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People and Events
Wesak thoughts

by Nan
At least a week’s preparation for Wesak has ended today.

Schools, particularly those in the smaller towns, were Wesak-aware from about mid May and made plans to decorate classrooms and school premises. Almost daily bana preachings were organised this past week and they’ve had their Bakthi Gee and sil campaigns.

A boy who works for a friend of mine collected money from his friends and relatives and the neighbourhood and had his own dansala of soft drinks - no less than Sunquick orange and grapefruit. The desire to give arose in him mightily and so his dansala to quench the thirst of Wesak sightseers.

My group of kalyana mithras wondered what we should do - go on retreat, spend the weekend at the Vipassana Bhavana Centre, or the day at the Narada Centre, or gather together in the home of our usual sil day hostess. An Australian returnee wanted to see kudu and pandals, so we opted to stay in Colombo.

Wesak Cards

The commercialization of Wesak will deflate itself soon, I am certain. Cards will become more appropriate and dignified as people avoid those criticized by persons such as the Ven. Gangodawila Soma Thera. There has to be consumer resistance, as advocated by the venerable monk. He mentioned heart shaped cards which I suppose is a crib from Va1entine’s day cards. I don’t approve of the picture of Buddha statues on cards either, because one normally throws received cards away and one is faced with a quandary: collect, throw or burn those with the face of the Buddha. The first option is near impossible, the latter almost sacrilegious and thus impossible to carry out. I give mine over to my domestic for distribution among her nieces. I close my mind to their eventual fate. What cards should carry, if they must carry a picture, is say a lotus, a bo leaf or even the bo tree, with a Wesak moon above, Sinhala art motifs too are fine, and pictures of stupas, but my goodness not faces and forms of screen stars. My favourites are of Ruwanweliseya and murals of the Kelaniya temple walls.

The monk mentioned Wesak cakes and laughingly asked in his inimitable manner whether Wesak is being converted to a Christmas like celebration. Anything for novelty that could rake in the shekels! Keep Wesak apart from consumerism and commercialization was his advice and we strongly support it. Don’t drag Wesak into the open market.

Time was when the clay pahana took pride of place. Its low cost, its simple charm, its flickering light were symbolic of the occasion celebrated. Buddhism advocates simplicity and the natural. The light of the pahana is symbolic of the dispelling of ignorance by the Buddha Dhamma and also of life’s insubstantiality and impermanence and subjugation to the vagaries of fortune of human life. Just as the wick is lit and grows from a faint light to a steady one, only to be buffeted by winds and finally blown off with much of its length remaining, or burning itself out completely, humans grow from weak infancy to strength and are subject to death, either prematurely or in the fullness of time.

The Spirit of Wesak

We are, as Buddhists in Sri Lanka, becoming more aware of the Buddha and his teachings, specially during this season of Wesak. Temples and places of meditative retreat are crowded now, not merely proportionate to the increase in population but because more people are realizing the worth and value of renunciation and quiet reflection on at least this one day of the year.

We are so fortunate in the preachers we have - the venerable monks and the lay people who make clear to us the world of the Buddha, relating it to our lives and livelihood. No longer are bane preachings merely esoteric or learned. Even at funerals praise of the dead is minimised so as to concentrate on the living, to exhort them to work on their own salvation with no further delay. Monks are humane beings who one can sit and chat with, of course with due deference. Some take it upon themselves to almost crusade to purify us of stains that we’ve discoloured ourselves with. How many Buddhists go to Kataragama and miss paying their respects to Kiri Vehera? How many go to temples to spend more time at the devales, asking for favours, for protection? How many look at the Bo tree and ask for good fortune, success at exams and good health for themselves and their families, forgetting to venerate the noble tree as having given shelter to the Buddha as he sat down determined to get to the truth of the unsatisfactoriness of life and the relentless samsaric cycle?

The Ven Soma Thera has opened many an eye. He never ever disparages the worship of gods, but says we’ve brought in Hindu mythology to Buddhism for selfish purposes - to get favours, to secure protection. The Devas will do it, if one is moral, so why venerate Hindu Gods?

The Triple Gem

Mercifully I had stopped asking favours if the gods some time ago I find I now do not even pray for the welfare of the soldiers up North when I kneel before the bo tree.

