My wish and Hope for Sri Lanka. Mahendra Gonsalkorale

My wish and hope for Sri Lanka

Mahendra Gonsalkorale

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You wanted change
You needed change
You demanded change
You have this change

Fed up with dishonesty and greed
Fed up with nepotism and corruption
Fed up with lies and deception
Fed up with bullying and chauvinism

You now have your chance
Your new rulers can only succeed
If you change too
it is a two-way street

Temper your expectations
Change takes time, be patient
Embrace a New Culture
One Nation, One Country
With a proud multicultural heritage
Believe in Humanity and universal love
Cast aside Divisions and unite as one family

Some snippets from the past...ND Amerasekera

Some snippets from the past ….. lest I forget.

Nihal D Amerasekera 

The assertion that “Laughter is the best medicine” has never sounded more true as age has caught up with us with all its vagaries. When APR, lack of energy and health issues overwhelm us, Laughter must have a magical ingredient not found in pills and portions. I have managed to rake up some incidents and anecdotes that have raised a smile for me over the years. These have remained in the archives of my memory over many years. I may even have shared some of them with you in the distant past.

"When I was an intern in Kurunegala, the chef was an elderly man who had severe asthma. No one knew his real name. We all called him Rhonchi Rajapakse. His cooking left a lot to be desired and reminded me of the chemistry book description of oxygen - tasteless, colourless and odourless. Rhonchi Rajapaksa  kept telling us he was the best cook in the world. Fresh from the MBBS we were full of text book medicine. The consensus of opinion was that Rhonchi Rajapaksa had  delusions of grandeur of GPI due to tertiary syphilis. Local gossip and innuendo told us he frequented brothels in his spare time. We all got to know the guy well. He was never sober after he completed the evenings work for us. Rhonchi partook generously in the illegal drink, kassippu, that was doled out at the top of the road, in the funeral parlour. Rhonchi sat with the mourners and wept with them and became a popular figure locally".

When I was an intern in Kurunegala I was designated to cover Eye and ENT wards at night. My knowledge of those specialities could hardly fill a postage stamp. 

"Once in the Eye ward I noticed the letters P L on the BHT of every patient. I asked the nurse what it stood for. She said “Plash Light”. Although unconvinced, I accepted this. Next day I asked the Ophthalmic registrar and he said PL stood for Perception of Light. The nurse wasn’t too far wrong. In those days, getting the English wrong was a good reason to laugh. I told and retold this on numerous occasions in the HO’s quarters and we laughed a lot.  I remember when we asked Rhonchi Rajapaksa what was there for dinner he said “Presh Piss”.  Perhaps he meant ‘fresh fish’". 

On looking back in my early years in England, I too got my English language wrong on many occasions but the English men  and women were far too polite to laugh at my mistakes. Their murky smile said it all.

"I worked in the OPD at Kurunegala in the late 1960’s. Sunday was the ‘Pola day”. This was held close to the hospital. People from far and wide converged on the Pola. It was their habit to drop in at the hospital for a bit of free medicine. The patients’ waiting room was then heaving with people. When weaving my way through the crowd I had developed a form of reflex apnoea. When on duty I had the great propensity to attract hypochondriacs. One old man related a catalogue of symptoms. On examination he had no physical signs to support  any of his myriad of complaints. He insisted on some medicine and I prescribed him a bottle of ubiquitous “Sodi Sal”, the panacea for all ills in those distant days.  On the way out he said loudly “I get an ear ache too”. I told him to apply the liquid on his ear twice a day."

Night duty as the MO/OPD could be a nightmare. It was rarely that I had a sound sleep from dusk to dawn. Mostly, I drew the short straw and suffered. When I heard the noise of the ambulance I could feel my pulse rise. The noise or the wailing that followed gave me an indication of its urgency and the severity. 

"One soggy day a family arrived quite distraught. It transpired that the lady had a prolapsed uterus and it was bitten by a dog. I considered this an emergency and did the needful. It was when I returned to the quarters and related the incident my mates tried to work out how this catastrophic event could have happened. I am sure we now have the wisdom and the generosity to pardon the crass humour of the young medics and those rough edges of youth. After all we too were young bucks, once".

It seemed the flushing toilets had not reached the dry zone yet. The quarters had bucket latrines and the daily ablutions were a tricky business. Those at the back of the queue in the morning had to endure the worst. Sirry Cassim, now a retired senior Ophthalmic Surgeon in Colombo, had his own answer to the problem. He had a generous stock of Bulgarian cigars (Bulgarian bog punt) which produced acrid fumes to counteract the other nasty odours. The non-smokers had to make a quick exit cyanosed and blue poisoned by the fumes and driven by the stench.

