A Book Review by Srianee Dias.

A Book Review by Srianee Dias.

This is going to hurt by Adam Kay 

While browsing through the selection of books available to me on Kindle Unlimited, this intriguing title caught my eye: “This is Going to Hurt” by Adam Kay.  I had never heard of Adam Kay, so on reading the reviews and the blurbs, I found out that the book had been a multimillion-copy best seller, written by a real doctor in the NHS in the UK.  It was described as being “blisteringly funny” by the Boston Globe, and “heartbreaking” by the New Yorker.  It sounded interesting enough for me to download and start reading.

The subheading on the title page says “Secret diaries of a young doctor.”

The format was unusual, because it was based on his real diary entries, and it is a series of anecdotes. Adam Kay records his life as he progresses in OB/GYN from House Officer, multiple posts as Senior House Officer, multiple posts as Registrar  and then finally Senior Registrar. At the beginnig of the chapters he explains the responsibilities each post entails.

Most of the anecdotes end with a funny observation and I found myself laughing out loud!  Really loud!  He describes his relationships with the consultants and his other colleagues.  We can all relate to his nights on call, and the last minute changes in plans with family and friends.  Because he is Jewish, he had to work every Christmas holiday.  He spent many hours in the hospitals which strained his personal relationships.  We don’t hear too much about his personal life, because this, after all, is about the life of a young doctor.

 Some of the stories are quite touching, and it is easy to see that Adam Kay is a sensitive young doctor. He describes how he would visit the special care nursery on his way home if any of the babies he delivered ended up there. He felt the need to check on their progress.

Both his parents are physicians as well as many other relatives. It is possible that he drifted into choosing medicine as a career without too much thought.  During his stint as a Senior Registrar he finally realizes that he is not cut out to be a doctor. 

He is now a screen writer and author.

This book was quite engaging and entertaining. The author uses a fair amount of slang (he attended medical school after all!) as well as many British medical acronyms that were unfamiliar to me.  I feel that this book would appeal mostly to those in the medical field, although there were many appreciative reviews by readers.

I hope that some of the readers of this blog will try to get their hands on a copy of this book or download it.  (It may be difficult to find in Sri Lanka.)

Prof Sanath Lamabadusuriya awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award in Paediatrics

Great news about a Distinguished Batchmate

Prof Sanath Lamabadusuriya awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award in Paediatrics

On Sunday, the 8th of June 2025, at the Inauguration of the Sri Lanka College of Paediatricians Annual Conference, Sanath was honoured by being presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award and induction to the Hall of Fame. We are all very proud of his achievements. 

On behalf of our batch, Congratulations, Sanath!

Medicare Health Excellence Award 2025 (From a post by Medicare on Facebook Book)

"We are honoured to present the Lifetime Achievement Award in Paediatrics to Prof. S. P. Lamabadusuriya, a true icon in medical education and child healthcare. His exceptional contributions have shaped Pediatric education and Medical education in Sri Lanka, having trained thousands of doctors and established multiple medical schools.

Prof. S. P. Lamabadusuriya is an Emeritus Professor and an icon in the field of paediatrics, whose contributions have left an indelible mark on medical education and child healthcare in Sri Lanka.

He has received numerous distinctions in paediatrics and has trained thousands of doctors, many of whom now serve with distinction across the globe. His efforts have also led to the establishment of multiple medical schools, further advancing paediatric education in the country.

Notably, he was the first person in Sri Lanka to obtain a PhD in Paediatrics from London and also the first Sri Lankan to be honoured with an MBE (Member of the Order of the British Empire) in 1991. Additionally, he holds the unique distinction of being the first Sri Lankan domiciled in the country to receive an MBE from the Queen of England.

His dedication and leadership have extended across four major medical faculties. He is an Emeritus Professor of Paediatrics and a former Dean of the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Colombo.

He was the Founder Professor of Paediatrics at the University of Ruhuna and later served as a Senior Professor at the Rajarata University of Sri Lanka. Additionally, he played a key role as a consultant in the establishment of the Faculty of Medicine at Sabaragamuwa University of Sri Lanka.

He has treated millions of children in Sri Lanka and abroad. From the outset, he was a key pillar of the medicare exhibition and seminar programs. Further solidifying his legacy in the field of medicine and education".

Memories: Nihal D Amerasekera

Memories: By Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

Memory, all alone in the moonlight
I can smile of the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again  

- From the popular musical CATS by Andrew Lloyd-Webber -

As an only child, I have always been a dreamer. I enjoyed my own company. Retirement gave me the luxury of free time to think, reflect and delve into the archives of my memory. When I need solitude, solace and sanctuary my rocking chair has become my silent companion. The chair must have some magic to bring peace to my soul. There are times I reflect lazily on the twists and turns of my life, and there were many. It is a perfect posture to meditate, ruminate and cogitate. I am partial to a glass of wine to help lubricate my thoughts.

Memories of Sri Lanka where I grew up are always with me. What stands out is my deep and lasting gratitude to my country for giving me the education at school and University. I couldn’t have had a better education anywhere else in the world. It is some comfort and consolation that I worked as a doctor for 7 years in Sri Lanka.

My mind often returns to our ancestral home in Kegalle. My earliest recollection of this remarkable abode is of the late 1940’s. Ashley Hall, as it was called, was built on the side of a hill and was akin to an English Manor House. This dignified house was hidden away from the road by a tall well-trimmed Hibiscus hedge. There was a lovely, manicured lawn in front. The elegant rose garden evoked a sense of romance, beauty, and serenity. Even now whenever I smell roses it takes me back to those happy times. The lounge was beautifully carpeted and had a couple of chandeliers and a grand piano. It was a standard ritual to gather round the radio in the evenings. Amidst the hiss and the crackle, we listened to the Ashes cricket via the BBC World Service. There was a His Masters Voice (HMV) winding gramophone which played 78 RPM vinyl records. That was a symbol of affluence in those days. I have always considered Ashley Hall as my spiritual and ancestral home.

After moving to England, it was not until 1988 when I revisited Ashley Hall again. With the passage of years, the older folk had passed away. The young owners had moved away to the metropolis.  Ashley Hall was rented to a Government Department. It was sad to see the house and garden in such decline. The turf had been dug up and the roses were gone. As I stepped into the house, there was an all-pervading eerie silence. It broke my heart to see the dereliction. The caretaker took us round. It was all too much for me. I told the man I spent my childhood there. He seemed to know the past too. The caretaker has seen apparitions in the house and hears music and voices at night. They all say that of old houses. Many yesterdays of my youth are buried in Ashley Hall.

As a teenager I was an avid reader of the Doctor series of books authored by Richard Gordon. He glamorised the lives of young doctors beyond measure. The story was focused on the trials of medical students at St Swithin’s hospital, London, taught by the egocentric and irascible chief surgeon Sir Lancelot Spratt. As I look back, although ‘Doctor in the House’ was a part comedy, there were many similarities to our lives at medical school. It is hard to quantify how much of this flashy and enchanting depiction of a doctor’s life influenced me to take up medicine as a career.

The University Entrance examination for entry into medicine was one of the toughest of all tests. I like to think only the very best cleared the hurdle and those who were successful were the crème de la crème!!

My life changed forever as I entered the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo. Much of 1962 remains a haze. I recall with great nostalgia that life then was a dream. It was hard to handle the adulation and keep my feet on the ground. I developed a sinister arrogance and an assured sense of entitlement. I dreamed of living happily ever after. But life always has ways to bring us back to reality!! The rest as they say is history.

Ours was the golden age of medical education in Sri Lanka. The General Hospital Colombo (GHC) with its iconic long corridors was our workshop where we learnt our trade. I feel greatly privileged to have been taught by some remarkable teachers. It was indeed a hard grind. The tough life gave us self-reliance, confidence, grit and determination. The great heights our batch-mates have reached in almost every sphere of medicine reflect on the quality of teaching we received. 

Those were our formative years, and we were all in it together. The common room was the social hub of the faculty. It was also our retreat and shelter from the storms of faculty life. I still remember with nostalgia the booze, the baila and the bawdy songs at those parties in the Men’s Common Room. Our sojourn in the faculty ended with the final year trip. After being wined and dined most lavishly by medics we returned to Colombo with croaky voices and sore heads. Those wonderful few days of merrymaking will never be forgotten. In 1967 came our great dispersal. We started our internships that went as swiftly as a hurricane. We then began the enormous task of building our careers. 

