, small branches which everyone admired.

Over the gate was a creeper with sprays of Mauvish

flowers. On the temple flower tree hung float earthen-

ware pots in which grew various kinds of flowers and

ornamental plants.

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On Sundays the little ones, Niloo, Menaka and Anushka

were with us doing Mathematics with Seeya and extra

English with Achchi. I remember how naughty little

Menaka used to climb on the bonnet of grandpa's car in

order to look at the kittens next door, basking in the sun

among the painter’s brush that grew on the roof. "Get off

my car Menaka!" Seeya would shout and Menaka would

slide down with a mischievous laugh.

Vivian

At the turn to Hena road, I had witnessed a memorable

scene. The school bus had dropped me at the Hena road

halt, when I saw men dancing on the roadside. They were

both young and old Marxist colleagues. Just then a car

drew up and a lady got off. I recognised her. She was

Vivian Goonawardena, a senior party colleague of the

Marxists. Lifting her saree by one end, she joined the

dancing men, who now started clapping and dancing. They

continued merrily. Turning in to Hena road, where they

continued for a while. The car drew up once more, and

madam, who stopped dancing, got in. It would take her to

Lalith Athulathmudali Vidyalaya, the venue of the day's

meeting.

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On Sundays the little ones, Niloo, Menaka and Anushka

were with us doing Mathematics with Seeya and extra

English with Achchi. I remember how naughty little

Menaka used to climb on the bonnet of grandpa's car in

order to look at the kittens next door, basking in the sun

among the painter’s brush that grew on the roof. "Get off

my car Menaka!" Seeya would shout and Menaka would

slide down with a mischievous laugh.

Vivian

At the turn to Hena road, I had witnessed a memorable

scene. The school bus had dropped me at the Hena road

halt, when I saw men dancing on the roadside. They were

both young and old Marxist colleagues. Just then a car

drew up and a lady got off. I recognised her. She was

Vivian Goonawardena, a senior party colleague of the

Marxists. Lifting her saree by one end, she joined the

dancing men, who now started clapping and dancing. They

continued merrily. Turning in to Hena road, where they

continued for a while. The car drew up once more, and

madam, who stopped dancing, got in. It would take her to

Lalith Athulathmudali Vidyalaya, the venue of the day's

meeting.

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Moving home

Convinced by an 'idiot' who lived down Hena road. Asoka

has decided to finally shift us from Hena road. "Oh they

are becoming old and you should look after them or come

and live with them" he said. But we were very comfortable

with a home, a cook, a car and a driver who did our

marketing and other odd jobs. Although in my heart of

hearts "how long can we carry on like this" seemed to be

there.

I was not sorry to leave as most of my friends or almost all

had passed away. They were good friends. Mostly

Premadasas, Jayasinghes, Dharmasenas - and we were the

only ones left. We had so many other friends too - the

squirrels and the birds.

When Asoka undertook the responsibility of shifting us

from our home, Chandrika and Tissa were happy about us

coming to their home. These were days when I could walk

about, watering plants and making myself useful in several

minor ways. I was quite happy in my new home in Caldera

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gardens, Dutugamunu street. Our children and grand

children were good and kind to us.

Vignettes

Niloo - Nilu biloo of a bygone era

From Kiri Kung to little girl... 'Titta titta' she called her

father Tissa - used to give achchi little gifts and a lot of

love. Did a degree at Clark University followed up with a

MSc at Leeds University, UK and I hope it will be a PhD in

years to come. "How is it that you are so good at

Mathematics and English" the Dean of Clark University had

asked her. "My grandfather taught me Mathematics and

my grandmother taught me English" she had proudly

proclaimed. We were proud of her.

Tissa - my good son-in-law

Chandrika and children were away in London or USA. I was

very ill. Only Padmini was left behind. When Tissa was

informed, he got down an ambulance in which he took me

to Asiri. I was sick on the way too. Having got to the

hospital I told Tissa - we will need a lot of money just now.