It is hard not to have a prop, a support, something or someone to take over when we can go no further. We are mere mortals. But we do have a refuge, a blessed haven to go to: the Triple Gem. I take my refuge in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha. That is such a source of strength. I have what the Buddha was, said and did to inspire me; his example to follow. The Dhamma is there to reflect on, to instruct, to accept if I see it suits my way of thinking and manner of seeing things. It gives me hope and solace to my mind. The Sangha guides and is ready to help. The Sangha consoles us when we are bereft, accepts what we offer as alms and helps us not to cling to possessions.

As I write I have this wonderful little book in front of me, illustrated in Tin Tin fashion and titled: Settling Back into the Moment: a meditators inspirational guide. I quote the first page and the prologue, hoping it will inspire you as it has done me.

We have all begun
a journey
A journey into our minds.
A journey of
discovery and exploration
of who and what we are.

Taking the first step is difficult,
and in the first days of practice
there is often
restlessness,
or sleepiness,
some boredom,
laziness,
doubts,
and perhaps regret
about getting involved at all.

Keep your eyes
fixed on the
Path to the Top
but don’t forget
to look
right in front
of you.

The last step
depends
upon the first
Watch your footing.

Be sure of the next step
but dont let that
distract you
from the
Highest Goal.

Royal honours its war dead

Royal College will honour those old boys who have laid down their lives for the country in the ongoing war with a monument to be unveiled at 9.30 a.m. on Wednesday (June 2), the school’s Principal, Mr. Lakshman Gomes, and Major General Gemunu Kulatunge, Chairman of the Committee for Commemoration of Old Royalists Killed in Action (COMCORK) announced.

They said that the three service commanders, the IGP and a considerable number of very senior serving officers of the three services and the police are due to attend this function in addition to old Royalists who have commanded the three armed services and the police in the past. Retired senior officers of the services and the police who are also old boys of the schools will attend this ceremony.

The honoured guest on this occasion will be the next of kin and parents of old boys killed in action. The monument built in front of the school hall will be unveiled by a disabled old Royalist officer from the army - the youngest among this group.

The organisers explained that this choice was made to give "pride of place to the gallant men who have sacrificed their mind and body for our mother Lanka.’’

The next of kin of the fallen will thereafter each place a white lotus flower at the base of the monument in memory of their departed loved ones.

The Sri Lanka Navy Band will be in attendance while the Sri Lanka Army will provide the personnel required for ‘vigil’ duties. Additionally, the three services and the police will provide two trumpeters each to sound the last post.

The Royal College cadet contingent and cadet band will be in attendance at the ceremony to provide a guard of honour contingent while the cadet band will provide the musical backing for the college anthem.

Four Old Royalists have at different times commanded the Sri Lanka Army. They are Major General B. R. Heyn, General D. S. Attygalle, Lieutenant General T. I. Weeratunge and Lieutenant General G. D. G. N. Seneviratne.

There have been three Old Royalists Navy Commanders, Rear Admiral Rajan Kadirgamar, Rear Admiral Basil Goonasekera and Vice Admiral Asoka de Silva.

Air Vice Marshal Harry Goonetilleke is the only old Royalist who has commanded the Sri Lanka Air Force while there had been three IGPs from Royal, Messrs. S. A. Dissanayake, Ana Seneviratne and Cyril Herath.

Major General Gemunu Kulatunge chairs the Committee for Commemoration of Old Royalists Killed in Action with Commander (S) Shemal Fernando as secretary. The committee comprises several distinguished Old Royalists including a number of service officers and policemen. The treasurers are two officers of the Sri Lanka Navy, Lieutenant Commanders Vidura Berugoda and Rohitha Perera.

A special publication carrying the names and photographs of the roll of the honour from the three services and the police has been published. Major General Wijaya Wimalaratne who was killed in Kayts in August 1992 is the most senior Old Royalist officer to have laid down his life in this war.

IN MEMORIAM

Solemn the drums thrills Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted.
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They are no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond our islands’ foam.

But where our desires and our hopes profound.
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Oldest living school Cricket/Soccer captain will be 100 on June 4

By Cecil V. Wikramanayake
The oldest captain of cricket and football in any school in Sri Lanka, Frederick Donald Peries, second son of the late Francis Daniel Peries, District Judge, and brother of the late Leslie N. Peries, Superintendent of Police, celebrates his hundredth birthday on June 4, 1999.

