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Nimal Mendis Interview Part 2
The European Kandyan drummers on the BBC

by Sujeewa Niwunhella
The music for the Godking was recorded in the best film music recording studio. We used an orchestra of a little over fifty pieces. It was the most daunting commission I ever had and at the time frightening, and I worked with a man called Larry Ashmore who did the orchestration. It was purely a coincidence but he was the same man who was in charge of the studio orchestra at the BBC when I appeared on ‘Top of the Pops’ in 1968. You know in the perahera scene, I was told that I will be allowed four English drummers and I had to get the sounds of so many Kandyan drummers. I worked with a young American drummer that Lester had met. I can’t write for drums so I made him listen to Kandyan drum tapes I had and together we composed the rhythms for the music of the film. In the studio the drummers were playing with their hands, feet and even with their mouth to get the sounds and , when you see the film you think that the drumming is actually played by Kandyan drummers. Similarly I had to get a chorus of 8 singers to get the chant for the last battle scene. Tha ne na tha ne na ne tha ne ne na na................

So here again were these Englishmen singing Sinhala words. It took a little time but I taught them how to get the intonation of the Sinhala sound and they eventually did it well. The day that the theme was being played and recorded the owner of the studio came down from his office upstairs and was listening to it in the control room. The engineer later told me that it had never happened before. You know films like Sound of Music and West Side Story were recorded there. This was really a great thing to hear and a wonderful encouragement for me and later when I told my nephew Savindra who was living with me at the time in London as we were listening to the theme "How did I come to write this kind of tune that is so Sinhala and eastern, here in London". He replied "You did not write it here. It was written 35 years ago when you were a child roaming up in Girihagama in the hills of Kandy". I think he was correct. We in our pride say that these things are ours but its not. We hear these sounds and they come out from time to time in different forms. It is from God’s universe that it comes and we are like radio receivers. People get so proud to think that they have written this or that but if you see this logically there is no room for pride.

I write my songs in English and somebody translate them for me. Those days Augustus Winayagaratnam translated and also wrote some of the words to my melodies. Augustus a Tamil man with a poetic command of the Sinhala language. He and I had an instant rapport. I did not have to struggle to write songs with him. I guess this is also because of his knowledge of the English language and a sensitivity that arose from the total respect for each other, as artistes. In my experience of writing songs with others I will rank Augustus first for this kind of team work then it would be I think Gamini Wijeytunge and Somi Sekerama.

After I did the Ran Tikiri cassette I did another one Nil Diya Rella for Saman Kumbukage. He was a sitar player. Now he is a big businessman. I preferred if he stayed as a sitar player and did more music but who am I to judge. Being just a sitar player is a dicey profession, a struggle to survive. Musicians and singers always have a struggle to survive unless of course you rise to be like the stars in the West or India who make millions.

The Song ‘Vyo Gee’ in the film Gehunu Lamai, you know that lyric was written by a complete unknown. He is still not known for that at all. He was the attendant who looked after my father when he was sick and laid in bed after several heart attacks. He worked for the family for several years. He also worked for me from time to time at the farm. He is a very loyal chap and still lives in my sister’s house although he works outside for some organisation. We call him Camilus. That is his first name. I am not sure of his surname. He is from Ja-Ela.

If I talk about Vijaya’s singing in Ganga Addara, of course I knew Vijaya earlier and he was a friend, and I had heard I think a song sung by him. I think he had sung another song earlier. However I liked his voice. It was deep. Almost a bass voice and the speaking voice impressed me always. When I knew that he was taking the part of the doctor in the film and the major role I told Sumitra that he must sing the song. She was quite apprehensive about it and as the Director of the film she had the prerogative to decide but she did agree for me to try him out. I remember the first time I went to see him with the song. I had just finished writing it with Augustus. My wife Ranjani and I went to Rosmead Place. He was living there then. This tape recorder here is the one that we used to record his voice with me strumming the guitar. Do you know that he had a very good musical sense. I just went through the song once with him and he immediately sang it right through. There was no mistake, no hesitation and in fact you know in this new batch of songs that I have written I have included this original by Vijaya. In fact this version has in the last lines words that were changed for the film version. I have a nice photograph of Vijaya, Sumitra and myself listening to the song in the control room after he had recorded it. You know of course how popular that became. My faith in Vijaya as a singer triumphed.

What a tragedy for our country that Vijaya was assassinated. You know many people don’t know this but when I wrote the song "Me Gini Ai Amme" or the English version which I call "Hurt" I thought of Vijaya first. I had written this for the documentary that Ranjani and I did for the Centre for Society and Religion. It was all about the North and East - an anti war film. I must tell you this story. The day I finished this song I told Ranjani this is a song for Vijaya and he should hear it. I was going to the Centre to do some work and when I had just past Kanatte cemetery I saw Vijaya in his car going past in front of me. I shouted and tried to hail him but he did not hear me. Returning back from the Centre at midday, the same thing happened at the same spot. He did not hear me again. The next day I thought that I will go to see him at his house and as I was approaching Polhengoda road I saw Chandrika on the main road, on top of the lane. I stopped the car and asked her if Vijaya was in and I told her about the song. She told me that he was filming and to phone him the next day, early, before he goes out. When I went home I told Ranjani to do this as I too had to go out that morning. That night I forgot to ask her if she had phoned and I think we both forgot to do it because of pressure of work. Two or three days later when I was at the Centre Ranjani phoned me and said that she had some tragic news. Vijaya had been assassinated. I was in complete shock that day and we always live with the thought why fate did not let him hear me when I hailed him near the cemetery. Could things have been changed or was fate trying to tell me something else.....near the cemetery?