Politically the country was in turmoil. “Go West young man” was the mantra that appealed to many. The country’s sagging economy did not give us much faith or hope. One of the greatest triumphs in life is to pursue one's dreams. Many dispersed far and wide in search of work and opportunity. Those who left the country entered the Darwinian struggle of survival of the fittest. 

I was one of the few in our batch that didn’t want to leave Sri Lanka. My aim was to be a DMO far away from the big city. The Department of Health in their wisdom, gave me a post in the Central Blood Bank, Colombo. Although these were considered as dead-end jobs, its attraction was the luxury of being in Colombo. This great institution then became the centre of my universe.  I accepted its quirks, idiosyncrasies and oddities as a part of working life. Here, I was happy to be close to my parents. 

This was also a time of great turmoil in my life. I recall with overwhelming sadness the personal problems that made me run away from the country of my birth. For a time, I was a drifter and found solace in the Health Department Sports Club. On evenings, there were many regulars who joined me. We talked politics, philosophy, careers and a multitude of other fascinating subjects. Those discussions were made immensely compelling by the amber nectar. I did value their friendship. 

The qualifying examination for physicians is the Membership of the Royal College of Physicians (MRCP). Holding the part 1 of this examination for the first time in Colombo gave me the impetus to study again. With great difficulty I buckled down to some hard study. With my personal problems behind me I looked for a fresh start to my life and a change of environment. I left Sri Lanka to complete my part 2 of the MRCP. I was successful in the examination much sooner than I thought. This changed my outlook and gave me a new life.

It was in 1960 that Edith Piaf sang “Non, je ne regrette rien” (No regrets). She did so with so much passion and feeling. But regrets, sadly, are a part of life. I still have deep regrets for not being there for my parents in their time of need. I do miss my extended family in Sri Lanka enormously and have paid a heavy price for my desire to live and work abroad. I wasn’t present for the births, weddings and deaths of those most dear to me. I am now a stranger to the new generation born during my absence. I feel a foreigner in the country of my birth as Sri Lanka has moved forward in leaps and bounds, despite the destructive forces of a long ethnic conflict and the endless economic crises. Although I live happily in England, I have left my heart in that beautiful island of my birth and the land of my fore-fathers.

Meanwhile in London, I chose to become a Radiologist. After my arduous training I found a job in a leafy suburb in rural Hertfordshire. My wife and I moved into a brand-new house and we became its first occupants. We created a little "Walawwa", far from the madding crowd. The backyard that was a muddy patch was converted to a fine lawn. Elegant flowerbeds gave us colour all year round. As the years rolled by, I spent many long summer evenings seated in the garden sipping wine and allowing my thoughts to drift into those happy times of my childhood.

Chiu was born in Hong Kong and arrived in England before me to complete her training. It is said marriages are made in heaven. Perhaps they are, but we live our lives on this earth surrounded by disputes, disagreements and difficulties in amongst a great deal of love, laughter and contentment. Chiu and I have managed to be together for 49 years. Our cultures could not be more divergent. We spoke different languages and ate different food. As is often said, marriage is a compromise - and we both had to change, and we did. Our differences strengthened our relationship. We have given life to our boys, bringing them up the best way we knew. Our love for them made many of our differences melt away. Chiu is a loving wife, mother, grandmother and friend to many - and much, much more.

When Steve and Andrew were babies, Chiu was a wonderful mother. She still is. The love, care and attention, given at all times of the day and night, remain so fresh in my mind. I remember the deep love that Chiu showed the boys when they were babies - helpless, mewling, and puking in her arms. I still can feel the warmth of those melodious Chinese lullabies Chiu sang to them, as they fell asleep. Thinking about parenthood brings back a spectrum of emotions and a myriad of memories. Although this happened only a couple of decades ago, it is like being caught up in a reverie of times now long gone.

My professional career and the children’s education took precedence. My wife gave up her own career as a Nursing Sister to care for the kids. She ferried them to school and back. Children’s activities usurped our time and energy. Both boys worked hard to complete their education at Cambridge University. Their success was our joy which we recall with great delight.

Chiu and I have travelled the world together and been to every continent. Wherever we went on holiday it was our ritual to bring back a memento. A collection of those adorned the mantelpiece and the windowsills. Reading has been my joy since I was a kid, a habit which has passed on to my offspring. The resultant collection was a fine library. Computers have been my hobby. Apple Macs whirred away deep into the night. Their detritus filled every corner of my study.

When the children left home we had an empty nest. A "Walawwa", however magical it may sound, is not the place for an ageing couple in their retirement. Keeping such a place in good shape even with help is tiring and time consuming. Moving to live in a smaller space is euphemistically called downsizing. We took the hard decision to move into a small apartment just enough for the two of us. It is often said moving house is as traumatic as a divorce. I wouldn’t disagree. Downsizing helps to concentrate one’s mind to what is important in life. Much of what we owned were given away to charities. We come into this world with nothing, and we leave with nothing. What happens in between is a journey and its memory evaporates into thin air as it ends. After all the next move, will be our final rest.

London is a place of fun, which we can still enjoy. Visits to the museums, galleries, concerts and the theatre fills our time with joy. It is said if you are tired of London you are tired of life - how very true. There is so much on offer.

It was more through luck than judgment I found my nest for life. Living in an apartment requires a different mindset. The block is a community, although not a close one. Everyone is busy with their own lives. We hardly know our neighbours. There are house rules - some written and others implied. There are also civic and social responsibilities. We must respect others’ privacy while sharing the space. Looking through the window at night, I see the geometrically arranged lights of the surrounding blocks. This creates its own beauty. Each light represents people with their own lives, joys and sorrows - all a part of the rich tapestry of life.

Que Sera Sera - Whatever will be will be. Since Doris Day sang this song in the Alfred Hitchcock film of 1956 its poignant lyrics have stayed with me for its glaring honesty of the uncertainties of life. I have often attributed this curious twist of fate to the awesome force of destiny. This my narrative ends as I started, reaching for my glass of wine to end my day dizzy and delightful.

REMEMBRANCE DAY - 30th May 2025

REMEMBRANCE DAY - 30th May 2025

It was most gratifying to see the number of contributions by colleagues.

Thanks to all of you who commented, and not forgetting the silent majority who accessed our Blog but did not post a comment.

This is the final contribution, and I hope you enjoy the video I created.

Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale

Remembrance day 2025: In Memory of Dr Lakshman “Lucky” Abeyagunawardene by Speedy

REMEMBRANCE DAY 2025 POSTS

In Memory of Dr Lakshman “Lucky” Abeyagunawardene. (Our much-valued and loved batchmate who passed away in December 2024)

by Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale

In March 2024

Remembrance day posts have continued to accumulate, and the response from colleagues has been heartening. The Blog is there because of Lucky. The Blog has been the most used medium through which colleagues have kept in touch for a mind-boggling 60-plus years!

I therefore thought of honouring him with this special post. 

I was going to base it around his wonderful book “From Hikkaduwa to the Carolinas: Memoirs of a Reluctant Expatriate” by writing a review. However, I discovered that an excellent review had already been published on our blog on the 13th of September 2013. Lucky posted it, but the author’s name is not stated for some reason. What follows now is my short addition to this review, followed by the more detailed one first posted 11 years ago.

 Review by Mahendra Gonsalkorale.

Lucky sent me a copy of his book in 2010. I value this book with his handwritten message very much and enjoyed reading it. It has been a while since I read it and I decided to read it again and again found it to be a valuable record of not only many aspect of his life journey but also to be rich with connections with so many important people from that era who have crossed our path. His recall is amazing. He has produced names which ring a bell at each stage of his life and as there is an overlap with our lives, these triggered many recollections.

The themes I discovered are how he valued his parents and grandparents, his teachers, his wife and children, his friends and most importantly, his gratitude to his homeland for the education and opportunities he was so fortunate to have received.  The theme of humanity with total acceptance of a multiethnic and multireligious society, which he strongly advocated, resonated with my own views. He did not just say it, he lived it.

The book is very readable and has been set out well with good chapters and subheadings. The photo section adds value. His writing displayed a strong literary talent. In the following extract from page 29 he paints a vivid picture of scenic Talatuoya.

