By Dr Nihal D Amerasekera
Jeevaka was the most celebrated doctor in
India during Buddha's time. He was Buddha’s physician. Hence Jeewaka is a great
name for a Buddhist Medical Hostel.
Spiritually, all through my adult life I
have been a drifter and a nomad, born under a wandering star. I first saw life
as a Christian in a family not too enamoured with the rights and rituals of
religion. Thus I was allowed to roam free to choose my own path and philosophy.
I began to question the presence of a supreme creator reading the origin of the
species by Charles Darwin as a teenager. As a young medical student when I saw the
suffering of the masses in the General Hospital Colombo, that was the final straw. This nomadic drift should not be
confused with a lack of respect for values and beliefs. Despite all this I have
the greatest respect for Christianity for teaching me how to lead a good and
righteous life as a kid growing up in a rapidly changing world. Even now when I
sit in a Church it gives me a warm feeling of love for humanity as we all walk
this long and tortuous journey we call life.
Living at Wattala I travelled daily from
Hunupitiya to Maradana by train with a happy band of medical students. The
journey during the height of the rush hour had standing room only. It was both tiring
and time consuming. Chatting with Razaque Ahmat, Bernard Randeniya, Ananda
Cooray and Ananda Perera made the journey bearable. In my wisdom I convinced my
parents I should move to the Jeewaka Buddhist Hostel in Turrett Road to allow
more time for study. They agreed too easily. There was then no formal
application process for Jeewaka. I made my intentions clear to my friend RN de
S Amarasekera, then an honourable senior. I think at the time there were 20
students at Jeewaka. My informal
application was rejected out of hand as they didn’t want Christians. Although
dejected and disappointed I never gave
up hope. I explained to RN de S my complex spiritual existence and my
philosophy being closer to Buddhism than any other. I am grateful he had the belief
and the courage to accept my word. He fought hard with the Jeewaka hierarchy to
allow my entry into the brotherhood.
There was a resurgence of our heritage and
values after independence from British Rule. A small band of Buddhist Medical
Students, circa 1962, approached Prof RP Jayawardene to provide a safe haven for Buddhist students. Unlike at
Peradeniya students from far away who joined the faculty had no hostel
accommodation. With determination, tenacity and perseverance their dream was
realised and the Jeewaka Buddhist hostel was born. The good Prof became its
first Warden. The pioneers who founded Jeewaka were:
Dr L U Abeyasiri, Plastic Surgeon, UK
Dr R N D S Amarasekera, GP, UK
Dr D P Athukorale, Consultant Cardiologist,
Sri Lanka
Dr Hema De Silva, USA
Dr L C De Silva
Dr Ubhaya Dias,, New Zealand (Passed away
2002)
Dr Titus Dissanayake, Consultant
Geriatrician, UK
Mr Sumith Fonseka, Thorasic Surgeon, UK
Dr G R W Godakumbura, Consultant Surgeon,
Sri Lanka
Dr H P Gunawardena, Psychiatrist, USA
Dr D V J Harischandra, Consultant
Psychiatrist, Sri Lanka
Dr Herath, USA
Dr A K C A Jayasena, UK
Dr Karunapala, Consultant Psychiatrist, UK
Dr Bernie Peris, Former GP, UK (Passed away
1999)
Dr Rajapakse, Sri Lanka (Died ....)
Dr Ajith Silva, Radiologist, Australia
We salute them. The hostel was housed in a
large two storey building opposite the Liberty Cinema. A short distance away
was the busy Galle Road and the deep blue waters of the Indian ocean.
When I stepped into the house I felt at
home instantly. The hostellers were a friendly bunch. To my good fortune LPJM
Wickramasinghe, Sanath de Tissera and Upali Wijeratne
joined the hostel about the same time. Now our
batch showed a strong presence and we became a force to reckon with. The hostel
was managed by the students and for the students. There was a President ,
Secretary, Treasurer and a Committee. We took turns to place food on the table. This was an onerous
task given over to the “buthmaster”. We took on the burden for a week at a time.
Here we learnt to provide a good
balanced diet within the confines of the budget. Mealtimes were a minor ordeal
for the hapless “buthmaster”. Criticisms, comments and acerbic remarks flowed
freely. At times this required a thick skin and broad shoulders. Much of it was
done in jest with occasional hurtful comments done in the hope that high standards will be
maintained. Despite our youthful exuberance, civility and good manners
prevailed. We employed a young male cook who gave us excellent food.
Dinner time was a welcome break from the
books. There was an unwritten rule that dinner was served at eight and all were
expected to take part. This was a time for some light banter and a time to
bond. Many had stories to tell and anecdotes to relate. Medical College was a
hotbed of gossip and there was never a dull moment. We had our own court jester
to lighten the proceedings. He said: a
pharmacist mistakenly put some GUANETHIDINE tablets into a bottle of BENDROFLUMETHIAZIDE.
The THIAZIDE was greatly offended and said to GUANETHIDINE “I say you are very
ISMELIN”. After dinner an eerie silence descended
on Jeewaka which extended far beyond midnight. This was prime study time. The
silence was only broken by an occasional whisper, a silly giggle or a noisy
snore of a lad overcome by tiredness.