Song "Me Gini Ai Amme" was written for a video documentary we made called ‘Dawn of Terror’. This was in 1987 and that was a turning point in our lives and my career too. Ranjani and I had earlier gone and learnt video production and made this film as I said for the Centre for Society and Religion which was run by Fr. Tissa Balasuriya. My sister Bernadeen Silva is a Director there. Together with them we filmed in the North just after the Peace Accord had been signed. The making of that filming is a story and a long one at that, but it started us off as Video Documentary makers and although we made the film on VHS we got a two page spread on the making of the film in the foremost Independent Video Magazine in Britain. It is also distributed by Concord Video and Film a educational distributor. We were involved with a number of BBC documentaries and we made our own film "Shattered Pearl" in 1991 for Channel 4 in England. Our work has been at many film festivals. One film "Three Women Speak Out" was shown at the United Nations. In "The Dawn of Terror" we concentrated on the anti war aspect, "Shattered Pearl" was on the right to life, and "Three Women Speak Out" on the Freedom of Opinion and expression. In fact we made that film for Article 19. Many people are not aware that we have done all this. I think we have an extensive library of archive material of the twenty years was in Sri Lanka. We have material of Bangladesh and South India too. Andrew Jayamanne and Channa Deshapriya were the cameramen we used. I filmed too. We have been listed in the British Film Institute Directory as Independent video producers.

Gradually music in my life receded to the background. I was only doing it as incidentals for the documentaries we made. From 1987 to 1998 it was all video documentary. I have now got a little fed up with Human rights, Social justice etc. Nothing is changing in Sri Lanka. Look at it today. Some things have eased but thousands are getting killed still and the internal refugee situation is an indecent scandal on the pages of our history, Sinhala, Tamil and Muslim. We have filmed many people in Sri Lanka who are now dead like Charlie Abeysekera, Azia, Sam Tambimuttu, Neelan Tiruchelvam and even Thileepen, the LTTEer who fasted to death.

We expected much from this left of centre government but they seem to be worse than the previous regime. The war goes on more ferociously with more Sinhala soldiers killed than ever before. We have a very good Corporal friend on the war front. He drives a tank and writes to us regularly. There is poetry in his letters. May be I will write a song about him. Recently we have not heard from him. We wonder if he is still alive.

Talking about the previous regime in Sri Lanka it is always talked about the ‘Beeshanaya’ and ‘Dooshanaya’ that existed, but people forget that they did have to contend with two insurrections. In the same vein then we must not forget to talk about the Beeshanaya and Dooshayana of the JVP and LTTE. I have been reading the Sri Lankan papers recently. Minister Mahinda Wijeysekera, who incidentally we interviewed some time back and who was a former JVPer is brave to tell the truth. It is the UNP that have lost out on the cream of its politicians through assassination and I think that this has not been analysed and researched properly. I wonder if our people will ever get to know the truth. Ranjani and I, and hopefully our son Paulmarie in the future will not take sides politically. We stand for truth and for justice but Sri Lanka is steeped in hypocrisy and opportunism.

It will be good to have someone with a sense of humour as our President and someone who can harness the talent in our country irrespective of ethnicity, creed or political view. Peoples hearts are hardening. Politics have descended down to the lowest common denominator. Terror in the country is taking different forms. There is despair amongst the people. I think better than making documentaries we should pray, and pray more, for sanity to prevail and peace to come into the country. I want to write songs again. I am essentially a Songwriter. Music is always effective. With simple songs like Master Sir one can get one’s ideas across. If its a hit it creates a big impact. We are now in the process of making a CD "War in My Country" with music, commentary and interviews.

Kataragama Gangaramaya Pilgrims Rest: it’s free, restful and comfortable

Palatuwe Jinaratana Thero
The Kataragama Gangaramaya Pilgrims Rest is the only such rest in Sri Lanka which large numbers can occupy free. It is situated in close proximity to Menik Ganga along the Kiriwehera Road close to the helicopter pad.

The armed forces and police made use of this place for their religious functions. Foreign diplomats, VIPs and others too make use of its many free facilities.

With the assistance of benefactors the rest has served the needs of tens of thousands from 1986. Development work goes on even now. Over, 3,000 can stay there for a day at any one time. All modern conveniences are available including terrazzo floors.

Over 50 orphans are resident at the rest and attend school. A few elders also live here. It is a very large facility when compared to the Ramakrishna Mission building and away from the town and business centre. Employees of radio, TV and newspapers have made use of this centre. Unfortunately they have not given us the publicity that the place deserves.

Businesses in Kataragama have developed. Sale of liquor is very high. This is the place that gets the highest number of visitors during weekends. Some people try to convey wrong notions about this.

The Gangaramaya Rest does not seek to provide rooms and collect money. That’s a headache for those who are out to make money. Certain elements try to criticise and run down this service as it hits their pockets. Sections of the media also help in this.

Entrepreneurs are very critical of this place as it is a direct threat to their business.

Those who rent rooms and make money should try to improve their facilities and provide better services and not discredit the Gangaramaya Pilgrims Rest.

The Gangaramaya project has helped the residents of Kataragama and given benefits such as free bicycles, mosquito nets, agricultural implements, educational facilities, technical education etc. No one has rendered such a service to these residents. Facilities supplied by other organisations are very poor.

The Gangaramaya Rest is maintained methodically. Sanitary facilities are excellent. There is absolutely no damage to the environment. Workers are taken from Colombo to attend to maintenance work.

The Menik Ganga is polluted from Sella Kataragama onwards. The Gangaramaya Rest does not contribute to such anti social acts. We are determined to serve the public who come to us. We are not in Kataragama for monetary gains.

We invite all from the local authority, health, administration etc to see the work we do. If we are guilty of any anti-social act we are ready to face the consequences. We are not dejected. In a country that does not recognise service we are determined to be of further service.

People and Events
INDIAN KALEIDOSCOPE 3

by Nan
Jodhpur, at the very edge of the Thar Desert, is the second largest city in Rajasthan, the largest being Jaipur. I learned to pronounce the name correctly, giving up my sharp, staccato, phonetic pronunciation. Its Joadthpoor with a soft, very Indian lilt to it.

