Wherever you maybe,
The School of your
boyhood,
The School by the
Sea.
And you’ll always remember
The friendships fine
and free,
That you made at
S.Thomas
The School by the
Sea.“
Rev Cannon
Roy.H.Bowyer Yin
In the silence and solitude of the curfew as the long days
meld into longer nights, I begin to write. And what better than the story of two chums who travelled from distant
climes to their old school. Harischandra Boralessa (Bora) and Kumar Gunawardane
(me) have vivid recollections, mostly
happy but some poignant of our schooldays. And,we felt that it
would be
good to go back to our roots; be caressed once again by the gentle sea
breezes, tread the good earth of the playing fields, walk the corridors
of the Big
School, sit in the Big Hall, in sight of the portraits of the great and
the
good sons of the School, kneel in
contemplation in the chapel of configuration of Christ and enjoy the magnificent
mural of David Paynter.
THE LOWER SCHOOL.
I joined STC in Form1 as the the second standard class was
known. Selection was by examinationand both my brother and I passed at our
first attempts.We were coached in English, General Knowledge and other motley subjects by an aunt who
lived with us. She was single and loved us, my brother perhaps more than me. To
her, my sibling, he who was conceived after seven years of marriage, was the
child gifted by the gods.(Deviyo Dunnna Putha) Her name was Ethel Maud
Abeysekare, and to our everlasting shame and contrition, we used to call her,
behind her back Ethel Moda or Ethel the Silly Abeysekara.
I still recall the trepidation, I felt on that first day ,”
creeping like a snail”clinging tightly to my aunt till she delivered me to the
class mistress Dora Janz. Happily she was a benign, motherly lady and we very
quickly grew fond of her, and became good pupils attentive and quiet.!!
Our class rooms were housed in a World War 2 building the
NAFFI (Navy, Army and Air Force Institute). It had a roof thatched with coconut
fronds.Thus was born the Royalist doggerel
“in the village school of St. Thomas' fronds of coconut are stuck here there
and everywhere; also not one of their chair legs is unbroken “We, sadly didn’t
have an appropriate rejoinder.
Of more interest to us little Thomians was the elevated stage
at one end of the building. It
roofed a hollow cavern sepulchral with
little or no light. Entry was forbidden, but that didn’t stop us from playing
hide and seek and other innocent games there.
The NAFFI was next to to the office building which was
appropriately named the the Thalassa (a girl’s name ,meaning the sea in
Classical Greek). The rail tracks like giant caterpillars hugged the western
boundary of the park.
The
lower school was in the eastern boundary fronted by a
couple of large Domba trees. In the southern end was the tuck shop a
single
storey nondescript building with a broad verandah which doubled as the
sports pavilion. All
these encircled our playing field the blessed Big Club.We usually had
our lunch
sent from home and we ate it there under the watchful eye of our
carer. Occasionally, we had the tuck shop lunch of mouth watering,
string hoppers, pol sambol and beef curry. All for twenty cents. For
afters we had a scoop of ice
cream or a meringue kiss. A few boys got much pleasure saying to the
tuck shop
girl “ miss give me a kiss”.
At the beginning of the
day, we had assembly presided over by the headmaster Rev Barnabas.An
imposing figure in a flowing cassock he was quite liberal with the cane and a
firm believer in the adage spare the rod and spoil the child. Some of his
victims had the last laugh by composing lewd ‘couplets. One of the printable
ones is a parody on “Tiger tiger burning bright. The next line was changed to
Barnige p... dynamite !!!I I must emphasise that we simply inherited these and
my class never innovated them.
He could be jovial and also loved to sing. The proceedings of
the assembly ended with both English and Sinhala songs. The perennial favourites
were “Old McDonald had a farm" and "My Bonnie lies over the ocean” We knew all
the lyrics.This stood me in good stead when I was one of the locals who
accompanied a group of visiting American Cardiologists and their spouses as
they journeyed to Kandy. The ladies started a sing song. When it was our turn I
sang “My Bonnie lies over the ocean” It went down very well. For the Sinhala
songs Rev B summoned one or two boys to
accompany him on the stage and we all joined
in lustily.