“Acres and acres of lush green paddy fields ever so neatly terraced in hilly upcountry terrain; crystal clear waters gushing down incessantly over a rocky hillside to form a natural pool in the nearby  “oya” where village damsels clad in colourful “diyareddas” bathed; the ancient bridge that spanned across the stream with few people and vehicles moving unhurriedly across it; the hustle and bustle of the vibrant bazaar in the centre of town where traders did brisk business selling a variety of items ranging from foodstuffs to hardware. That is how I would describe the country landscape in Talatuoya that I knew so well”. 

He was exceptional, and we are very fortunate to have had the pleasure and honour of knowing him.

Another aspect that his memoirs must make us more understanding of is when making judgments on those who left the country. The political situation, economic climate, ethnic conflicts, education of children, professional aspiration to give your best to the whole of humanity and not just to those in one country, ability or inability to have a decent income, need for physical presence to support elderly parents, marriage and spouses requirements, and compromising principles of whether or not to indulge in private practice, are all factors which operate when making the decision to leave your home country. There are many more, and mine is not a comprehensive list.  These factors operate to varying extents in the individual case. Lucky dealt with the blocks he faced and kept his desire to return to Sri Lanka a silent aspiration, and he succeeded!

May his memory live with us forever. 

This is the post I referred to above.

 
Review of “From Hikkaduwa to the Carolinas: Memoirs of a Reluctant Expatriate”

 “Memory is the treasure-house of the mind”. - Thomas Fuller

Someone famously but anonymously said this:“The glory of summer is best appreciated, when one is shivering in winter’s cold.” 

Dr. Lakshman Abeyagunawardene’s Memoirs, seem to derive directly from an identical situation. The main title of his book is “From Hikkaduwa to the Carolinas”. He adds an elucidatory second title: “Memoirs of a Reluctant Expatriate.” 

Ten thousand miles away from the land of his birth, memories from ‘good old Sri Lanka’, kept on flooding his soul. The present volume, represents an expanded version of those fond home-thoughts. His professional sojourn in the distant carolinas, provided him with the proper perspective to adore and esteem the allure and the appeal of the place he always calls home. Recollections gushed forth, from the depth of his being. There was no need to recourse to notes. What remained to be done, was to impose book-form, upon the contents.

Briefly, that is the process that ensured the genesis of this book. 

The pages are crowded with memories of persons and places. He narrates the evolution of certain places in the spirit and the style of a dedicated historian. One could feel a sense of affection coming through those descriptions. 

The author hails from Hikkaduwa - a township in the South of Sri Lanka. It is quite a noteworthy “hail”, because Hikkaduwa is replete with a rich lore, centring upon great scholars, affluent families and many who achieved national stature. 

Dr. Abeyagunawardene, traces the ramifications of his own family. He, quite modestly, considers himself a residual legatee of the vast achievements of those earlier stalwarts of Hikkaduwa, who shone at various levels of life. 

Personally I cherish the author’s narration of the history of the area that is well-known as Manning Town, where, according to the author, he lived a good part of his childhood. Since I am currently resident at Manning Town flats, the author’s detailed descriptions of that area, with a touching sense of intimacy, fascinated me no end. The author’s in-depth recounting of the phases of evolution of Manning Town, is eloquent testimony to his impassioned attachment to his childhood haunts. The key to his close involvement with the life at Manning Town, is his memory of the house numbers, in many instances. 

As you continue to progress through his memoirs, you cannot help but be overwhelmed by his phenomenal ability to recall the details of the places he had known, while growing up. Recounting his schooling phase, the author takes the reader to his days at Ananda College. His undiminishing loyalty to Ananda is enshrined in his resounding statement: “I found that greatness in a school does not depend on the locality. My Alma mater, would have flourished anywhere on earth as an outstanding seat of learning!” 

We meet the author next, as an Assistant Science Teacher, at Talatuoya Central College. It is there he experienced the thrill of earning his first salary. As a dutiful son, he bought a twenty-four-Rupee silk saree for his mother and a fourteen Rupee Hentley Executive shirt for his father, using his first pay. 

There were only the minor preliminary steps, towards the entry into a wider world of massive challenges and trying ups and downs. 

The latter half of the Memoirs, is, in effect, a chronicle of his main professional career, as a Doctor of Medicine. It records the story of his professional postings both here and abroad. The total “Memoirs”, speak of a gentle, humane practitioner of medicine, deeply engrossed in the way of life of people. The large number of personalities, mentioned by name in this book, makes it a unique work. It is, veritably a “Who’s Who” of people, who flourished in various fields of like, during the decades, this work focuses upon.

For all you know, your name too is likely to figure here, in some context. 

The calm restrained style of writing, makes the book eminently readable. Although the work traces the progress of a professional practitioner of medicine, the major and minor events, that the author has had to wade through, make it, strangely enough, as absorbing as a work of fiction. The cliche, that fact is stranger than fiction may be apt here. There is, for instance, the episode in which the author is caught up in a plane crash. This real-life tragedy and the miraculous escape of the author, unscathed, but for a swollen ankle, add a dramatic depth to the whole narration. 

Professional travels, took the author to various parts of the world. His narration of these tours, gives the work the feel of a “travelogue’ as well. 

The total impression given by the ‘Memoirs’, is that the reader has been given the opportunity to meet a cultured professional, who has an intense love of his mother country and a marked ardour for serene domesticity. In his concluding segment, we come upon the author as a voyager who has reached a calm haven, after tumultuous travails. He nursed the dream, that the day he and his wife will live in retirement, in Sri Lanka. He reinforces this resolve by saying that “my homeland attracted me like a magnet”. 

The work comes in an elegant hand-cover version. And, all the author’s experiences are available to the reader at Rs.750. This is indeed a memorable Memoir.

https://shop.slma.lk/product/from-hikkaduwa-to-the-carolinas/

You will have to be quick because only 6 books are in stock.

Postscript. In a subsequent post, Lucky said this (and I publish it to show what a sensitive man he was)- "I had failed to mention Speedy's father Edwin Gonsalkorale in the opening chapter ", My Birthplace Revisited". This I think is unforgivable because I distinctly remember my mother talking about the Gonsalkorale family long before I met Speedy in 1962". My response was, "As for not mentioning my father Edwin Gonsalkorale, you are totally and unconditionally forgiven!"

RIP - Ravi (Raveendra) Nadaraja

 RIP - Ravi (Raveendra) Nadaraja

Just received the sad news that Ravi Nadaraja passed away peacefully last night in San Francisco. He is the 62^nd in our batch to do so. (old pic from sig book and new one extracted from photo sent by Srianee, probably 1992)

Block 62 and 1992

He had been ill for some time.

He was my classmate at Royal and we both entered the Medical Faculty in 1962.

He went to the USA and specialised as a highly regarded Cardiothoracic surgeon.

On behalf of our batch, I extend my deepest sympathies to his family.

His wife is Gowri, and they have two daughters: Dr Shiranthana, a resident of SF, and Raveena in Virginia.

I shall post more news as I receive them.

26th May. I have added a more recent photo sent to be my Royal Classmate Sivaloganathan. Ravi is his brother-in-law.

A more recent photo sent by his BiL Sivaloganathan

REMEMBERANCE DAY 2025

REMEMBERANCE DAY 2025.May 30th

(1) Mahendra Gonsalkorale. 

Please scroll down for additions by

(2) Nihal Amarasekera 

(3) Srianee Dias

(4) Suriyakanthie Amarasekera

(5) Kumar Gunawardane

(6) Mahendra Gonsalkorale

(7) Harsha Boralessa

The time has come again, all too quickly, to pause, reflect on our mortality, and think of our lost colleagues. Since Remembrance Day 2024, we have lost five more of our beloved colleagues. That makes a total of 61 (62 after Nada)out of a total of 166. (There were 166 in the batch, including 11 from Peradeniya). There were 107 gentlemen and 59 ladies (including 4 from Peradeniya).

Those who departed since the last RD are:-

57. Gwendoline (Perera) Herath 28.06.2024

58. Primrose (Jayasinghe) Wijeyewardhena 11.08.2024

59. Rita M G Silva (Alwis) Nov 2024

60. Lakshman Abeyagunawardene. 14.12.2024

61. Revelion (Revo) Drahaman 20.12.2024.

62. Ravi Nadaraja

Please add comments on any of your colleagues for whom you wish to record your appreciation.

