Reflections on birth
An octogenarian reflecting on birth would seem strange and amazing to many for he is closer to death than birth. Besides in an age of fading memory where even familiar place names and names of friends and associates are sometimes forgotten on and off how could an octogenarian recollect his birth? It is a case of his imagination running wild, you would say. Nevertheless, old men are good story tellers and there may be a grain of truth in their reflections.
In salubrious climes
A month after sitting for the Degree examination in the University, it was in June 1961 that I got an appointment as a teacher in a Government school. The appointment was to the Deniyaya Central School, one of those established in 1945 by late C W W Kannangara, Father of free education in Sri Lanka. The letter of appointment came by post. Then there were no shameless politicians who would try to show that a public service appointment was something given by their grace by handing them over personally.
Death in the family
Death is a strange phenomenon. It affects the living more than the dead. While the departing soul could rest in peace those left on earth have to face the consequences. Sometimes a death may change the entire future of a family.
At the age of seven plus I lost my father. It happened all of a sudden. It took me some time to realize what had happened. The mere news of his death did not disturb me. I was unaware of what it meant.
Cotta Road days
The residences of two pioneers of the Left Movement in Sri Lanka , Dr. S A Wickremesinghe and Dr. N M Perera were situated along Cotta Road, Colombo. Further, the headquarters of the Communist Party of Sri Lanka also is by the side of this short but famous road. Today the stretch of it from the Borella junction to the Ayurvedha junction has been re-named Dr. N M Perera Mawatha. In the meantime, Cotta Road has become a synonym for the Communist Party that stands there.
The long walk to school
The real ordeal came when I had to enter a new school after finishing primary education. The first choice was Hikkaduwa Central College which my sister attended. Though I got through the Admission Test I could not enter college as we failed to submit the birth certificate in time. Getting a birth certificate was a hassle for any villager who did not have anyone known at the kachcheri or who had no means to oil the palms of relevant officials.