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gardens, Dutugamunu street. Our children and grand

children were good and kind to us.

Vignettes

Niloo - Nilu biloo of a bygone era

From Kiri Kung to little girl... 'Titta titta' she called her

father Tissa - used to give achchi little gifts and a lot of

love. Did a degree at Clark University followed up with a

MSc at Leeds University, UK and I hope it will be a PhD in

years to come. "How is it that you are so good at

Mathematics and English" the Dean of Clark University had

asked her. "My grandfather taught me Mathematics and

my grandmother taught me English" she had proudly

proclaimed. We were proud of her.

Tissa - my good son-in-law

Chandrika and children were away in London or USA. I was

very ill. Only Padmini was left behind. When Tissa was

informed, he got down an ambulance in which he took me

to Asiri. I was sick on the way too. Having got to the

hospital I told Tissa - we will need a lot of money just now.

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How do we set about it? “TAAS” he said. I regained my

confidence.

Next morning, Anura was there and as Anura's aunt I

received the best of kindness - but now, Tissa keeps his

distance, maybe to avoid the old who may cause trouble

once again. I'm so full of aches and pains I don't know

what I should be doing. Arthritis to add to everything else.

I would like to see Nilu getting her Phd. How long? 2

years? 3 years? But at this rate, can I do it?

It would be good to put a peaceful end to my life? But can

I do it and bring shame on my children and grandchildren?

No, never. Can't I sleep and sleep forever - go on sleeping

forever?

Anita, Neram and Delicia were my welcome visitors. They

came often. I heard that Anita died and now I hear that

Delicia has got some serious complication - liver I'm told

(not Anura's line of business and he has put her on to

another doctor). May the blessings of the triple gem be

with her. May the devas protect her (My eyes are weak.

Really, I have only one eye. Dr. Charitha Fonseka said I had

a non- functioning optic nerve- as good as gone).

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Letter to the Londoners

O Ye Londoners!

How are ye faring? Is the winter cold or is it still a long

way away or are you happy to have just a few snow flakes

only? I can not say how wayward winter can be. I

remember something I have heard "If winter comes, can

Spring be far behind?".

I can remember watching Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)

many winters ago. What a marvellous play that was! I still

have faint recollections of that book I read long years ago,

or maybe a film I saw in days gone by.

I remember the glitter and glamour of days spent,

shopping at Harrods with its four or five entrances. There

was so much to see and so much to buy (if you had

money). It was summer and choc-a-bloc with gay

shoppers. Arundathie had to set up body guards for me

and even for Sena (fearing we would get lost in the

crowd). I remember seeing Westminster Abbey where all

great Englishmen hope to have at least a niche reserved

for themselves. But I would like to remember what I saw

from Westminster bridge...

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Letter to the Londoners

O Ye Londoners!

How are ye faring? Is the winter cold or is it still a long

way away or are you happy to have just a few snow flakes

only? I can not say how wayward winter can be. I

remember something I have heard "If winter comes, can

Spring be far behind?".

I can remember watching Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)

many winters ago. What a marvellous play that was! I still

have faint recollections of that book I read long years ago,

or maybe a film I saw in days gone by.

I remember the glitter and glamour of days spent,

shopping at Harrods with its four or five entrances. There

was so much to see and so much to buy (if you had

money). It was summer and choc-a-bloc with gay

shoppers. Arundathie had to set up body guards for me

and even for Sena (fearing we would get lost in the

crowd). I remember seeing Westminster Abbey where all

great Englishmen hope to have at least a niche reserved

for themselves. But I would like to remember what I saw

from Westminster bridge...

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“Earth hath not anything to show more fair,

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by a sight so

touching in its majesty,

Ships, towers, domes, temples and theatres lie

All open to the fields and the sky, all bright and glittering in

the smokeless air,

Dear god, the very houses seem asleep. “ (Wordsworth)

Congratulations Nilu Bilu! You are at BBC! What a

prestigious place! We are proud of my sweet Nilu. Like all

doctors of medicine going or aspiring to higher climbs, we

are proud of you my Menaka Medico. Sweet Menaka

Medico and Michael, these are times when life flows by

like a song and everything is really bright, happy and gay.