"Happiness will never come to those who fail to appreciate what they already have"

“Memories don’t leave like people do; they always stay with you”

"The most important discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart." - Elisabeth Foley.

"Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It's not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything." — Muhammad Ali

“Death ends a life, not a relationship; All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here,”  Marie Schwatz.

May they Rest in Peace

1.        S.R. (Sunil) de Silva
2.       A.R.K. (Russel) Paul
3.       Dawne de Silva Paul
4.       Bernard Randeniya
5.       Niriella Chandrasiri
6.       V. Ganeson
7.       L.G.D.K. (Irwin) Herath
8.       V.Kunasingham
9.       B.L. Perera
10.    B. Somasunderam
11.    N.C.D.M. Gunasekara
12.    K.Sunderampillai
13.    Tudor Wickramarachchi
14.    K.N. (Kiththa) Wimalaratne
15.    Anna Ponnambalam Sathiagnanan
16.    A. Satchitananda
17.    N. Sivakumar
18.    T.A. Dayaratne
19.    Sidath Jayanetti
20.    N. Balakumar
21.    Kamali Nimalasuriya de Silva 14.4.2013
22.    K. Sri Kantha – 15.9.13
23.    P. Lucien Perera – 14.6.14
24.    Priya (Gunaratna) de Silva – 8.10.14
25.    Arul (Sivaguru) Balasubramaniam – 15.10.14
26.    W. Punsiri Fernando – 15.11.14
27.    W. Rajasooriyar – 6.1.15
28.    M.P.C. Jaimon – 26.3.15
29.    S. Vedavanam – 1.7.15
30.    Farouk Mahmoud – 27.11.16
31.    Janaka (JG) Wijetunga – 13.03.17
32.    Manohari Navaratnarajah Shanmuganathan – 22.03.17
33.    D. B. Mahendra Collure – 31.05.17
34.    Suren Iyer – 13.10.17
35.    Sardha Jayatilake Wijeratne (Passed away 3 years ago)
36.    S. Sarvananda – 26.05.18
37.   Sue Ratnavel Gunsegaram - 16.7.2018
38.   Boyd Tilak  (Chula)  Batuwitage  - 10.12.2018
39.   Ranjit Kuruppu  9.4. 2019
40.   C.D. (Desmond) Gunatilake  2.6.2019
41.   Razaque Ahamat  7.7.2109
42.   H.N.Wickremasinghe  8.11.2019
43.  Kamini (Goonewardena) Ferdinando 31.1.2021
44. Lucky Weerasooriya jan 2022
45. Zita Perera Subasinghe 5.10.2022
46. V.P.H Rajapakse 15.10.2022
47. Mangalam Sabaratnam Krishnadasan 22.12.2022
48. Cecil Saverimuttu 26.1.2023
49. J. C. Fernando 18.04.2023
50. Navam Chinniah 03.082023
51. Philomena P Thiraviam 6.9.2023
52 Subrananiam Indrani Anthonypillai oct 2023
53. Asoka wijeyekoon dec 22nd,2023
54. Sriani Basnayake Dissanayake 15.02.2024
55. R Wickremaskeran 23.4.2024
56. Bertram Nanayakkara 24.05.2024
57. Gwendoline (Perera) Herath 28.06.2024
58. Primrose (Jayasinghe) Wijeyewardhena 11.08.2024
59. Rita M G Silva (Alwis) Nov 2024
60. Lakshman Abeyagunawardene. 14.12.2024
61. Revelion (Revo) Drahaman 20.12.2024

62. Ravi Nadaraja

We shall forever remember them with fondness and respect.

Please add comments on any of your colleagues for whom you wish to record your appreciation or email me with a contribution which I can add to this post as I have done with ND's article so that we will have a page which will grow progressively.

(2) Respecting our Noble tradition of Remembrance. sent on 12th May 2025

by Nihal D Amerasekera

The 30th of May has become a special date in our calendar, known as “Remembrance Day”. This day is dedicated to remembering our friends who joined the Faculty of Medicine, Colombo in 1962 and have now passed away. It’s a time to reflect on the wonderful time we shared together and pay our respects. We can celebrate their lives and be grateful for the time we had.

I am overwhelmed by nostalgia as I reminisce those days in the Faculty.  I remember with a sense of loss a kinder gentler world which disappeared forever as I left medical school. The most painful of all is the disappearance from my life the people who meant so much to me, my friends. I stepped on the treadmill to carve myself a career and raise a family. Now having reached the end of my working life I still yearn for those days even though more than fifty years have passed me by. We were so much a part of the Faculty and the GHC, the voices and laughter of those departed must still echo in the ether of the hallowed grounds.

The gnawing pain of losing friends never truly eases with time. Friendships are one of life’s rich gifts, especially those made and strengthened in youth. They are special and enduring, leaving us with great sadness but also with fond and unique memories.

At this time, we think of the spouses and families of those who have passed away. They have faced the difficult and painful task of coming to terms with living without their loved ones. We admire and commend their courage and efforts to maintain contact and join our gatherings and reunions. They are an integral part of our community and will always be welcome.

On this special day, we take this opportunity to remember our teachers in the Faculty and our clinical tutors in the GHC. They generously imparted their knowledge, teaching us the difficult craft of diagnosis, treatment, and caring. We were immensely fortunate to have Prof O.E.R Abhayaratne as the Dean of the Faculty of Medicine. He was an outstanding teacher, an altruistic mentor, and a father figure to us all.

The five years of hard toil and trauma brought us closer. Our batch of 159 students demonstrated remarkable unity and loyalty to each other. The pranks and foibles, especially the risqué jokes, allusions, and double entendres, come to mind easily. The block concerts, Colours Nights, the many evening parties in the Men’s Common Room, and the final year trip are memories we treasure. What we remember now are the good times.

Do make every attempt to keep in touch. There is no better place than our own hangout in cyberspace – we call the Blog. This is the forum that unites us. Send your Poems, Paintings and  Prose to Mahendra Gonsalkorala to be published. Comments help to encourage the contributors and keep the Blog alive.

Despite life’s vain tumults, none of us is here forever. Our time will come, and now we are in the grip of events, much of which is beyond our control. Meanwhile, we must enjoy life, family, and friends. Even now, when I smell formalin or ether, I am transported back in time and space to the Faculty at Kynsey Road. Overwhelmed by nostalgia, I still feel a flicker of nerves. Then, a video plays in my mind of friends and life long ago. Ah! Where have those years gone?

More of my memories of departed colleagues (by ND)

H.N.Wickramasinghe

I was surprised and delighted to see him in the Paediatric ward in Kurunegala to start his internship in June 1967. For the following 6 months, we were to save lives together. I couldn’t have asked for a better colleague. It was such a pleasure to work with HN as he was conscientious, caring and a kind doctor. I remember it so well on our first payday when we did a long walk to the Kurunegala Rest House after work and enjoyed several pints of beer. This became a regular ritual until he left Kurunegala. He was great company at any time, but more so after the amber nectar. We became closer during the internship. He never indulged in hurtful gossip, recrimination or sniping and had a good word for everyone. His commitment, honesty and dignity touched all those with whom he worked. With HN’s gregarious and affable personality, he had no interest in grumbling and complaining about work or people. He never stood for any nonsense and spoke his mind. This enhanced the respect and his popularity as a person.

Sivakumar Vedavanam

In the Blood Bank, we became closer. I recall the many evenings we drifted towards the Health Department Sports Club to put the world to right and enjoy the amber nectar that flowed so freely. That was a time when the Medical Officer in the Blood Bank had to go to all parts of our island to collect blood. On many occasions when he went on these journeys, he asked me to join in for company. We did have a jolly good time. During those trips he showed tremendous kindness to the PHI’s, attendants and labourers who were part of the team. They loved him for his classless friendship and lavish hospitality. Those were indeed memorable years. He will be fondly remembered for the work he did for the National Blood Transfusion Service of Sri Lanka 1970-75.

