TWO FRIENDS VISIT THEIR ALMA MATER (Part 1)

By Kumar Gunawardene

’You will always remember

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.”