The Buddhist hostel was no mini ashram or a
monastery. Non of us were vegetarians. It was a lively house of boisterous
medical students with the same desires and passions as anywhere else in the
world. No alcohol was allowed within the premises. Jeewaka wasn’t a bohemian
playground. Life was serene but never boring. Those of us who cared for a drink visited the
bars and taverns at weekends, but discreetly, and learnt to behave ourselves
when we got back. There was a strict hierarchy based on seniority and a strong
sense of mutual respect. We all cared for each other and shared our books and
knowledge. The camaraderie and companionship brought us together. There was a
certain enduring calmness that existed at Jeewaka very different from the other
medical and university boarding houses we all know.
Whenever we returned from our trips home it
was a tradition to bring some sweets biscuits or cakes to share with our
friends. There was a guy from Galle called “K” who didn’t like the idea of
sharing. He brought eats which he hid in his suitcase and brought king coconuts
which he kept under his bed. Once a guy brought a long LP needle and 50 ml
syringe and pierced the eye of the king coconuts and syringed out the fluid
until all of them were bled dry. Later we heard ‘K’ cursing the vendor who sold him the dud
coconuts.
Saturday night was music night. Mohanlal
Fernando is a fine musician and played his piano accordion with Esiri
Karunaratne on the drums and we all joined in singing the favourite songs of
CTF, Chitra and Somapala and Sunil Santha etc. This was most enjoyable and we
often looked forward to Saturday nights to exercise our vocal cords.
Blackie the black mongrel was our mascot. He
was calm as the morning sunrise and never barked but had some disgusting habits lacking the finesse and the polish of some of
the dogs I know. Despite this Blackie was treated like royalty being a pioneer
member of the institution and a close associate of its founder members. I think
he knew it and took advantage of his prestigious position showing off his
filthy habits, much to my utter chagrin.
I must re-tell a story I have published on
this blog before. We had great fun at Jeewaka which was a happy place. We
examined patients late into the evening and were returning back to the hostel,
cycling along Turret Road. My borrowed
bike had a lamp but Cunningham’s cycle
didn’t, but he carried a torch (used to test the pupils). A policeman stopped
us and asked Cunningham about his cycle lamp.
He then showed him his torch. The Policeman said” The lamp must be
attached to the cycle”. Cunningham in his cheek said “ The torch is attached to
me and I am attached to the cycle. So the torch is attached to the cycle.”
Those were the days when a doctor could do no wrong. Cunningham displayed his
stethoscope relating his exploits in the emergency room. The Cop listened with
bated breath. Cunningham was let off with a gentle caution.
There was an annual hostel trip when we
travelled the country in a coach visiting old Jeewakites who treated us most
lavishly. Music and fun went with us wherever we went. Jeewaka organised an
annual marathon. We all took part pounding the roads of colpetty. After much
practice and panting, on the day Upali Wijeratne won the marathon. There was
the Jeewaka dinner and dance when the present hostellers invite the past
Jeewakites and their partners. It is a magical evening when we all dress up for
the occasion and dance to the music meeting old friends at dinner.
With all the fun and the frolic which was
endemic at Jeewaka, poring over books remained our main pastime. The intensity
of the friendships and the genuine goodwill between us helped enormously to
tide over the stress and strain of constant study. During those months Sanath
de Tissera was my constant companion. His calm demeanour and Buddhist
philosophy radiated wisdom essential for a peaceful and fulfilling existence.
After a full days study we often walked to the sea to watch the waves roll in
while the sun went down. He talked about Abhidhamma and the teachings of the
Buddha and I was mesmerised by its relevance to real life. Once after a
thoughtful discussion we turned back to return home. I was still deep in
thought. The noise of the wind and the crashing waves drowned the roar of the
oncoming train. As I was about to step on the rail track Sanath pulled me back
with an almighty heave saving me from certain death. This event changed my life
forever. Since then I have always considered life as unpredictable and
uncertain at any age. Life is as fickle as a dew drop at the tip of a blade of
grass swaying in the crisp morning sun.
Exams came and went and soon it was time to
say goodbye to a life I knew and loved. As I reflect on my life now, those 18
months I spent at Jeewaka were some of the best. Having lived together I became
incredibly close to the students. I still remember them, as I saw them last,
with their young impish faces and mischievous smiles. It is sad when I think
that many of them I never saw again.
I dedicate these memoirs to my parents, who
provided the encouragement and paid the bills and to fellow Jeewakites who by
their friendship enriched my life. I am alive today but for the mindfulness of
Sanath de Tissera. Sitting on the rocks at the Colpetty beach seeing the sun go
down is an image I will never forget.
Jeewaka Buddhist Hostel has survived the
turbulence of a multitude of political upheavals, the turmoil of an economic
downturn and the anguish of an uncertain future. They had great difficulty
finding a permanent home. After Turrett Road they made several moves before finding
a home at 124, EW Perera Mawatha Colombo 10. The present Warden Prof Harsha
Seneviratne has helped Jeewaka remain afloat despite all its perils. To me personally
Jeewaka has lived up to its principles. Long may its ideals and values survive.