Razaque Ahamat

Because of our surnames, “A”, we sat together at lectures, weathered the storms of the signatures and revisals and endured the hardships of those clinical appointments. We both lived in Wattala and travelled daily by train from Hunupitiya to Maradana in carriages packed like sardines. During those years, what stands out is his helpful kindness, his great sense of humour and his charming, convivial nature. All through those years in the Faculty he enjoyed life to the full. He joined in the many dances, Colours Night and Block Nights that brightened up our lives. Razaque was often one of the last of the stragglers to leave King George’s Hall at the break of dawn.

He had many stories to tell which he related with a slight lisp which enhanced the narrative. He said, with a murky smile, he descended from the Royal family in Penang. Fact or fiction, we will never know just like the other hilarious stories in his repertoire. Razaque brought happiness to our lives at the Faculty when the atmosphere was stuffy and toxic.

Zita Perera Subasinghe

After the great dispersal from Kynsey Road in 1967, it took a further 48 years to see Zita again. This time, she was with her husband, Joe. They both seemed jolly and lively.  Mahendra has kept in touch with Zita, and we all met up at Côte Brasserie off Oxford Street in London. It was 2015, and we had all retired from our professional lives. This was a remarkable bonding and there was so much closeness and intimacy despite the passage of years. We retraced our lives since medical school. I remember the clarity with which Zita related the story of her life, work, and family to this day. What stood out was how happy she was with her life. Zita was delightful company, always spoke kindly about people, and there was never a harsh word.

Priya Gunaratna

In 1967 we met again in Kurunegala doing those arduous tasks of internship. We worked together in the Children's Ward with the Paediatrician Dr Chandra de S Wijesundera (who later married our batchmate Manel Ratnavibhushana). There, I got to know Priya more closely, sharing the on-calls and other onerous tasks of a busy unit. While at work she had the great ability to remain calm and in control.  She showed tremendous kindness, courtesy and patience towards the children in her care and also to their worried parents.  I recall Priya had great empathy for the poor, simple rural folk of the wanni who sought our help. She remained a reliable, unpretentious and hardworking colleague throughout.  The passion, integrity, and professionalism Priya showed during the internship was a beacon for us all.  She was indeed a very special person.

Tudor Wickramarachi:

He was rather restless and intense as a medical student. He always gave as good as he got. I also remember his ebullient and exuberant personality and his zest for life. Tudor and I worked as surgical interns and endured the punishing schedule of hospital medicine together. Amidst the brief tantrums, awful puns and risqué humour, Tudor showed great empathy and tremendous kindness to his patients, staff and colleagues. He was a loyal friend but was never inhibited by sensitivity or shyness when it came to expressing his own opinion.  Although occasionally boisterous, he was mostly gregarious, genial and generous. I visited him when he was DMO Dambulla. Call it ‘oriental lavishness’, the bottle of amber nectar appeared before I sat down and to this day remains a blissful memory of a well-lubricated evening. When we met again in London he was much subdued and a reformed family man. I nearly fell off the chair when he refused a drink. Tudor became a respected Pathologist in Bristol. He sadly passed away while doing what he loved best – playing golf. A life well lived but taken far too soon age 66.

Asoka Wijeyekoon alias “Lubber”

He was one of my closest pals and one that I miss a great deal. Meeting him even as an octogenarian, the conversation was always current as he was well-informed. He expressed his views and opinions without fear or favour and brought a good deal of lateral thought to any discussion. I sincerely hope one day we will meet again in another realm. Perhaps it is au revoir and not goodbye. I know he will have a lot to say about that, too. When I look back the memories of 50+ years, Lubber was a kind, sociable friend and a unique human being. This is not an attempt to deify him. He too has the same faults we all possess. As in his youth Lubber is extraordinarily frank, fears no one and retained an aura of gravitas from his ‘consultant’ days. He had the remarkable ability to bring to any discussion a huge degree of intelligence derived from lateral thinking. I am ever grateful we were able to meet. It is true we go back to the beginning as we get to the end. It was, and will always remain, one of the great privileges of my life to have known him.  

A.Satchithananda

Ever curious, he was cultured as he was intelligent. We played table tennis and carrom in the Faculty Common Room and over cups of tea put the world to right. He later emigrated to the USA. We were both Apple Computer buffs. In those early days they were disastrously unreliable beasts. We tried hard to make sense and keep them working.

Although not a Christian he listened every Christmas to the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols sung by the Kings College Choir in Cambridge on Christmas eve, broadcast at 3pm GMT which he said was a ritual since his schooldays.

When Satchi was at the height of his fame and success as a Paediatrician in Wisconsin, he walked away from the profession due to ill health. His journey through life was filled with sadness and tragedy, but he always managed to smile and joke with his friends. I remember well his charm and intellect. We met up in an Indian Restaurant in London in the 1990s and enjoyed lunch and exchanged gifts. His present to me was a Gorecki’s 3rd Symphony, a deeply sorrowful piece of work. Understandably, the events of his painful past and his own illness had a devastating effect on his life and personality. Despite this, he maintained his dignity and composure, remaining a loyal friend to the end. He indeed stood above the common herd. 

Revelion Drahaman

I first met Revo in 1965 when we were both students at the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo. It was the Swinging Sixties. Memories of amber nectar, tall tales and late nights whizz around my head as I recall those years of long ago. Friendships were made and firmed in the canteen and common room which was the social hub of the Faculty where laughter was endemic. Revo started his training with the first batch of students at Peradeniya and moved to Colombo on a transfer. As our surnames were nearer the beginning of the alphabet, we did most of the clinical work together. Our walks on the long corridors to every corner of the General Hospital in search of patients and knowledge is a memory that has stayed with me. This brought us closer and the friendship lasted a lifetime. By his dignity and decency, he brought honour to his school, the profession and his community. This short biography is a testament to the caring and integrity which was evident in everything he did. Revo lived a remarkable life. He was ever so humble about his success and never regarded himself as someone special. Despite his privileged upbringing, he never lost the common touch. I consider myself so very fortunate to have met him in my journey through life. Revo is a gem in a world of pebbles. He has gone before us in the journey we all must take.

Lakshman Dias Abeygunawardene 

Lakshman was a quiet man, yet gregarious, always charming. He was well known for his intense loyalty to his friends. His anecdotes, wonderful sense of humour and that ‘wicked’ grin were an integral part his charm.  I remember from long ago his courtesy and kind ways which he has carried through all his life. I am greatly privileged to have met him in my life’s journey.”

J.C Fernando

JC has had a rewarding professional career. We have enjoyed his company, humanity and joie de vivre. Rarely boring or predictable, sometimes outrageous, JC was excellent company. He had tremendous enthusiasm for social events in medical school. Being a fine musician, many of us got to know JC at social functions. We sang and danced at the memorable and raucous evening booze-ups in the Men’s Common Room. My abiding memory at these events is the lithe figure of the ‘Dark Knight’ strumming his guitar, singing in graphic detail the itchy tale of “the dance of the phthirus pubis”. His signature song was “Saima cut wela” a tragic tale of a beginner’s hangover and an effective home remedy. He sang “Suranganee-ta malu genawa”, tempting fate long before they became a pair!! He capped it all with an enduring contribution to the Final year trip making the days brighter and the nights merrier. His was a good life well lived, and he has left fond memories which will always be treasured”.

Bernard Randeniya

Bernard was held in high esteem in the Health Service as one of its most colourful and successful managers, and as a man who led from the front and inspired all those who worked with him. His great professionalism was accompanied by an infectious enthusiasm for life and mischievous sense of humour. He used his charm and skills of persuasion to obtain expensive equipment for the Cancer Institute Maharagama to benefit the numerous patients who came for treatment. Despite his achievements he was also a modest man, protective of his privacy, embarrassed by praise and with a deep aversion for publicity.

In early 1999 when we met up in Colombo, he gave me the sad news of his illness which proved terminal. I kept in touch with him and admire the courage which he showed until the very end. He passed away with great dignity in November 1999 at the age of 58 years. Bernard was a devout Catholic . His faith gave him great comfort during his final illness.

His cheeky grin and infectious laugh are precious memories for us all. Bernard was my best friend and I will miss him. He was far too young to leave us.