The son and I were now on our own, the other young ones who toured Udaipur with us having returned to their homes in Ahmedabad. We took bus to Jodhpur from Udaipur at the crack of dawn and dawn as it cracks over there is extra cold. The bus we clambered into - seats booked the previous day and thus no crowding or standing passengers - looked ramshackle, but it was, as we found out completely road worthy and reliable. The ride was fine and once I knew it was OK I dozed off. Not so the son, he observed every bit of passing landscape - mostly the same, as we climbed up, wheezed down and took many, many curves. The driver was very competent; we did not however see anything of him, bundled up as he was.

Everything Alfresco

After about two hours travel, the bus suddenly stopped. I wondered whether it had given way under the strain of the twisting and turning. People got down and the son soon saw why and got down too. A woman from the back of the bus came shyly along and smiled invitingly at me. Getting the message I moved forwards too. My dream of an alfresco easing evaporated when the muffled conductor growled at me. I shuttled back to my seat and had to suffer till the next stop at the whim and fancy of the driver. Maybe the conductor was merely encouraging me to get down but I surmised otherwise.

People live so basically over there. They eat, they pee, they sleep and snore just so naturally with no fuss. It was easy being with them once you yourself learned to live easy.

As I mentioned, Jodhpur is near the desert and so the vegetation got more scrub-like as we proceeded. A little after noon we suddenly saw habitation and then a town and overlooking it and overshadowing it, a vast fort, perched on a long stretch of rocky hill.

Jodhpur

Jodhpur was founded in 1459 by Rao Jodh, a chief of the Rajput clan known as the Rathores. The Jodhpur kingdom spread wide and was known as Marwa the Land of Death. A 10 km wall was built around the city a hundred years later. Parts of it are still to be seen and from the fort one can clearly see where the old city ends and the new begins. From the fort one looks down at the city — blue as blue can be. Almost all the houses and other buildings are painted blue. Traditionally blue signified the home of a Brahmin, but in Jodhpur all houses are blue. Maybe a tradition, and traditions die hard in India. A more prosaic and probably more plausible explanation for the blue is that it acts as an effective mosquito repellent.

The very name Rajasthan evokes colour in one’s mind, Not only are the clothes of its people colourful, but its cities too take on colours. Thus Jaipur is pinky, Jodhpur blue and Jaiselmer golden.

The fort that towers above the city and almost dwarfs it is Meherangarh, sprawling across a 125 metre high hill. It is striking, it is stupendous, it is breathtaking. It is still run by the Maharajah of Jodhpur as a tourist attraction with a winding broad entrance along which sit musicians and sellers of goods. The road from the city is also winding and 5 kms long.

Sati Pooja

The fort has seven gates which include Jayapol built by Maharajah Man Singh in 1806 after his victory over Jaipur; the Fatehpol, or Victory Gate, erected by Maharajah Ajit Singh to commemorate his defeat of the Mughals. The gate through which tourists usually enter is the Lohapol, or Iron Gate, beside which are 15 handprints. They are poignant since they are sati prints — self immolation marks left by 15 wives of Maharajah Man Singh as they threw themselves on his funeral pyre in 1843. The prints are clearly seen, covered as they are in red powder, a devotional practice.

Inside the fort are a series of courtyards and apartments with exotic names such as Sukh Mahal (pleasure palace) and Phool Mahal (flower palace). A museum houses an amazing collection of elephant howdahs in which the riding Maharajah sat, and miniature paintings, and armoury, palanquins, furniture, cradles and costumes.

Friendly People

It was here that I met the friendliest couple on earth. I was seated and relaxing while the son was looking into every nook and cranny and taking photographs. I noticed and smiled at the couple as they moved down the outward courtyard. Returning, they stopped to ask me from where I was, Questions and answers led to them inviting us to visit and stay over with them. Can you imagine that! We have no time, I said, being in Jodhpur only that day. The wife was from Delhi, visiting her husband recently transferred to a bank in Jodhpur. They were so genuine and so friendly, it gladdened the heart.

I never once noticed curious glances sent our way, neither hard looks. We merged easily, brown as we are but in Sri Lanka I’ve noticed the sharp looks and angry glances shot my way for no reason whatsoever. The fact that the people — tourists and dwellers, city folk and villagers were all so polite with their eyes, and just minded their business and allowed us to mind ours, was striking and very welcome.

Hand Crafts

Jodhpur definitely did not have the magic of Udaipur, nor the elegance of Ahmedabad. It had however tied and died sarees which were amazing. I was reminded by the son that this was a sightseeing tour and not a shopping spree, to which I replied: "I don’t have the money to shop." But saree and jewellery shops and handicrafts drew me like a bee to a nectar laden flower. A shopkeeper near the station showed me bits of material when I asked for tie and dye sarees. I protested and he reiterated he was showing me sarees. Exasperated, I thought he did not know English though he spoke it, until lo and behold, he and his assistant pulled the 3 feet by 1 foot bit of material until it stretched into a gorgeous, gloriously contrasting red and green, white dotted saree. I booked four telling him we’d return in three days and buy the lot. He accepted my word.

Alas! on the day we were again in Jodhpur we could buy nothing since there was a strike and all shops were closed. Luckily there was food to be had and the trains were running. A Muslim had killed a Hindu, probably the nationalities being immaterial in a private squabble, but the rough elements were ever ready to blow each small fracas into a racial crisis. It was reminiscent of the time here at home when a mere scribbled note was sufficient to close towns down completely. That was the cause of mass emigration of sons and daughters at the time. But while we in Sri Lanka had everything closing down due to JVP induced fear psychosis - shops, restaurants, offices and the lot, in Jodhpur, and most likely in other cities too under similar conditions, only the shops close. Even the trouble makers know they should not disrupt official work and more especially the tourist trade.