"In those halcyon days in the OPD, Mist Sodi Sal and Carminative formed the bedrock of our treatment. Aspirin tablets were doled out like Smarties. Once whilst returning for lunch there was an almighty commotion by the gynae ward. A man in national dress was shaking his fist unable to contain his anger and one of my doctor colleagues was calmly explaining to no avail. It transpired the man was accusing the houseman of stitching the episiotomy too tight. The doctor finally asked the man to mind his own business, which left him rather speechless".

It was a great privilege of my life to live in Wattala in 1962/63 and develop a friendship with Bernard Randeniya and Razaque Ahamat. We studied anatomy together. This was an enclave of a certain greatly respected faith. In those days they conducted their funerals with a brass band following the cortege. Whilst studying we often heard them walk past. One day we heard them play a popular song and we soon recognised it was “He’s a jolly good fellow”.  What a lovely send-off to paradise!!

"Bernard always had a fund of amusing anecdotes. When we studied at his house there was a rather large dog who came to sniff us. When I asked him if he was a dog lover he said he was not, but the dog was bought to look after the poultry pen to prevent thieves stealing them. Once when I went to Bernard’s house he said thieves took away the poultry. I asked him about the dog. He said the dog was fast asleep and he had to wake him up in the morning".

On entry to the faculty, we all had medical examinations. 

"When Bernard went for his he was asked to remove his trousers. When the doctor squeezed his scrotum, perhaps looking for hydrocoeles and hernias Bernard simply couldn’t stop laughing. This irritated the doctor so much he virtually ‘kicked Bernard’ out of the room. For several weeks Bernard thought he may get sacked from the Faculty".

My boss in General Medicine in London had a tremendous sense of humour. This he shared with us in the pub opposite the hospital, after a busy day. 

"A surgeon on his ward rounds came to a patient with severe diabetes. He told the patient “ I have some good news and some bad news. To give the bad news first We have to amputate both your legs”.  The news hit him like a bolt of lightening.  The  surgeon waited a few minutes until the patient composed himself.  Then the surgeon went on  “The good news is that the patient in the next bed is willing to buy your shoes”.

This goes back to the days of old Ceylon when Policemen wore Khaki shorts with knee high socks and a funny khaki hat with a turned up edge.  It was the rule that to ride a cycle at night a light was required.  

"A man was cycling along Baseline Rd as the sky suddenly darkened just before the rain. He didn’t have a cycle lamp. A Policeman stopped him. The cyclist spoke in English saying “I didn’t anticipate the rain”. The policeman  was rather non-plussed as he did understand the turn of phrase. He blurted  “anty – ta- saneepa naththang - yanna” and let the man go on his way". 

I have selected these humorous clips which are beyond reproach - even to medics of my era. There are many others in store that require broad shoulders and a thick skin hence they have been excluded to avoid causing any distress.

I sincerely hope “Laughter is the best medicine” will continue to ring true as we march on to the naughty nineties.

A tribute to Indra Anandasabapathy- ND Amarasekera

 After Fifty Years - A tribute to Indra Anandasabapathy

by Nihal D. Amerasekera

Indra and I hail from that great institution on Baseline Road in full view of the Welikada Prison. We were berated by our teachers that if we don’t tread the straight and narrow path we may end-up in the ‘hotel’ in front of our gates. Despite the generous offer of free food and lodging in the ‘hotel’ opposite we managed to find gainful employment in a more salubrious place not too far from the noise and grime of Punchi Borella. Perhaps we missed out meeting some of the illustrious and colourful characters that walked the corridors of that ‘infamous hotel’.

Indra was always a clever, quiet and studious guy who avoided the rough and tumble. Despite the dirt and stains of the laboratory practicals, he managed to always be dressed immaculately in a brilliant white unstained shirt and trouser. The creases on his well ironed trousers were strikingly sharp and could slice a loaf of bread. He maintained this sartorial elegance all through medical school. Who could forget his skill in identifying the carpal bones while they were still in his pocket!!

