REUNION RECOLLECTIONS - Kumar Gunawardane

REUNION RECOLLECTIONS

Kumar Gunawardane

The first reunion I attended was in 1992, the twenty-fifth anniversary of our release from the hallowed but restricted haunts of Kynsey Road. My onetime Bloem roommate K (Kumar aka Con) Bala, who was also one of the organisers, invited me to talk on Cardiology Down Under. It was scheduled for the afternoon of the symposium, the pretext for what was really a fete for buddies and comrades. 

The preceding speakers, without exception, had exceeded their time limits, and Mahen asked me to drop my piece de resistance; perhaps a blessing in disguise, as it may have averted the spectacle of both the speaker and the audience falling asleep simultaneously. I rushed off to bed to catch up on sleep in preparation for the bacchanalian fiesta which was to follow. On the way, I was treated to the spectacle of a colleague’s unsuccessful attempts to open his room door. An analogue of the opening scene of Charlie Chaplin’s masterpiece “Limelight”; the inebriated Calvero (CC) fumbling with his front door lock. 

The summer of 1997 was good; a real summer disputing the calumny that the English winter ends in July and begins in August. The sun shone, the sky was blue with wispy white clouds, and migrant birds twittered in Regent’s Park. The afternoons were long and the evenings cool. Kanthi, her mother and I had arrived for a sojourn in London well before the Reunion to be followed by a tour of Scandinavia. The ladies enjoyed shopping in Oxford Street to the full while I went sightseeing. We had a good look around Windsor too, as we stayed a couple of days there with a good friend. 

The festivities started with a dinner dance. An unusual feature was the separate party for the youths of whom there were many, the offspring of our colleagues. A standout figure was the rotund Razaque whose daughter’s special birthday coincided with our celebrations. He wore a Scottish Highland dress complete with kilt, sporran, hose and flashes, provoking many bawdy comments. The girls looked glamorous in gorgeous sarees, and men were smart and elegantly attired; all seemed untouched by the passage of years. I recall a witty and humorous speech by Ranjith Dambawinna which evoked not only uproarious laughter but also embarrassed giggles. He was particularly savage on some of his close mates in the nicest possible way. The night merged with the trembling dawn before we crawled to our beds drained but joyous. 

The next day we trooped to the seminar as duty had to prevail. The lectures were scholarly, but mostly floated over our befuddled heads. 

There was boundless joy in catching up with old friends, particularly those who had been at school with me like Bora. Both of us had come together to England too and started working in the same hospital. Somehow the anecdotes sounded much better in the retelling; another advantage was that disagreeable memories were either forgotten or very deep in the psyche. There were, of course, newfound friends no less precious. 

The dinner dance on the second night was glittering. Our table had Bora and Harshi, Swyrie and Ken Balendra and the three of us. The conversation was brilliant, the food delicious, the wine free-flowing, and the music melodious. Those who could dance swayed gracefully to the music, but everyone took to the floor when the ‘baila’ session began. 

There were poignant moments too.It was the last time I met our divine confrere Sue R. As always, she was gracious and ethereal. When we hugged goodbye, she remarked wistfully that the Colombo years were a blank, due to the trauma of moving away from Peradeniya. 

It was also the first and last time I met Chandrasiri, since the ‘great dispersal’ of 1962. He had been sponsored by some colleagues for achieving the distinction of becoming the acting Vice-Chancellor of Ruhuna University. Bora and I have previously detailed our close association with him in our final year. This time, however, the emotion was dispassionate. 

My Galle internship mates Chitra and Dharmini were captivating in stylish saris. We hadn’t met since our “leus annees de gloire” in the hamlet of Mahamodera. Chitra had become an acclaimed obstetrician and gynaecologist in NewYork. Her talents were perceived early by our chief, Dr Wilfred Perera; she also benefited from my spraining a wrist, which kept me out of the operating theatre. 

The chief guest was Professor Nandadasa Kodagoda, who lectured to us about forensic medicine and went on to become Professor and Dean of the Faculty of Medicine and eventually Vice-Chancellor of the Colombo University. He hailed from Hikkaduwa, the town which produced our own Lucky Abey. 

The professor in our time was the genial, elegant and eloquent H.V.J. Fernando who succeeded the foundation professor G.S.W. De Saram, a giant in his field.

The latter’s most famous case was the Sathasivam murder trial where his evidence was challenged by Sir Sidney Smith who had mentored him in Edinburgh. Kanthi and I were lucky to make the acquaintance of his wife during a long rail journey to Ella. She invited us along with my brother and his wife to high tea at her holiday cottage there. The charm and sophistication of bygone generations arouse a winsome nostalgia. 

All good things must come to an end, and we made our tearful farewells, promising to keep in touch and meet again sooner rather than later. I too resolved to engage as much as possible in future reunions. 

More of those later.

Note from Speedy.

The first two photos were sent to me by Srianee (Bunter) and the third by Kumar.

And some of the souvenir pages from my post on our Blog, "Batch Reunion in 1992 held at Windsor Holiday Inn in England". Link to the post is, https://colombomedgrads1962.blogspot.com/2014/04/batch-reunion-in-1992-held-at-windsor.html#comment-form