We did go to an exotic handicrafts shop the day we were first in Jodhpur. I vicariously lived glorious moments of the affluent, looking through the marvellous antique jewellery and the shawls. When looking through their embroidered cushions and shawls, the man offered to show me their expensive collection. I hurriedly said there was no need, since I simply could not afford high prices. He said never mind, just come and see what we have. And that’s when I saw satooshes and the finest of fine wool shawls. I wondered whether the satooshes were really genuine, because when I said a test was to pass them through a ring, he did not volunteer to thus demonstrate their quality. But for me it was enough seeing and feeling them - feather weight but warm and so comfortable to the skin. A heavily embroidered wool shawl cost 25,000 and that is Indian rupees. Again the vicarious delight in seeing a white man looking on as his companion, also white, draped around her shoulders exquisite shawls the salesman displayed. I continued looking. He did buy her one.

Aarati had been raving about nesting elephants. Nesting? Elephants? I discovered they were cleverly crafted wooden or stone elephants with trellised stomachs within which were baby elephants standing facing the tail of the mother elephant. Needless to say it was a mighty lot of carving that went into each elephant, but they were comparatively cheap - about Rs 200 for a small elephants. There were other nesting creatures: tortoises, cross, monkeys, but the elephants were the cutest by far.

Live like the Maharajahs

Umaid Bhawan Palace and Museum is another tourist draw. Built of marble and pink sandstone, it was begun in 1920, designed by the president of the Royal Institute of British Architects for Maharajah Umaid Singh. It took all of l5 years to complete. Surprisingly it was built so near the shaky period of the British Raj when the Maharajahs would surely have known their wings would soon be clipped. It was built to provide employment for thousands of locals during a time of severe drought.

Maharajah Umaid Singh died in 1947. His successor converted part of the palace to a museum open to the public, a major part into a posh hotel, reserving living quarters for himself.

Here ensued a tussle between common sense and frivolity — or was it stinginess against doing in Rome as the Romans do. The son wanted to chase after experience and lunch at the palace hotel. the mother cautioned: the guide book says you have to pay Rs 330, just to enter the hotel, deducted for any food or drink you might take.

And so it was lunch at a more modest place, almost equal to what would have been had at the palace for around 700 per person!

BOOK REVIEW
‘THE ROSE GROWER’
by Michelle de Kretser
Random House - Soft Cover - 303 pages - $ 25.50 (Cdn)

Reviewed by: Kirthie Abeyesekera
Michelle de Kretser was 14 when she left Sri Lanka for Australia, after her primary schooling at Methodist college, Colombo. After obtaining a Bachelor’s Degree in French, and a year’s teaching in Montpellier, France, she got her Master’s Degree in Paris. Two years ago, she took a stroll in Gers in the south-west of France, the centre of the old pre-Revolution’s province of Gascony.

"I loved the sensuous landscape," she writes to me from Melbourne where she lives. "Gentle, green hills, river valleys, flower-filled lanes - and the fact that not many tourists went there, made it seem a remote, secret domain. That sense of a special place stayed with me long after I’d returned to Melbourne, and that was the starting point for ‘The Rose Grower’ - her first novel, also available in handsomely-bound hard cover.

Hot off the presses in England, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and Canada, this is a beautiful story of romance and roses, woven into the historical years of the French Revolution. ‘The Rose Grower’ is said to ‘throw a slanting light on the underside of history, where people find themselves torn between reason and desire, the blood-thirsty revolutionary zeal and unrequited passion.’ It is a deeply moving story of the private world of a family caught in the public events that changed the course of French history.

On July 14, 1789, Stephen Fletcher, an American artist, drops from a balloon in Montsignac, a village in Gascony, and into the life of one of three daughters of the aristocratic, Saint-Pierre family. Sophie, whose passion for growing roses is as intense as her feelings for the American, wants to create a ‘repeat-flowering’ crimson rose - the first of its kind in Europe, at a time in the 18th century there had been a revolution in rose-growing.

Echoes of Dickens’ ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ ring as the Revolution rolls along. The tumbrels trundle traitors away to the ghastly guillotine, as Sophie’s world tumbles. A rose between two thorns, Sophie is trapped between Stephen, the amorous American, and Joseph Morel, a young, working-class, French doctor, torn between heart and head. Joseph’s mission in life is ‘to ease the suffering with which this world is richly endowed’.

"The landscape in that part of France reminded me of Sri Lanka," says the author, in a letter to me. "Not, obviously in the specific vegetation, but in the general sense of lush greenness and abundance." De Kretser, an editor at ‘Lonely Planet Publications’ in Melbourne, says she had no dream of being a publisher herself. But when she took a year’s leave from her job, ‘because I wanted to slow down and live differently, I planned to spend time cooking." Then she went to France. She did gardening, took long walks. Suddenly, the Protestant work-ethic kicked in. That seed of an idea about a novel set there (in Gers), had begun to germinate. Why not write?"

Why roses? Sophie’s ‘longing for love and her obsession with flowers is an expression of her unfulfilled eroticism.’ The author says that, in a general sense, the roses in the novel, suggest the cyclical and seasonal nature of life. In flowery prose, de Kretser takes the reader through gardens laden with ‘scarlet poppies, honey suckles, blue campions; creamy fox gloves and dog roses.’

What effect does her inter (or multi-) national background have on her writing? "I grew up in Sri Lanka not long after the country had achieved independence from British rule," de Kretser says in her letter. "The ripples from that were still spreading, and one effect, in the 1960s and 70s was the implementation of a nationalist policy which meant that English was phased out of schools. This led to the mass emigration of Sri Lankans whose first language was English, which was the case in my family. So I was aware, from an early age, of the effect of history, of large, public events that are beyond individual control on private lives. I think that idea lies at the heart of ‘The Rose Grower.’

Before writing her novel she had edited ‘Brief Encounters,’ an anthology of stories of love, sex and travel. Last year, she won the first prize in ‘The Age’ (an Australian Daily) short story of the year contest.

The reader is kept in suspense, often confused, as to whom the author is talking about, because the identities of the persons comes late in the chapter. Fortunately, the chapters are short. This is a minor annoyance in an otherwise, absorbing story of human emotions - ‘Sophie was bone-tired, but slept badly, roses breaking in on a confusion of dreams.’