We have kept in touch on ‘Facetime’ over the years seeing ourselves grow older and wiser. Sometimes from Florida and at other times from his house in Staten Island, we have talked in all weathers. It is such a pleasure to speak with Indra. I was thrilled when he said he was visiting London and we decided to meet in Busaba off Oxford Street. It was indeed a great pleasure to meet Rani for the first time. In the past I only knew her as the creator of those wonderful paintings and the passionate gardener who maintained an immaculate garden, indoors and out. They have a tremendous love of nature and wildlife. Rani’s kindness and pleasant friendly manner made it a wonderful meeting. We then proceeded to an Italian Coffee shop when Indra and Rani had Devonshire Scones with clotted cream with the coffee. The conversation continued from international politics, to Sri Lankan cricket and our lives in retirement.

Indra still maintains the careful precision of an anaesthetist waiting to wake us up. Although measured, Indra is a fine raconteur and helped us enormously to reconnect and recall those great years at school and the faculty. It was amazing that we remembered so much despite the years. The enchantment of those years in old Ceylon still seems to haunt us.

Both Rani and Indra are kind and considerate and it was hard for me to say goodbye. The tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged them. As I write this note, their generous invitation to visit their home still rings in my ears. What struck me most about Rani and Indra was their amiable honesty and their modesty despite their many achievements. I wish them both good health and happiness in the months and years to come. May we have the good fortune to meet again.

Curiosity...... Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale

Curiosity......

Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale

There are many views on the qualities and attitudes that help you to become a good Doctor, such as empathy, skill, a good knowledge base, patience, the ability to work in a Team, modesty, honesty and many more. These qualities are desirable for any aspiring medical student who wants to become a good doctor. I suggest that curiosity is another useful quality.

There are many definitions of curiosity.

The urge you feel to know more about something or someone.

The desire to learn or know about anything.

Curiosity is associated with a strong desire to know about things, from how a machine works to why people fall ill, from why there are storms to how we make decisions on probability.

And there are many aphorisms associated with curiosity. To cite a few.

"Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning": William Arthur Ward, an American author, said this in the 1800s.

"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious”: Albert Einstein.

“Be curious. Read widely. Try new things. What people call intelligence boils down to curiosity.” Aaron Swartz. American computer programmer associated with the website Reddit.

“If you can let go of passion and follow your curiosity, your curiosity just might lead you to your passion.” Elizabeth Gilbert. American Journalist and Author.

“The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing.”: Albert Einstein

Curiosity leads to asking questions and seeking answers through reading and other information-seeking methods, leading to understanding and wisdom (rather than mere knowledge accumulation).

I remember very fondly one of my teachers at Royal College, Mr Arulanandan, who repeatedly told us, “Always ask the question - why?” At home, I drove my mother insane by repeatedly asking her why. In desperation, she used to say, “Because I say so!”

Looking back on my days as a medical student in Colombo, I had this persistent desire to ask the question, "Why?" When you study a subject, you need more than simply reading the text to give you a critical appraisal of the subject, and that is why I love books that pose questions at the end of each chapter that you need to answer before you move on to the next one.

When dealing with a patient with a problem, I was intensely curious to discover why he had those particular symptoms and try to explain them. Without curiosity, I doubt whether I would have acquired helpful knowledge. Neurology was especially appealing in commencing a path of discovery with a question followed by a step-by-step dissection of the problem, leading to what more data is needed and, finally, an answer. This, of course, applies to any branch of medicine.

Doctors accumulate vast amounts of data. This data has to be connected and relevant if they want to turn knowledge into wisdom. Curiosity helps in this process, and we develop internal classifications and connections that organise data and help us retrieve it productively.

Some of our teachers who encouraged us to be curious were Dr  Wickrema Wijenaike, Dr Carlo Fonseka, Dr Oliver Pieris, Dr Lester Jayawardena, Dr George Ratnavale and many more.

Curiosity makes learning fun! Food tastes so much better if you are hungry!

If our forefathers had not been curious, I doubt we would have achieved so much in human history.

I hope I have said enough to provoke responses from the Blog's readers. Let us have a healthy discussion. I don’t believe that “curiosity killed the cat”!

I am just curious!

FOOTNOTE added on 26th October 2024

Thanks to all the contributors. To all readers of this post, please read the insightful comments to gain maximum benefit. Finally, how many are curious to know why I am also called "Speedy"?

Dr P R Wickramanayake (17.01.1932 - 30.07.2024)

Dr P R (Ranji) WIKRAMANAYAKE (17 01. 1932 – 30.07.2024)

From  the Sunday Island. 6th October 2024.

Kindly sent by Kumar Gunawardane

A few weeks ago, the Sri Lankan community in Australia lost one its most distinguished sons, Dr P R Wkiramanayake, known as Ranji to his friends, an accomplished and highly regarded endocrinologist. He was 92 years of age and hailed from a distinguished family with its origins in Galle. The ancestry and genealogy of the family is well recorded in the book “Galle as quiet as asleep “(1993) by Norah Roberts.