You have left Punchi eka here for us at least to glimpse of

while she shuttles to and from the Faculty of Law and India

and Macau. She just returned from an Indian debate or

what I do not know. We are o.k. over here. I of course am

full of aches and pains. A & P as his Lordship, Tissa, Lord of

the manor calls them. I suppose all I can do is (as Jesvyn

Seeya says) "grin and bear"... what else?

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Chapter 6

There is a little garden outside my room where I had

planted Bougainville flowers a long time ago. I don't think

those plants are there anymore. I can see them no more.

Every morning I can hear little birds and squirrels play in

my garden.

Come, Come Awake, the sun is rising

Your feet across the dews a path has made

Within the hedge the little birds twitter

The squirrel gambols in the sunlit glade

Come now O come, the temple bells are ringing

The sky is all aglow with golden fire

Wafted across the field is pirith chanting

The evening star comes up the eastern sky

Flying home to roost, no bird songs break the silence

Flying high in rank and file they quickly fade

A gentle silence, a gathering calm,

A peace over all pervades.

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Chapter 6

There is a little garden outside my room where I had

planted Bougainville flowers a long time ago. I don't think

those plants are there anymore. I can see them no more.

Every morning I can hear little birds and squirrels play in

my garden.

Come, Come Awake, the sun is rising

Your feet across the dews a path has made

Within the hedge the little birds twitter

The squirrel gambols in the sunlit glade

Come now O come, the temple bells are ringing

The sky is all aglow with golden fire

Wafted across the field is pirith chanting

The evening star comes up the eastern sky

Flying home to roost, no bird songs break the silence

Flying high in rank and file they quickly fade

A gentle silence, a gathering calm,

A peace over all pervades.

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Time moves slowly and days merge in to a hazy mass

called the past. Sometimes I lose track of night and day. It

doesn't really matter anymore. With my loss of vision and

care routines, it makes little difference to my life. Time has

become intuitive rather than something to be read off a

clock.

I just want to let go... The past trails like a veil of memories

behind me…a reverie...

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Time moves slowly and days merge in to a hazy mass

called the past. Sometimes I lose track of night and day. It

doesn't really matter anymore. With my loss of vision and

care routines, it makes little difference to my life. Time has

become intuitive rather than something to be read off a

clock.

I just want to let go... The past trails like a veil of memories

behind me…a reverie...

Thank You Amma and Thaththa…...

Amma, you and thaththa by the lives you led showed us in no uncertain

way how a good Buddhist, a good human being should live their lives .We

were so fortunate to be born to good parents like the two of you. The only

way we can thank you is by promising to continue living the principled good

lives the two of you led and encourage our families to uphold these values

too.

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Start of an Independent Life

My Mother & Father

My School Days - St. Thomas Matara

With Friends @ Galle ConventDSW @ Kalutara Moment of Glory

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Start of an Independent Life

My Mother & Father

My School Days - St. Thomas Matara

With Friends @ Galle ConventDSW @ Kalutara Moment of Glory

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Happy Times - Good Old Days

@ Sorana Estate Horana

River Baths

Pirith @ Ramagiri Panadura

@ Ramagiri Panadura

@ Ramagiri Panadura

Kataragama Trip Aug 54

Happy Times - More Recent Times

@ Hena Road Mt. Lavinia

Celebrating the 60th Wedding Annivasary

Family Picnic @ Bolgoda Lake

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Happy Times - More Recent Times

@ Hena Road Mt. Lavinia

Celebrating the 60th Wedding Annivasary

Family Picnic @ Bolgoda Lake

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Some of The People I Love

Aunty EvyMR & My Family

Chandra’s Wedding

Aunty Derbie

Nellie’s Wedding

Mother In her Young DaysWith lily & Son