The sex scenes are subtle: ‘She began to undo her dress. The wind had risen again. It slithered down the chimney, flung handfuls of flinting rain against his window, slid through the ill-fitting casement. The girl standing in front of him has goosebumps on her flesh. Steps had to be taken. He took them.’

The Revolution is in full swing. The ‘Assembly’ has given way to the ‘Convention.’ ‘Patriots’ are calling themselves, ‘Jacobins.’ The ‘bourgeoisie’ has been branded, the ‘Proletariat’ taking its place. Ladies accustomed to being called ‘Madame’ are now plain ‘Citizens’. Resentment is growing. ‘It is one thing to believe in equality and quite another to fraternise with your footman.’

Dr. Morel moves with the times. ‘I tell people what they want to hear. I prescribe sirloin in rich houses, garlic in poor ones, prayer to the devout and brandy to sinners.’

A gifted writer whose words flow freely in a rich vocabulary, de Kretser’s fluency in French enables her to reach the hearts of people she lived among for many months to bring forth this heart-warming story of human beings in the throes of things beyond their control.

"At the end of the book," de Kretser tells me, "I hope the reader has the sense that despite all the tragedies of the Revolution, life goes on." Her next novel? I’m fiddling around with the idea of a novel set in Sri Lanka...but I can’t say much more, because it’s embryonic at present." Just now, she’s enjoying her work as an editor.

"It’s so much easier to work on other people’s manuscripts."

The Upali I Knew — he was quite a guy

I returned to Sri Lanka in 1979 from an overseas posting and resumed duties at the Foreign Ministry. Shortly afterwards, President J. R. Jayewardene summoned me one morning. I had never met the President and was quite curious as to how he knew of my existence. Minutes after I met, and after the customary exchange of pleasantries, that mystery was solved when the President complimented me on a ‘political report’ on the 1978 elections in the Philippines, which I had copied to a friend, who was a minister in his government (the minister had shared it with the president).

As for the reason for his having summoned me, that too was explained. The President very quickly came to the point. He wanted me to assume duties as Secretary-General of the board of investment or the Greater Colombo Economic Commission, as it was then known. Perhaps some reports on the functioning of the Batan Export Processing Zone in the Philippines which I had sent my minister friend had also been shared with the president.

It was a presidential order and as such I had no option. The Free Trade Zone had been established through an Act of Parliament, which gave it wide-ranging powers-it was not only a Board of Investment but also the local authority for an area larger than Singapore. Even before I joined the institution I was aware that it was the pet hate of the Communists and their newspaper, the’ Aththa’, referred to the ‘Free Trade Zone’- (I don’t know why it was so called instead of calling it the Export Processing Zone-which it was) as the ‘Wahal Kalapaya’ or the slave zone. The newspapers were also full of reports about differences between the flamboyant Chairman and Director General Upali Wijewardena and a particular colleague of his. The ‘tabloids’ also referred to the Prime Minister and the Finance Minister ‘gunning‘ for the chairman. In the circumstances one would understand my own reluctance to accept the appointment, but I was curtly informed that President Jayewardene had in fact made an order and that I had no option.

When I assumed duties Upali Wijewardena was away from the country. We had met once before socially but I did not in fact know him. When he returned from his overseas tour he sent for me — we shook hands and his first words were "you know I was never consulted about your appointment." My response was "neither was I; had I half a chance, I would not have come to the Sarpa Kalapaya. " He laughed (he shook all over when he had a good belly laugh). A friendship was made.

We worked out of the same floor — I was not only the Executive Secretary but he considered me to be his senior executive. Whenever he came to office after a break (he came in regularly when he was in the country — he travelled extensively, but kept in touch on the phone) he called me in for a ‘briefing. On one of those occasions he asked me the following question: "What is the grade a student receives if he makes twenty five mistakes out of one hundred in an examination." The answer was of course obvious -"disto" I said. Upali responded, "Quite. So don’t worry, take decisions — they would come to attention if you make mistakes of over 25% and over."

He had the strength to delegate. He also had the ability to spot talent and was never afraid to give others responsibility. I recall the case of a young man who looked so boyish that I thought him to be a fourth former, whereas he was a graduate of good U.S. university. Upali wanted to post him to an important overseas office-and some of us had reservations. But he said "no, let us try him out," and he certainly delivered.

Upali was considered by some as aloof and arrogant, but those of us who worked with him found him to be quite a genial person, fond of relating anecdotes. He seemed to always want an audience. I recall a particular anecdote, he had applied to Levers -for a single post of management trainee — and after many interviews only two survived and he was one of them. The CEO of Levers, a foreigner, had invited them to lunch at the Galle Face Hotel (according to Upali to test their table manners and social graces). The soup had been served and his competitor had tilted the soup plate towards himself to gather the last spoonfuls. "That was when I knew the job was mine," Upali said.

He never forgot his beginning. He would often recall that he did not have the capital to make his dream of becoming a dollar millionaire at age 40 come true. He would refer to the purchase of a "thachchi" toffee business and remember those who had helped him. One story bears relating. There were four or five persons around the table and someone made a derogatory reference to the late Mr. T. B. Ilangaratne - that was the first time I saw Upali angry - he almost assaulted the man. He said that Mr. Ilangaratne was eking out a bare existence, and that if he had made money in the manner that his political enemies made out. He would not have to depend on the charity of friends to survive.

Upali, the capitalist had many socialist friends—one of whom was Sarath Navana of the LSSP who edited the party paper.

He was of course quite ambitious and often made his ambitions known to his ‘audience’. This I believe was the cause of his undoing. He made more enemies than friends, and his enemies were very powerful persons. The High Posts Committee of the House had not cleared the members of the GCEC even by the end of 1979 (they had been appointed in 1978). When the hearing finally came around, rivalries within the commission were not as bitter as they had once been, old wounds had been healed, and we expected the commission to have a smooth crossing. But that was not to be -Prime Minister Premadasa hated the very sight of Upali and, it was said by those present, tore into Upali from the word ‘go’ and had at one point referred to his retinue.