After two classes or periods as they were called,the Christian
boys had to go to chapel.They would walk in double file ,quietly and in an
orderly fashion,no mean feat for children of that age.I was so intrigued ,by
this ,that, I joined them one day.Mrs Dora J advised Kumar as you are a
Buddhist you don’t have to go.I retorted ,my mother said I could go.She very
cleverly replied please bring a letter
from your mother.And that was that.
At that tender age even a year’s difference would make the
older boys look formidable.But mostly they were good natured and well
behaved.There was one boy ,however who would harass my brother.This came to the
attention of our carer Samuel,a lad who
was only a few years older than us but as robust as they come, hailing from
Matara noted for tough street smart youths.He went upto the bully and warned
,if you lay a finger on my master, you will have to deal with me. Not only was
he loyal ,hardy and very protective of us but an ideal companion too who would
join in all our games and larks.We, took
unfair advantage of him by getting him to field mostly,in our cricket
matches.His joy knew no bounds when given a chance to bat; this would be short
lived as he would get caught or bowled out quite soon.He would look after all
our needs;supervising baths at the well
and our school meals and even putting on our shoes and socks and tying the shoe
laces.Even during our holidays in the hills he would accompany us always an
ubiquitous shadow.
One of my deepest regrets is that I have lost touch with
Samuel and all the other domestics who
looked after us lovingly and made our childhood so pleasurable.
The best part of the first term was Senior cricket matches.We
would look forward eagerly to the Friday lunch interval when the game commenced and drag ourselves to class
reluctantly when the break ended.At the end of classes at three pm we would
rush out again.Sadly we had to head home
when our cars arrived.
The cricketers were our heroes,virtually demi-gods.As Neville
Cardus said with such flair “We remember not the scores and results in after
years;it is the men who remain in our minds ,in our imagination.”
One cricketer whom I
have good reason to remember is Chandra Schafter the captain of the 1950
side;he was also the head prefect.One Wednesday ,which was our half day, our
car failed to arrive on time.I was hungry and tired and started bawling, much
to the annoyance of my brother and older cousins.CS who was passing by
,promptly came to our assistance by telephoning our parents and remained for
some time with us.Bora and I met him recently at a Colombo hotel and he still
remains the genial and benevolent person he always was.It was a great shock to
us all when he was deemed unfit to play in the Royal-Thomian on account of a minor
ankle injury.
Sometimes to watch the matches,we would sit on the ground below the pavilion,while the
cricketers and other guests were seated
above us.Our primitive scoreboard was adjacent and registered vertically only
the team score , number of fallen wickets and the score of the last dismissed
batsman.During one match an odious boy screeched,hundred and fifty for one ,last man nought.Tony Witham the man
who was out for a duck ,and seated behind us squirmed and hid his face.He was a
good opening batsman and a useful partner to the other opener,Tyrell Gauder who
was a fast scorer in the fashion of Gordon Grennidge.
A new two storyed spacious pavilion was built in our time and
was named after our most distinguished old boy Mr D.S.Senanayake.At the beginning of his
welcoming speech,Cannon R.S.De Saram said DS won independence for
Ceylon in 1948.Dudley S his son was the chief guest.and said in reply” It is
not often that one gets an opportunity to correct one’s Warden,so I will not
let go this chance.Independence was actually obtained in 1956 by this regime
and the present PM who is also an old Thomian;a dig at the then leaders who were belittling his father’s
hitherto undisputed achievements.
DS also had a sledge hammer wit which he used effectively in
the parliament.Once an opposition MP said the PM has a swollen head;to which DS
replied ,if you said it outside we would have seen who got the swollen head.As
a student he used to wander in the school grounds on his own.When his Warden-saw him he
remarked “ I seem to see you everywhere Senanayake.Yes sir like God he replied
Both were great and good men beloved by the people.Stories of
their humanity and humility abound.DS.S even when he was Prime Minister went to
a local Barber (Gabriel) to get his hair cut.While awaiting his turn another patron had offered his
place.DS had said you came first so you go first.Once the satirist Sooty Banda
made fun of the PM’s “handle bar moustache “ in his weekly newspaper column.SB
was a public servant;his chief who was at odds with him sensed a good
opportunity to get rid of the pest.He went upto DS ,flourished the article and
said Sir,this time this man has gone too far.DS chuckled heartily,and dismissed
him saying ,”Actually as a matter of fact,we need something to laugh at;anyway
it’s my moustache isn’t it” .Afterwards SB ruminated that was the way of the
Great Reactionary, in comparison with some
politicians who were “demagogues with much cleverness, but little
wisdom”
DS never missed the Royal Thomian cricket encounter or the Old
Boy’s day events.When he was batting one time at the latter he had stumbled and
had to be helped up by the umpire .Just then a train passed by, and the
passengers were witnesses to the hilarious spectacle of the Prime Minister’s
bottom being dusted by Donald Fairweather the umpire.