The elder son of E.G. Wikramanayake, Queens Counsel, Ranji was born into the lap of luxury. Like his father before him, Ranji attended St Thomas College, Mount Lavinia from where he entered the Ceylon Medical School, and from where he graduated, and proceeded to the UK for Post graduate work. On his return from London with the MRCP he was appointed consultant physician at the Out Patients Department of the General Hospital, Colombo.

He soon was interested in the study of diabetes and read a paper at the Plenary Scientific Sessions of the Ceylon college of Physicians, 30 years ago. After serving a Nuffield Fellowship in the UK, he moved to Australia where he worked as Diabetologist at the Prince Edward Hospital.

It was through my close friend and former schoolmate Dr Medduma Kappagoda that I first met Ranji who Kappa brought home one day about 30 years ago, in order to assess my blood sugar. That visit was the foundation on which a strong friendship developed and through which I had the great pleasure of enjoying a dear friendship with his brother Nimal later after I moved to Melbourne.

Ranji lived in the affluent and desirable seaside suburb of Vaucluse and his great hobby was horse racing. His father Guy, a leading Queens Counsel, had owned a string of racehorses in Colombo and was the winner of several trophies when racing was the pastime of “kings and squires”. Ranji too owned at least a couple of thoroughbreds in Sydney whose activities kept him occupied during his leisure.

Ranji married Amara Weerasooria daughter of the late Dr and Mrs SE Weerasooria. Amara was Head Girl of Visakha Vidyalaya and an outstanding netball and tennis player. There combined qualities had to produce extra ordinary children. Their only son Priyan is a popular gastro surgeon in. Bowral, and the two daughters Roshanara a lawyer and Shemara is a highly successful leader in the corporate world of Australia.

It was during the course of last year, and earlier this year that I had close interaction with Ranji. It was during this period that Nimal fell ill and passed away about three months ago. Ranji was highly solicitous of Nimal’s welfare, and chose to convey his medical advice to Nimal through me. Ranji the elder brother was generally of a quiet and unruffled disposition. When Nimal was hospitalized he chose not to disturb him, and instead telephoned me for progress reports. About six weeks ago he rang me from his hospital bed in Prince Edward Hospital where he worked previously, to say in a feeble voice that his heart is failing on him. He left this world a few days later.

Ranji Wikramanayake was of a rare breed, sadly lacking in the old country today. Dedicated to his profession, and guide and guardian to his family, he was honest, hardworking and generous. He was a founder member of the. Ceylon College of Physicians, and a member of the Ceylon Society of Australia for many years until his demise.

A little known aspect of his generosity was his donation of five million rupees in January 2016 to the Ceylon College of Physicians, the interest earned from the donation to be awarded annually to the best research paper on diabetes. Ranji was to personally present the donation, but on their way to Colombo, his wife Amara fell ill and had to return to Australia. He was not a man for excuses and made sure that the gift was made on his behalf by his close friend Tilak de Zoysa. Ranji Wikramanayake certainly earned his rest, may he now rest in peace.

Hugh Karunanayake

Remembering dear batchmate Zita Perera Subasinghe- Two years

Remembering dear batchmate Zita Perera Subasinghe- Two years 

Tempus fugit. It is two years since we lost our dear friend and colleague, Zita. This beautiful post was sent by her son Rohan.

More paintings by Nihal D Amerasekera

More paintings by Nihal D Amerasekera

It gives me great pleasure to post another batch of Nihal’s beautiful paintings with brief and helpful descriptions.

Sigiriya, the citadel in the sky

It seems the area around Sigiriya was inhabited since prehistoric times. There is evidence that Buddhist monks lived in caves around Sigiriya since the 3rd century BC.

The intriguing historical story of Sigiriya is well known to every Sri Lankan. I first learnt about it from the primary school history book written by S.F De Silva who was then the Director of Education.  The rock fortress was established in 477 AD by King Kashyapa. This was after a coup, treachery and patricide. Kashyapa seized the throne from his father, King Dhatusena. The rightful heir was his half-brother Moggalana who then fled to India. Moggalana finally returned and fought a war to get his Kingdom back.  Kashyapa unwilling to surrender, took his own life.

After the reign of Moggalana, the Sigiriya complex became a Buddhist monastery.