The SUN newspaper had reported a story of how Upali’s helicopter had been used to take supporters to Kamburupitiya. Upali, who had no respect for Premadasa had snapped back "yes, of course we look after those who work for us and this is in the best feudal tradition - something which you will not know anything about". The High Posts Committee of course found Upali unsuitable. It was quite ironical that the High Posts Committee, which found a draftsman who had only ‘relative merit’ (he was an immediate relative of Premadasa), eminently suitable to be our Ambassador in Sweden, found Sri Lanka’s foremost industrialist and venture capitalist, unsuitable to be head of the Board of Investment; and not because they perceived any conflict of interest.

What had indeed become a huge joke did not end there: the findings of the High Posts Committee created by President Jayewardene had absolutely no effect. President Jayewardene had told Upali that it was he who had appointed him and therefore there was no need to step down! Those were the days.

President J, though he stood by his kinsman on that occasion, let him down badly on another. The Kamburupitiya seat in Parliament had fallen vacant - and Upali, who hailed from Kamburupitiya staked a claim. He considered himself as the obvious choice. President Jayewardene had confirmed that he would be nominated. Upali summoned a special meeting of the Board and bid farewell but he was in for an absolute shock. God only knows as to who could have held a gun at JR’s head, but he changed his mind and appointed instead a nonentity from Galle, whose name is now forgotten even by the people of Kamburupitiya. He was said to have been Mr. Premadasa’s nominee.

Despite his other obligations as chairman of the ever expanding ‘Upali Group’ with big business interests in Malaysia, Singapore and the UK, he devoted much time to the GCEC. His style of management to which I have referred to earlier in another context was quite simple: "Don’t bring problems to me. You are paid to take decisions. If you wish to consult me on solutions bring your solutions across and we can discuss them".

Investment promotion was an area in which he quite naturally revelled. I recall that our Senior Manager Investment Promotion then was the able and dynamic Rohan Weerasinghe now high up at Bartleets. Rohan did the legwork and the result had to be of the highest professional standards — Upali never compromised on standards when it came to work and never entertained excuses.

The promotion team led by Upali travelled to the US, the UK and Australia for presentations. Incidentally the chairman did not charge the government travelling expenses, though he travelled first class and stayed in suites in five star hotels. On a number of occasions questions were asked in parliament, on the instigation of his enemies, about the amounts spent on business trips. The answers always cited expenditure incurred on account of the rest of us and it resulted in the matter being brought to the attention of the president who put an end to the witch-hunt.

One happening in the US, on one of our trips, bears recalling. We were making our ‘presentation’ (to a major US company) when the president of the company dropped in to spend a few minutes with us and apologize for his inability to be present throughout. He glanced through the CV of Upali, and perhaps noting that Upali had big business interests in South East Asia, told him that their subsidiaries in South East Asia were having problems. He asked Upali a few questions and what happened next was quite amazing. The company president called in a number of his senior management teams to discuss his company’s problems and when it was pointed out that we had a plane to catch to another destination that afternoon, the corporate boss insisted that we be his guests at an exclusive club for dinner that night and fly out to our next destination on his executive jet the following morning.

I recall another interesting incident in Australia in 1981. We had planned investment promotion meetings in Sydney and Melbourne. I had gone ahead of the others to Sydney . When Upali arrived the day before the workshop, I told him of a big horse race that was scheduled for that Saturday and suggested that we stay a day longer and watch it and move on to our next destination. "Why watch it only?", he asked. "No, I must try to have a horse running in it". His intention to buy a horse, I thought, was a joke. But two days later I was having breakfast when he walked in with his entourage and when I inquired where they had all been so early, he said: "We went to buy a horse". He had indeed bought a horse - ‘My Lord Avon’, was its name, and when I casually inquired as to the price paid his answer made me drop my cutlery — 149,000 Aussie dollars! He did things in style.

Upali consulted astrologers; at times he consulted them in a group. They had all told him that his horoscope was very good and that he would be president someday. I presume he believed in this. One afternoon his secretary, came into my office and informed me that the chairman was calling on his line from the Philippines and wanted to speak to me. I took the call. Upali was at the other end telling me that the astrologer’s predictions had come true - he had been elected president of the World Export Processing Zones Association! There he was laughing his guts out. He was able to laugh at himself.

Upali was the only Sri Lankan known in international business circles and his reputation was high in East Asia. He had been featured in many well known magazines including Business Week. When the prestigious Fortune magazine featured him, that certainly meant that he had arrived. But his success was also his downfall. Sri Lankans, perhaps I should not insult the other ethnic groups by lumping them with us in this regard, the Sinhalese often hate to see another succeed. Upali had more than his fair share of enemies and he indeed made his own contribution to building a hate bank. They awaited his fall.

I shall conclude with a story told to me by the late Mervyn de Silva. He had interviewed Upali for a story he intended to send to a foreign magazine. Mervyn had completed his interview and was in the process of gathering up his papers when he had casually inquired as to whether he Upali had a sort of hero. Upali’s answer had shocked him. He had put down his papers and sat down to do new article for his (Mervyn’s) own magazine, the Lanka Guardian. Upali had said that his hero on the Sri Lanka political scene was S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike! Mervyn carried the story in the December 1991 issue of the Lanka Guardian and Upali was asked to resign days afterwards by his cousin the President, Mr. J. R. Jayewardene.

Native son with a world vision

Dr. Sivali H. Ratwatte
Chairman,
Upali Group of Companies.

Looking back over the last ten years which seems like only yesterday I remember most vividly my last conversation with Upali. I was then on a UN assignment in Nepal, that most beautiful but remote of Himalayan outposts, but was in Colombo when he rang from Kuala Lumpur. It was 9 p.m. and the day was Saturday, February 12.

"Will you be my campaign manager if I contest Kamburupitiya or Devinuwara", asked Upali. He was referring to the by-elections which were in the offing, the Members of Parliament of these seats among several others having resigned following their defeats at the Referendum the previous year.

I had no hesitation in answering "Yes".