Dudley too was a down to earth man .He was totally relaxed at
the Royal Thomian matches which he would never miss. At one encounter he was
enjoying the cricket ,smoking a
cigarette,when one of my friends Vernon R for a dare asked him for a light
.Dudley obliged and when our man returned to pick up his winnings,his mate
said” Machang stub your cigarette and
frame it; no one else will have one lit
by the PM’ ;Vernon retorted ,are you
crazy, I won’t waste a perfectly good fag
Dudley was once travelling by train to Anuradhapura with JR
Jayawardane his finance minister for a public engagement.My father who was
accompanying them in the train asked him whether he could introduce his two
sons who were also Thomians.Dudley agreed readily,although he appeared
exhausted and longing to wind down after a long day.His shoes were flung to a
side and the tie removed.He chatted with us for nearly twenty minutes enquiring
about the School and other matters and plied us with Orange Barley the
favourite soft drink at the time.Next day as they were motoring out he saw us
looking out of the window of our compartment and waved to us till we were out
of sight. We became ardent life long
fans.
On March 22 1952 DS died suddenly.To the nation in general and
to us ten year olds this was like a thunderbolt out of a blue summer sky; a
mighty ironwood tree crashing to the undergrowth without warning.We were bereft
and speechless. But Warden R.S.De Saram spoke eloquently for us all.”He
gave the School many generous gifts from time to time in his quiet
unostentatious way.But his greatest gifts were his loyalty and the affection he
showered on her and the man he was.He was proud of us and we were proud of
him.He stood for all that we regard as truly Thomian.”
Today his portrait by David Paynter ,hangs proudly in the
school hall.It captures with exactness the genial nature and benevolence of
this man with the rugged frame befitting the farmer and miner he was.
Sometimes we would repair to the shade of the giant banyan
tree to witness the cricket.A Japanese plane shot down by a British fighter
pilot was said to have crashed onto this venerable tree which somehow
survived.An added attraction was the bravado of the young old boys strutting about
with cigarettes dangling from their lips.From time to time a strange
prematurely aged man would appear.His hair was unbrushed, clothes dishevelled
and his face unshaven.He would fling his arms violently which some said was the
consequence of electrocution.We kept a respectful distance from him ,but one impish boy asked
him “Sir if you had a son at school what would you say to him “Tell your mother
that I would like to see her once more “he shot back. This sailed over us ,but
caused much merriment amongst the more sophisticated.
On rare occasions when permitted by the older boys we
would sit on the railings of the fives
courts.In later years seated on the same railings we would ogle the girls who
went past us to their school.One of the prettiest was a burgher girl who was
the sister of a good mate and a fellow cricketer.To this day I regret not
having asked him for an introduction.Many a time have I reflected sadly on Mark
Twain’s wisdom.”Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed,by the things
you did not do than by the things you did do”.Not that I would have known what
to do when introduced.!!Once we met face to face,she with a book on her head
,practicing a model’s gait and me walking in the opposite direction.She smiled
sweetly ,but I was too flustered to linger and chat.
In 1953 we moved into the big school with some regret; sadness
at leaving some teachers mainly female
who were gentle and kind.We flourished under them and I won the class prizes
for 1B and lower 3B under their guidance.A number of the male teachers were
feared.The boys in turn gave them derisive but funny nicknames.Poltokka (fierce
head puncher),goday R( R the village yokel)Bamboo D and most wickedly “black tie murderer”.
An exception was our Sinhala teacher Mr Arisen Ahubudu;remarkable
not only for his knowledge of Sinhala,history and literature and art ,but also
his gentleness and rapport with the children.A small made man , charming in
immaculate national dress , he was an articulate and amusing storyteller.We completed all our assignments
in the first of our double periods which would leave us free to listen to
absorbing tales from his repertoire and also world literature.He would remind
me in later years of Oliver Goldsmith’s Village Schoolmaster.
“And still they gasz’d and still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all that he knew.”