S.R De Silva

Sunil came from the upper echelons of society with a strong academic background but was resolutely down to earth. This showed even in the way he dressed. He had the remarkable ability to move with equal ease with the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, a trait inherited from his illustrious uncle Colvin R de Silva. He made many friends in the faculty and by his very nature had no enemies. Sunil was soft-spoken, self-effacing and sober. His lifestyle was modest and unpretentious. He was exceptionally kind to everyone and treated all with courtesy and respect. Sunil never entertained any of that frivolous gossip which was rampant in the university.  We were all just out of our teenage years and showed our emotions easily, but not Sunil. I never saw those moments of sentimentality in him. Perhaps he masked them skilfully with his distinctive poker face.

He may have a chuckle reading this narrative, wagging his finger at me.

When I think of Sunil, I’m reminded of a poem I learnt as a child that matched his persona perfectly:

Some go silently into the night
walk through the park of our humanity
with breath that parts no air -
steps that bend no grass -
disturbing nothing as they pass.

Tilak Dayaratne  

Tilak lived in Homagama and rode his red Moto Guzzi, generating noise and elegance in equal measure. He often took me to Nugegoda, weaving through the High Level road traffic at high speed. When I offered to pay him for the trip, he wanted to pay me for taking the risk. Tilak was a sensitive and thoughtful man. He was disdainful of hypocrisy, social convention and conformity. His apparent indifference should not be confused with a lack of respect for values and beliefs. On those rare social occasions he ignited interesting discussion and humour. Tilak detested the spotlight. To many, his life was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. To those who got to know him, Tilak was charming, kind and courteous. We got on tremendously well during our days at the faculty. He was a talented artist. At an end of appointment party, I recall that indelible moment when he stood up and sang about a Dutch girl. Our hostess was from the Netherlands. I do regret not keeping in touch after the great dispersal of 1967. He is now at peace, something that eluded him most of his life. May it last forever. 

(3) Poems suited for the theme sent by Srianee Dias

Heinrich Heine:-  “Death is the cool night”

Death is the cool night,
Life is the sultry day.
It is already growing dark; I am drowsy;
The day has made me weary.

Over my bed there rises a tree,
In it the young nightingale is singing.
It is singing of nothing but love;
I hear it even in my dreams.

Friedrich Rückert
“At Forty”. (Could be revised to“At Eighty!”)

At forty the mountain has been climbed;

We stand still and look back;

There we see lying the quiet happiness of childhood

And there the boisterous happiness of youth.

Look once again, and then with renewed strength once more

Lift your traveller’s staff!

A mountain ridge extends before you, a broad one,

And the way down is not here but on the other side.

You no longer need to climb upward breathing heavily.

The plain draws you along of its own accord;

Then together with you it will imperceptibly incline,

And before you know it, you will be in port.

(4) By Suriyakanthie Amarasekera- 17.05.2025

They say that friends are those who share, both bright and gloomy days

Friends make us happy with their thoughtful friendly ways

Friends are those with whom we can discuss the little things we’ve planned

Or just keep silent, knowing they will always understand

And I say yes, friends are all this, and much more, I should know

Because I’ve been blessed to have friends who have proved it so

There are sweet and precious memories that I will always treasure

Of my dear departed friends whom I loved beyond measure

                            - a poem by Suri -

Since the last Remembrance Day, we have said goodbye to:-

Gwendoline Herath, Rita Silva, Primrose Wijewardane, Lucky Abeygunawardane and Revo  Drhaman.

Though I had lost touch with Gwendoline Herath  (nee Perera) for a long time, I got in touch with her again when her son Ramila started working with my daughter Manique in 1998,  at IFS a Swedish Software Company. It was a joy to interact with her during their many celebrations and parties during the festive seasons.

I have many fond memories of Primrose Wjewardane (nee Jayasingha). I remember hearing her beautiful voice on the Radio program “Lamapitiya” even before I met her as a fellow batchmate in 1962. She was always impeccably groomed, dressed in a Kandyan sari. I remember her outstanding presentation at a Physiology Seminar, which earned her the title “Mighty Atom” by our Prof Koch, who was so impressed by her. Primrose was a friendly, fun-loving girl, and we were often in the same ward classes.

Lucky Abeygunawardane was one of the first boys I made friends with in the batch. I remember he was assigned the Head and Neck on the same cadaver on which I had to dissect the Lower Limb. He had been working as a casual employee of B O C with my older brother while waiting to enter Medical College. Aiya told me that Lucky was a very decent chap, as indeed he was. We remained good friends and remained in touch till he secured a WHO Scholarship to specialise in Health Education and worked for several years in South Carolina. He returned to Sri Lanka and joined the UNICEF as a Consultant in Health Education. Lucky was the first person I contacted when I got the inspiration to organise the first ever Batch Reunion in 1988. His tireless efforts resulted in a memorable reunion. Lucky was heavily involved in every Batch Reunion held in Sri Lanka in 1992, 1997, 2007, 2012 and 2017. He volunteered to act as Secretary a demanding role that he performed with his quiet efficiency resulting in over 50 batchmates and their spouses joining in the last two reunions.

Lucky had a quiet sense of humour and willingly participated in the Doctors Concert of the SLMA one year, acting in a skit of Doctor-Patient Encounters. He looked ravishing, dressed up as a female, and drew wolf whistles from the appreciative audience as he sashayed across the stage. Everyone was kept guessing his identity. I remember Mangala telling me that he was very particular about being dressed correctly, even down to the long pink fingernails!

I also recall how unassuming he was. When Mangala needed a Thyroidectomy, he didn’t march into the OT demanding attention. I spotted him hovering in the OT lobby at SJGH, and asked him why he was waiting there. It was only then that I learned that Mangala was a patient on Dr Yoheswaran’s Tuesday Operating list for which I provided Anaesthesia. I remember scolding him for not contacting me. It was my privilege to persuade Yoga not to postpone the surgery for another day, as the thyroid had a retrosternal extension and would need a sternal split. I spoke to the Thorasic Surgeon Panna Gunaratne who was physically present I the OT and he readily agreed to give a helping hand if necessary. Thank God everything went smoothly, though poor Mangala ended up with a rather obvious scar.  We owe our dear Lucky a huge debt of gratitude for his inspiration to create the batch blog, which has kept us in touch with each other.

Revo Drahaman was one of the lot who joined our batch from Pera. I always found him to be a friendly, good-natured chap. His skill as an Otolaryngologist was phenomenal. I was in close touch with Revo over the years, particularly as his son Akram worked for several years as a junior doctor at SJGH and helped me with the annual Carolling I organised at Christmas. But my most unforgettable memory of Revo was what an amazingly skilled and caring doctor he was when he treated my son Shaan ( who most of you have met ) when he completely lost his voice just one week before the staging of “The Phantom of the Opera”  at the LWT by the Workshop Players, when Shaan was playing the “Phantom”. Shaan was naturally devastated, and I firmly believe that it was Revo’s bold and unorthodox treatment and also the positive attitude he infused into Shaan that effected the miraculous cure in such a short time. The show was a resounding success, earning Shaan a standing ovation and rave reviews. Thank you, my dear friend.

(5) Kumar Gunawardane

A VIGNETTE ON FRIENDSHIP

“The comfort of having a friend may be taken away, but not that of having had one”  -Seneca.

The image of ND on his armchair, lingering lovingly on the images of our departed colleagues, struck a chord deep in my heart. I followed suit, deliberately dwelling on some, rekindling memories of those joyous days of our youth.

As the poet memorably said

“Bliss it was that dawn to be alive,

But to be young was very heaven”

- William Wordsworth -

Our hearts were full of romance, the limbs supple and the gait swift, but we were also vulnerable, easily hurt and slow to recover. Many of us did bounce back, however, and reach great heights, bringing acclaim to our entire group.

ND’s image also reminded me of Buddha’s advice to Ananda, his cousin and attendant, while residing in the Sakya village of Nagardaka. Ananda, having paid homage to the Blessed One, said, “Venerable Sir, good friendship, good companionship and good comradeship are half of the holy life”.

“Not so Ananda , Not so Ananda , good friendship, good companionship and good comradeship is the entire holy life. When a bhikku has a good friend, a good companion, a good comrade, it is to be expected that he will develop and cultivate the Noble Eightfold Path”.

I affectionately remembered too, our living colleagues and friends, who continue to enliven our lives. I wish them and all their families good health, happiness and peace to the end of their days.