Then our conversation on the long distance telephone went like this:

"Will the UN agree to give you leave?"

"I shall take no pay leave".

"If the UNP denies me nomination again I shall contest as an Independent. Would you still be willing?"

"In whatever way you hand in your nominations I will be there with you, Upali".

Then came a characteristic parting shot. "If the UN gives you the sack you can take over Upali Newspapers".

By 9 p.m. the next day, February 13, a day after to the hour, Upali was gone.

In the course of the same conversation he also asked me whether on Sunday morning I could meet the President and ‘Pandit’ (UNP Chairman N. G. P. Panditharatne) and see what prospects there were for him obtaining UNP nomination. But Pandit was on circuit in Uda Walawe (he was Chairman of the Mahaveli Authority) while President Jayewardene was at his country home at Kumbalwela.

Upali’s last words were on index of how deeply politics had attracted him. The political bug had bitten him. JRJ was largely responsible for getting him interested in politics. Upali had always stood by ‘Dickie Aiyyo’ through thick and thin. In the lead up to the UNP’s and JRJ’s landslide victory in 1977 Upali’s assistance was considerable.

Politics changed Upali completely. The Upali I knew in the sixties and early seventies cared little for Sri Lankan politics. His only contact with politicians was to obtain an import licence or seek approval for a new industry. There was no other way in that era of controls. I am not sure whether he knew of the intrigues and manipulation that goes with politics and deliberately kept away or whether he by instinct was not interested in this profession.

His interest was mainly business both locally and internationally. He had visions which were global in scale — a trading office in New York, presiding over board meetings in London and producing commodities in Malaysia.

He had a human side to his personality. Even in his business dealings the human side dominated. And initial grim determination to effect a deal was often tempered on hearing of how adversely it would affect some person or other.

One story related to me by Upatissa Hulugalle concerns the take-over of Ceylon Chocolates Ltd., which he acquired in 1970 from his maternal uncle Sarath Wijesinghe. The G. M. of the factory of Kundasale was a Burgher gentleman. This person coming to know of Upali’s interest in CCL resented a "puppy" coming into to be his boss. He had remarked that he would buy Ceylon Sugar Co. (Upali’s first industrial venture) "before that fellow could touch CCL". Of course there was no question as to who took over which.

After the purchase of CCL shares was completed Upali sent Murugiah and Upatissa to take charge of the factory and dispense with the services of the General Manager speedily, paying him what was statutorily required to be given only. However Upali received on emotional appeal in writing from the wife of the G.M. This moved him so much that he asked Murugiah to pay the man whatever he wanted and also to give him a car so that he could maintain his life-style as before.

He built two houses for two of his faithful who had worked with him in the difficult early days of business. These were built on land in an exclusive residential area gifted to him by his grandmother. Of these two, Peter Kudupitiya helped Upali to fit up the machinery for the production of sugar candy in his ancestral home at Sedawatte, his first business venture. Upali read the manual in English and translated into Sinhala and Peter, the first time he had set his eyes on such a machine, fitted up slowly but surely.

He ran his companies with a small staff but treated each and everyone like a family member. A wedding or a death of a relative of an employee saw him help lavishly.

In the late sixties and early seventies Upali was a frequent visitor at our home in Borella. He was reaching new heights in the international world of business. In Sri Lanka although it was an era of controls he had assembled a Japanese car until the government stopped it. Rodios were assembled and commodity trading in rubber was very remunerative. He had a small circle of friends who he associated with frequently while avoiding the cocktail circuit.

At least three times a week he would telephone us and ask whether he could drop in at home on his way home after office. He would normally work till late in office with a small staff. On days he dropped in at our residence he would leave office at 5.00 p.m. This was well known amongst his office staff too.

My wife knew what he liked to eat. A plate of sandwiches and a plate of cheese toast, or an oven-hot love cake would vanish in a few minutes. Talking with him was an experience. He would tell us how he handled his business problems. A solution seemed inevitable although the problem looked insurmountable at the beginning.

In those days and even much later Upali had a simple guideline. "To spend one rupee you must earn to rupees". In the early days he always travelled economy and stayed in cheap hotels. It was much later that he graduated to first class and the Hilton chain. This was long after he became Chairman of Grand Central Investment Holdings Ltd., a sterling company that owned 29,000 acres of tea and rubber land in Ceylon, as this country was known then. He enjoyed visiting estates and admiring the beautiful scenery from the luxury planters’ bungalows. On one occasion I was holidaying with my family in the Castlereagh circuit bungalow when he paid a surprise visit from Colombo to take us to Adam’s Peak Estate and admire the view of Sri Pada.

He liked to live comfortably but not in opulent luxury. He never drank alcohol but smoked incessantly puffing harder when he was thinking over a problem.

His contribution to the Greater Colombo Economic Commission as its virtual creator together with JRJ and Gamini Dissanayake are inestimable. JRJ made the correct decision in putting him at the helm because he was a businessman and knew how to talk to investors in the kind of language they understood. It is no secret that Motorola decided to pull out, after buying two acres of land in Katunayake for a project that would have given employment to 2,000 initially, because Upali had by then resigned as head of the G.C.E.C.

I regretted his entering into the foul game of politics because I knew of the opposition in his own party to him. He was feared by a few but wanted by many.

On one occasion when I was on a visit to Colombo he requested me to ask JRJ why he was delaying his appointment to the working committee of the party. JRJ told me, "let him disassociate himself from the newspapers and then I will appoint him". This Upali was not prepared to do and so it was.

I sometimes wonder whether it was not the frustration resulting from the denial of nomination of contest two by-elections at Kamburupitiya and Kalawana that pushed him into starting Upali Newspapers. Whatever that may be it was a very courageous step in the teeth of Opposition. He acknowledged the assistance given by Anandatissa de Alwis and Sarath Amunugama with of course JRJ’s blessings. The latter obviously later regretted this decision.

The "Divaina" and "The Island" are his finest contributions to this country and it is upto those left behind to carry on these two independent dailies, so dearly loved by the right-thinking fair-minded people of this country.