I worked my internship in Kurunegala and lived there for a further 2 years in close proximity to this ancient rock fortress. I remember a trip that the interns organised to visit Sigiriya and recall Sirry Cassim being a part of that group.

As it is so well known worldwide for its mesmerizingly beautiful Sigiriya frescoes, tourists flock here in their thousands. To provide accommodation for tourists many posh hotels have sprung up in the area. Sigiriya is now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Walking in the fortress amidst the ruins and visiting the frescoes I always felt a closeness to the past and the lives of the ordinary people that lived there. The simple folk must have been hugely inspired by the intense religious fervour of the time. I still recall most warmly the helpful kindness and the generosity of the rural folk of the area when I visited them in the late 1960’s.

 Table Mountain in Capetown

Table mountain is a tall awe-inspiring landmark in Cape Town that is an iconic backdrop to this beautiful city by the sea. It is 1085 metres high and has a length of 3 kilometres at the top. As its name implies this mountain has a unique plateau at the top. Occasionally  a thin band of clouds seem to sit on the plateau and people call this the “Table Cloth”.

On my trip to the city, I took the cable car to the top. From the summit there is a panoramic view of Cape Town and the wilderness around. The mountain is within a national park and is said to have its own unique fauna and flora.

It is a World Heritage Site. The local people consider the mountain as a spiritual place and a symbol of their heritage.

Newlands Cricket Ground in Cape Town has been described as one of the most beautiful cricket grounds in the World. As a cricket lover I enjoyed visiting Newlands. At the time there was a game in progress. I watched the match with stunning views of the Table mountain in the background. This is something I will never ever forget.

 Uluru (Ayers) rock in Central Australia

This is a World Heritage listed icon in the Northern Territory of Australia, 450 miles from Alice Springs. This monolith is 348m high and 550 million years old. For the local Aboriginal people this has a special religious and cultural significance. I was immensely fortunate to visit the rock in the evening on a clear day in March 2009. The changing colours of the rock at sunset from ochre brown to deep orange and intense red is breathtakingly beautiful. These colour changes are seen in the reverse at sunrise. Being there at night is an awesome and magical experience never to be forgotten as one can feel the spirituality of the place.

I recall that many of us were keen to climb the rock . Our travel guide mentioned that it is a sacred rock and the local people preferred if we did not climb, and so we didn’t.  The Aboriginal people believe that their ancestors reside in the rock and in the surrounding area. Instead I walked around Uluru in the fading light of a fine evening. There were secluded spots to spend time in solitude. I did feel a deep sense of attachment to the place. It is a magical experience to see the stars drift inexorably in the sky with all its majesty. Although I schooled in the big city my roots are in the rustic part of Kegalle where my ancestors lived and died. The peace and tranquillity of the place  always invoked a certain calmness that transported  me to be close to those who lived their before me. It is a feeling I find hard to describe.

Much of the flora and fauna are unique to Uluru. I still have fond memories of our visit to the Uluru and Alice Springs.

 Utuwankanda, Saradiel’s hideout

My ancestral home was far away from the noise and grime of the big city, in a secluded place in Kegalle. From one of our rear windows, we could see the elegance and majesty of Utuwankanda in the distance towards Mawanella. Although I am now separated by huge swathes of land and oceans from home, I still dream of those years and recall with much nostalgia my happy childhood.

Utuwankanda and its most famous inhabitant, Saradiel,  have now entered the folklore and legends in Sri Lankan history.

Saradiel was born in 1835. For some, he remains a Robin Hood like hero. Locals believe he stole from the rich and distributed to the poor. To others he was a highwayman, bandit and an outlaw. Allegedly he had committed murder too. Some historians believe Saradiel intentions were to start an insurgency against British Rule and he was not just a common criminal. Saradiel was also famous for his prison escapes. Some locals were convinced he had special superhuman powers.

When Saradiel was finally apprehended he was tried in the Kandy Courts. The jury found him guilty. He was sentenced to death along with his fellow bandit Marrikar. They were both sent to the gallows in May 1864.

Saradiel’s legend lives on. Now there is a Saradiel Village with paddy fields surrounded by green mountains. The mountain is a steep and tiring climb to the top through rubber plantations. On the top are craggy rocks that have formed into caves. Many tourists travel to the top of Utuwankanda and explore these caves. The summit can be wet, windy and cold with many leeches for company. It has to be said, this can be a perilous journey to the top and need extreme care.

The view of the distant Utuwankanda that I saw as a child is still deeply imprinted in my psyche. This I will keep and cherish until the end of my days.