(6) Zita Perera Subasinghe. by Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale. 20.5.2025

I could have written about so many of our lost colleagues, but I chose to write about  Zita on this occasion, as she was a very special person. She had many talents, and she valued friendship so much. A significant reason for the blog to continue to this day was Zita’s enthusiasm for it.  The Blog was the vehicle through which I re-established contact with Zita and her lovely family. I have visited them on several occasions, and every time I went, I was greeted with love and affection, not just by Zita and Joe but also by Nisha and Rohan. I felt completely at home and relaxed.

She is without doubt a very special person, a person with whom I have had deep discussions on the nature of life, faith and belief. These are subjects you have to tread carefully with some people, as it can cause misunderstandings, but with Zita, we were totally honest with each other, although we did not always agree. But this is the essence of laudable human nature, to question and disagree while always respecting another view, as surely, we mortals cannot claim to know everything.

Zita was a talented piano player, and her poems were beautifully written. Our blog is filled with many thoughtful and entertaining posts by her.

It was my good fortune and great privilege to have been her friend; her memory will always remain with me.

(7) By Harsha Boralessa

I am posting some fond memories of some of our dear batchmates who are no longer with us.

Thilak Dayaratna: a close and loyal friend, gifted with a beautiful singing voice and immense artistic talent. He was also a keen dancer although he had the tendency to go off beat and tread on his partner’s toes. He got away with it by telling his dancing partners that he was executing the latest moves taught at the Viville de Kauwe School of Dancing. I spent many a Saturday night in his company drinking Lion Lager at the Savoy Hotel, Wellawathe.

Johnny Chandrasiri – very studious and kept meticulous lecture notes. In the last three months of our final year at Medical School Kumar and I invited him to be our unofficial room guest at the Blom. He was a great asset and all of us benefitted immensely from studying together.

He loved COD unaccompanied by ketchup, chips and mushy peas.

Suren Iyer: while I barely knew him as a medical student, we became close friends (a good aiyah) after we emigrated to the UK. He was a caring and competent GP who was much loved by colleagues and patients alike. A very loyal and generous member of the Old Anandians Association in the UK.

Suren and his lovely wife Sweeney were enthusiastic Latin and Ballroom Dancers. I can still picture them doing the rhumba to their favourite Sinhala song Kandula Ithin Samaweyan.

Sue Ratnavel: As with Suren, I barely knew Sue at medical school but got to know her very well in later life as she was a very close friend of my wife Harshi. At medical school Sue was very reserved but much admired. When I got to know her, I found her to be simple and down-to-earth even though she hailed from an affluent family. I particularly enjoyed listening to her speaking fluent Sinhala.

According to my wife, Sue used to sing beautifully. As a medical student in Kandy, Sue played a lead part in the after-dinner sing-alongs in their Hall of Residence. Jail House Rock and and Sloop John B were among two of her favourite songs.

Navan Chinniah was part of our Sig group which consisted of Siri Cassim, Johnny, Lady Chellapa and Chitta. He related funny stories, had a good sense of humour and was always smartly dressed. Following his first class at the third MBBS, he threw a party for 50 of his batchmates at a local Chinese restaurant. We had a sumptuous meal and a great time.

Adventures in Transport. Suriyakanthie Amarasekera

Adventures in Transport by Suriyakanthie Amarasekera

(This is really interesting, and I urge you to read it right to the end. Speedy)

Suri - then and now

Hi Everybody, I do not have Lama’s fantastic recall of my “Graduation in Transport”. So instead, I thought I would share some of my experiences in transport over the years, which you may find interesting.

Pajero Jeep

"Our first car was a Skoda, which we bought second-hand in 1972". I remember that it broke down at Bambalapitiya junction, when we were on our way to watch a Sinhala Drama at the Elphinstone ( I think it was “Suba saha Yasa”) I was heavily pregnant at the time, but I got down and attempted to push the car, with Mahendra at the wheel. In no time at all, about five males rushed up and helped me. They pushed the car into Laurie's Road, where Dr Kumar Fernando lived, and we proceeded to our destination with time to spare, in a taxi.

"When we went to the UK in 1975, our first car was a Vauxhall Victor with a bench seat in front". I was able to keep my daughter Manique beside me and put the seat belt across both of us while Mahendra was driving. We were delighted to receive an invitation to the Buckingham Palace Garden Party in July 1978. Mahendra drove to Buck House in our trusty old Vauxhall Victor to the allotted car park, and parked among Rolls-Royces, Jaguars and other gleaming posh vehicles. As we got down, steam started pouring out of the bonnet! The cop who was there was very nice and asked if we had come a long way. He said it happened to two other vehicles as well.

He advised us to let the engine cool down and then top up the radiator. We were carrying water in our boot, so we were not worried

"I wanted to get my British Driving License, so I took the U K Driving test" To my utter consternation, I failed it twice! The first time, I admit I was not up to standard. But the second time, I did what I was sure was a perfect run and failed again! The reasons given for failing me were “not keeping well over to the left” (It was a time of closure of schools, and there were children walking on the edge of the road) and “not looking sufficiently in the driving mirror !” I have a wider visual field than usual, probably due to my bone structure, and I don’t have to swivel my head to look in the driving mirror. I found out that this was the same guy who had failed me the first time. Then, to my fury, I found that on the same day, this same chap had passed my British white skinned fellow Anaesthetic Registrar from King's College, who confessed to having driven over the curb, hit a dustbin, and completely fouled up the 3-point manoeuvre.

I also recalled that this chap also asked me whether I can speak and understand English, in spite of the fact that I had been chatting to him while I escorted him to my car, which was parked a little distance away from the test centre, apologising for making him walk in the hot sun! So, I wrote to the Motor Traffic Department, naming him and requesting that they avoid allocating me to him again, as I have reason to believe that he was racially prejudiced. I was so upset that I didn’t want to take the test again, but on second thought, I had never given up on anything in my life, and I didn’t want to do so now. Thank God I passed on my 3^rd attempt. Incidentally, the British Driving Test is the only test\ exam that I failed to pass on the first attempt!

"Mahendra bought me a bright red Datsun 100A (Cherry) in 1978, from another Sri Lankan". I loved it because it was so easy to drive and park. It was a two-door car, so I could put Manique and Shaan in the back seat and not worry that they would fall out. Mahendra meanwhile was given an official car by his company a gleaming black Daimler Sovereign which I was not allowed to touch!

"We had decided to return to Sri Lanka in 1981 and were thinking of disposing of the Datsun, when fate took an unexpected turn". Mahendra used to drive to Kings to pick me up whenever I was working late, and the children loved to jump into the car in their pyjamas. On that fateful day, they were glued to the TV watching one of their favourite programs and refused to accompany Mahendra. On the way to KCH , Mahendra met with a nasty crash . 

A motorcyclist driving in the opposite direction at high speed,

Datsun smash

completely on the wrong side of the road, crashed head-on with our car. The rider was flung up towards the windscreen, bounced off the roof and fell off at the back. Just imagine if his trajectory was just 6 inches lower, a booted, helmeted missile travelling at about 60 mph would have struck Mahendra full on his face and probably broken his neck! The motorbike rider escaped with just a fracture of his Femur, but the car was a right off and had to be towed to the graveyard! I shudder to think what would have happened to the kids had they been in the car, because they would have been thrown forward violently. It was a blessing in disguise, as we got full insurance payment.

"Back in Sri Lanka, we had several vehicles, and in 1985, Mahendra bought a red Pajero Jeep with the distinctive registration number 41 Sri 222 from the then Minister of Sports", Mr. Vincent Perera. It was the very first batch of Pajeros imported to Sri Lanka. It had been registered as a lorry, but I was able to drive it as my British Driving License permitted me to drive heavy vehicles. I remember the first time I drove it to Jayawardanepura Hospital; all the consultants came to the car park to admire it. During the height of JVP activity when they banned public transport on certain days, I used to pick up hospital workers on the way, and once had 15 passengers with me driving, which must be a record. It’s a wonder that I was not shot at!