Perhaps if he had not launched these newspapers he would still be amongst us.

"May he attain Nibbana"

This article first appeared in The Island of February 13, 1993

Sri Lankans of the century
Entrepreneur born to succeed...

by Sumadhu Weerawarne
Upali Wijewardene, until his death on 13 February, 1983, seemed one born for success. He lived his life with great panache - a whiz kid, sharp, quick-witted, and highly-skilled. Wijewardene, it is said, had divided his life into three parts: the first 20 years were for his education; the second, for business; and the third, for politics. In an interview, he even said that he would "be willing" to become president of Sri Lanka, some day. He was one without restraint, and he was confident to the extent of being egotistical. But, he carried off his act with consummate skill, wit, and perhaps, even an element of luck.

The first 20 years he spent educating himself. Its culmination was a degree in economics, with a second-class honours from Cambridge. On his return to Sri Lanka, he joined the Lever Brothers Group: but left two years later, under rather dour circumstances. Wijewardene, always purposeful, was setting his sights on higher climes. Of course it was a gamble. But to one who seemed to breeze through life, it was merely its due course. In 1963, at the age of 23, he bought a bankrupt confectionery factory. This was his first step into business. It was not smooth-sailing at first, but with a lot of lubricating in the form of a costly promotional contest, he got the project off the ground — and Delta toffees continue to this day.

Thereafter, Upali Air, the nation’s first domestic airline, got off the ground - thanks to a 20-seater Twin Otter plane. This company has long ceased to exist. In 1970, he made his second inroad into the confectionery market. He acquired an interest in Ceylon Chocolates, another struggling sweet factory. In the following year, he bought what turned out be the key to his fortune: a Sri Lankan plantation company, with minor holdings in Malaysia. This gave the restless entrepreneur wings, when it seemed that his had been clipped by very stringent economic controls by the state. It also gave birth to two international companies, Upali Malaysia and Grand Central. Their earnings accounted for more that 80 per cent of the company’s earnings at one time. His rivals and detractors were only too happy to accuse Wijewardene of wheeler-dealing. But he maintained that it was through exploitation of legal loopholes that he attained his success, and never through illegal means.

Upali Wijewardene’s business web was a wide and intricate one, understood by him alone - one where the sibling companies mutually fed and fed, into each other. The Kandos chocolate ventures in Malaysia and Thailand were hugely successful. They concentrated on processing cocoa and selling it first to the European and later to the American market. He sold his produce to such companies as Nabisco, Mars, and Hershey’s. He seemed to have a logic to what he did: he was hedging against losses at the primary estate level, by selling the processed product.

At a time when there were tight controls on imports, Wijewardene commenced his radio-assembling business. He set up the operation with Japanese help, and the profits he recouped were enormous. He had said: "We made as much money in a month, as we did in a year."

Wijewardene’s acuity was displayed in other instances. He circumvented the high-tariff regime on automobiles by arranging assembling kits to be broken up and re-packed as auto spares. Since the latter attracted lower taxes, Wijewardene made a killing.

He was a pioneer, skilfully navigating in the waters of diversification. He was a path-breaker, largely because he was unafraid to gamble. His instincts were for high-risk, high-profit ventures. And, his business acumen saw him successfully through it all.

The two decades that he had set aside for business had brought him success. He was a millionaire before he was 40. His next goal was political success, about which he was very open. When Upali Newspapers was set up, it was speculated that he was laying the ground for his political career. He was viewed, in some quarters of the United National Party, as one seeking to bulldoze his way into politics. He was seen as a political protege of his cousin, the former president, J. R. Jayewardene. Of Upali, President Jayewardene wrote on his 15th death anniversary: "His success was due to various reasons. As far as I could understand, he had studied the methods adopted by modern businessmen throughout the world. He watched international market trends and took calculated risks on investment. To him, the sky was the limit in everything." He opined that his cousin had not agreed to contest the Kamburupitiya seat at the 1977 elections. "I thought it was a mistake, because he would then become a member of parliament and a minister and would have had a foot on the political ladder." But it was never to be. His only foray into public office was as Chairman of the Greater Colombo Economic Commission.

Upali Wijewardene’s life ended in 1983: his plane carrying him to Colombo simply disappeared, leaving thousands to ponder on what may have been...

Lanka monthly digest

Appreciation
Late Adigar Naganather

Twenty five years ago, this month, pessed away one of the colourful personalities of Ceylon, Adigar A. Naganather, C.B.E., J.P. U.M. It is in the lives of citizens like the late Adigar that we discern the earliest examples of lofty ideals and simple habits, on which so much emphasis has been laid by our leaders from Independence to date. He wore the mantle of aristocracy as he wore his shawl with ease, without pomp or ostentation.

No home was too humble for the Adigar to visit and no worthy cause was too small to have his blessings and unstinted support. This rich and exemplary life lasted a record span of 103 years, at which age, 25 years ago he died in retirement in his native village of Kopay, Jaffna.

His career as a Guarantee Shroff, perhaps the most prestigious financial post in those days, commenced in 1877 with the Oriental Banking Corporation and the New Oriental Banking Corporation. In 1892 the Adigar pioneered the establishment in the Upcountry of the first of the existing British banks (or their successors) in Sri Lanka, namely the National Bank of India Ltd., Nuwara Eliya.

Significant

It is significant in the context of the endeavours made today to establish a dialogue between the Sinhalese and Tamils for national unity that Adigar Naganather’s feeling of fellowship and friendliness towards the Sinhala people was reflected, among other things, in the unique reception given him in Jaffna on the occasion of his being conferred with the title of Adigar of the Tamils, when the Diyawadana Nilame of the Sri Dalada Maligawa, Kandy, at that time, and a troupe of Kandyan dancers made a special trip to Jaffna to join in the reception to the new Tamil Adigar.

Much of what we talk of today as ideals was part and parcel of the lives of men of the calibre of the late Adigar.

W. Thalgodapitiya,
January’78

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