Suri and Mahendra and red Pajero

"I recall that in the late eighties, St Thomas College had a fundraiser Sponsored Triathlon". They walked from College to SSC, swam a couple of lengths in the pool and cycled back to college. We had a Video Camera (again, one of the first models to be available in SL. It was a huge contraption with a separate battery pack that had to be slung on the shoulder). The Warden, Mr. Neville de Alwis, asked Mahendra to Video record the event. So, I had the privilege of driving the Pajero, with Mahendra sitting at the back with the rear door open, filming. We were able to get a lovely video of the event, which we were privileged to present to the Warden.

"Recalling an amusing anecdote, I remember driving along Alan Avenue (Zoo Road) at 5.00 am to attend to a Caesarian Section", in my Trad Sunny when my headlights caught a huge dog running in the middle of the road. It galloped in front of me for about 100 yards, and suddenly it turned into a garden by the side of the road. The next day, the Newspaper headlines declared that a bear had escaped from the Zoo early in the morning!   Imagine the shock of the house owner when he opened his front door to see a bear in his verandah!!

"As I have mentioned in an earlier entry, I have trouble remembering car registration numbers". Mahendra used his connections as the Chief Legal Officer of the CTB to get me numbers that could be easily remembered, like 6393, 2020, 0505,0606 over the years, whenever we purchased a car using the Doctors Import Permit.

"During the 30-year separatist war, the Jayawardanepura Hospital was identified as the hospital to treat all war casualties". The soldiers were brought on a fixed-wing craft to Ratmalana, and then taken by Ambulance to our hospital. As this caused an unacceptable delay in treating the critically wounded, a Helipad was built on the hospital grounds. 

"One day I got an urgent call around 10.00 pm that several critically injured soldiers had been air lifted and asking me to come asap". I managed to drive to SJGH in Kotte, from Hill Street Dehiwela in 14 minutes flat! Don’t ask me how! The worst injured was a young soldier named Ramawickrama, who had horrendous injuries to his right arm and leg. Everybody present was of the view that the limbs were beyond salvaging and advised the surgeon to amputate both. But we were determined to do better than our best, and after 22 operations, including multiple wound debridements, bone grafting and plating, skin grafting, he walked home with just a slight limp and a 30-degree flexion deformity of his right elbow. The surgeon and I were jubilant! A human side to this saga, Ramawickrama’s girlfriend, fearing that he would end up a cripple, deserted him. Needless to say, he was devastated and became depressed, refused to eat and became suicidal. It took our combined efforts to keep his spirits up. It had a beautiful, happy ending. His Physiotherapist, Renu, fell in love with him, and they got married. With the help of the then army commander Nalin Seneviratne, who was my friend, they were able to emigrate to the USA.

"On the 31st of January 1996, the Tamil Tigers drove a lorry full of explosives into the Central Bank building", in broad daylight, causing extensive damage to it and killing a total of 80 persons, of which 41 were Central Bank employees, and seriously injuring a couple of hundred others. We watched in horror as it was telecast on TV. I was so worried about the safety of my older brother, J ED Karunaratne, who was a Thomian and the Head of Bank Supervision CB . Having failed to contact him by phone, I decided to drive to NHSL to search for him. The scene at NHSL was chaotic. After looking for Aiya in the wards, corridors, and OT lobby in the ETU for almost half an hour, I began to feel desperate. A nurse at the reception of the ETU said, "There are several brought in dead; they are behind that curtain ".

I was summoning up courage to look when I heard a shout, "Madam!" I spun round to see a  Surgical Registrar running towards me. He said that he had met my brother in a medical ward and had been asked to send me a message. I was so relieved. I rushed to the ward to find Aiya, with his face and left axilla covered in bandages, looking rather dazed but conscious and rational. He said he had been sutured by a young doctor, without local anaesthesia, who kept apologising for hurting him, and who said that he has not sutured any patient for many years!  I had no hesitation in deciding to take him to J Pura. So, having failed to get an ambulance for transport, I borrowed a wheelchair and took him to my car. I reclined the passenger seat as far as it would go, and having strapped him in, started driving back to Kotte, with my hazard lights blinking.

"Again, the traffic was unbelievable, but many vehicles gave way, and two young chaps on motorbikes even escorted me part of the way". My colleagues at Jpura, including the surgeon, radiologist, and haematologist, were waiting to help me. Aiya was taken straight to the OT. I anaesthetised him, and it took the surgeon 2 hours to stitch the multiple lacerations on his face. Then he thought it best to have a look at the axillary wound, and to our horror, found that a sharp splinter of glass, triangular in shape and about 4 inches in length, was sitting on his brachial artery, pulsating with every heartbeat. My blood ran cold, to think that just a few mm deeper, would have cost Aiya his life through a massive haemorrhage... and it could have happened even while I was transporting him in my car!

"One Sunday in church during intercessory prayers", the Worship Leader suddenly mentioned our names Mahendra and Kanthie and said that he was moved to pray for our safety in the coming week. Needless to say, I was embarrassed and was actually annoyed that he drew everybody’s attention to us. The very next day Monday, Mahendra picked me up from hospital around 10.00 am (it was a day of the Provincial Council Elections).

"We were driving home along Alan Avenue (Zoo Road)", when a car driven at high speed cut across from a side road (de Sampaya Road ) and hit the passenger side of the car. Mahendra lost control as the steering got locked, and the car was heading straight at a lamp post on the opposite side of the road. I was thrown against the wind screen (silly me I was not wearing a seat belt) I was dazed, and my last conscious thought was that I’ll never see my children again. The car got entangled in the stabilising wire, which cut through the engine and came to a halt just a few inches from the lamp post. I was rushed to SJGH by ambulance and admitted to the ICU unconscious. But thank God, recovered completely with no serious side effects except recurrent headaches which lasted a couple of months. The car was only six months old and was a right off. But we got full insurance payment and were even allowed to import another car using the same import permit. Who says miracles don’t happen!

"I have accompanied critically ill patients needing transport by ambulance several times, both here in Sri Lanka and in the UK." Of these, two instances are worthy of mention. One evening I was gardening, wearing rather tatty clothes and rubber slippers, when I got a frantic call from a Paediatrician, asking me to come asap, because one of his patients had collapsed while in consultation. In those days, I always carried resuscitation equipment in the boot of my car. So, I grabbed my car keys and drove to the Medical Centre Dehiwela in just a few minutes. I found an unconscious cyanosed child who was not breathing. I was able to intubate her, and soon she picked up and became conscious. We decided to admit her to LRH, so I accompanied her in the ambulance (inappropriately dressed as I was). I kept tabs on her over the years and, to my relief, ascertained that she had normal mental and physical development.

"In another rather unusual situation, I was asked by a Neurosurgeon to fly out to the Maldives", to accompany a French Tourist who had had a black out, with a suspected ICH, keep her overnight in the ICU at SJGH, till they organised the Swiss Air Ambulance to take her back to her homeland. So again, I had to accompany the patient with airway equipment on the ready from the Maldives to Sri Lanka and hand her over to the Air Ambulance crew the next day.    

As most of you know, I had a fall in June 2018 and needed a left Total Hip Replacement. I had always had cars with manual gears, but found it difficult to drive after my surgery, so I bought a Toyota Vitz with automatic gears, which is so easy to drive, though it is a much smaller car than I’ve had before.

"Though I’ve had several rides in ambulances, I never bargained that I would be a patient needing Ambulance transport one day". In 2021, I slipped and fell heavily on my operated hip and dislocated my prosthesis. The pain was excruciating, and I just had to lie on the floor till the ambulance came. When the ambulance crew found my BP to be 200/180, they were alarmed and wanted to take me to Colombo South Teaching Hospital, which is only about a 10-minute drive away. I managed to persuade them to take me to SJGH, which is like my second home. I only needed an MUA, though, unlike the first time, I now have a slight limp and a dull ache in my Left hip towards the end of the day. But I can still drive, and I am so happy to be able to help with the transport of the grands, particularly to STC which is so close. 

"However, I’ve given up driving after dark except in an emergency like last month". Shaan gave me a frantic call from the Lionel Wendt Theatre at 6.50 pm asking me to bring in a prop he had left behind - a milk can which he needed to sit on at the start of the song “If I Were a Rich Man” from “Fiddler on the Roof”. The show was due to start at 7.30 pm. I just leapt into the car and drove as fast as I could, praying that I won’t meet with an accident as there was heavy traffic at that time, and praise God, I managed to get to LWT by 7.25pm!

Suri