If, deo volens, he survives till the end of this year, as all those who know him dearly wish, Donald will be one of those rare persons to have seen three centuries, (the nineteenth, twentieth and the twentyfirst ).

Donald not only captained the Richmond College, Galle cricket team in 1919, but he also captained the college soccer team in the same year — something very few captains can claim to have done.

Donald Peries, who is patron of the Richmond 60 Club, first played for his college in 1916. A photograph of that team, published in the Richmond College magazine of that year, is reproduced here, showing Donald seated at the extreme right. He played for the cricket team in the year following and in 1919 he led the team to a very successful season.

Early records, the college magazines of those years show that Donald was both an excellent bowler as well as an outstanding batsman. In the match against Prince of Wales, College, Moratuwa in 1917 he took 5 wickets for 13 runs, and in the match against Holy Cross College, Kalutara scored 93 runs.

Donald Peries was also captain of the school soccer team, a school prefect, a King’s Scout and a senior Sergeant in the Cadet Corps.

On leaving school, Donald Peries joined the Department of Agriculture where he had a long and distinguished career.

When Donald Peries celebrates his finest century, that played, not on the cricket field, but in the field of life, the Richmond 60 Club will be there in full strength to celebrate with him, bringing with them a birthday cake.

But the cake will not have a hundred candles, as is customary. It would be asking too much of Donald to blow them all out in one breath. So there will be one giant candle representing the hundred years of his eventful life on planet earth.

Donald Peries is a Richmondite of an era when Richmond, established in 1876 by the Methodist Mission on the lines of a famous British Public School, saw an effervescence of cricketing achievements from around 1885.

In the very early years, the team comprised both students as well as some teachers, as was the practice at that time. Masters such as A Reyhardt, E. M. C. Eaton, O. Meurling, J. G. Paranavitana and the Buultjens brothers were, at various times, members of the team.

The Richmond magazines of that period make references to such achievements, as the notable innings victory recorded in the 1888 magazine.

The Richmond Masters Cricket Club was quite famous early in the twentieth century. The club was formed in 1908 and among its early members were E. M. Karunaratne, the famous lawyer of Galle, Henry Mant, the Matale planter and bus magnate, E. F. C. Ludowyke, father of the famous Professor Lyn, B. R. Soertsz, G. R. A. Fernando, Rev. W. J. T. Small and the Father of Free Education, C. W. W. Kannangara.

A match that will always be remembered was the one, in 1910, when the Richmond Masters brought down the colours of one of the strongest club teams from Colombo, the CCC, with a 24 run win. The following year, the Richmond Masters repeated their performance beating the CCC by an innings. In that year, the CCC which was an exclusively European Club, had in their team, the famous England first-class spin bowler W. T. Greswell.

It is apposite here to recall a few more achievements of the early years of Richmond. In 1903 R. E. S. Mendis, one of Sri Lanka’s best bowlers played for the All Ceylon team against the visiting Australians and the MCC team, and took 5 wickets for 15 runs in one match.

B. C. Seneviratne, winner of the Richmond batting prize in 1911, later did well for the Indian Gymkhana against English clubs and headed the batting averages of his club.

Donald Peries, playing under Captain P. S. Thuduwewatte, was perhaps Richmond’s most successful bowler. In 1917, his first year, he took 109 wickets for an average of 5.2 a wicket. This, I believe, is a record that has still to be broken in school cricket.

A match more sensational than the Thomian victory over Royal , now referred to as the "nine runs match" was recorded in 1924 by Richmond. Playing against All Saints College, Galle, who were bundled out for a paltry 8 runs, D. M. Rajapaksa took 4 wickets for 8 runs, while D. A. Abeysekera took five wickets without giving away a single run. How’s that for a record !

R. A. De Mel, a former Mayor of Colombo, while still at school at Richmond, played against Rev. Waddy’s Australian team. And Willie Hewavitarana, who was picked for the combined colleges against a team brought out by Jack Hobbes and Herbert Sutcliff, was, in the opinion of "Razor" Smith, one of the best batsmen of his year.

Other outstanding Richmond cricketers who played club cricket were Henry Mant (Galle CC and Matale), S.A.S.Misso (Galle and P.W.D.), Rajah Mendis (Colts), A. Seneviratne (Notts), Felix L. Adhihetty (Police), Sol. Goonetilleke (SSC) Rupert D. Abeygunawardena (Galle and Kalutara CC), Frank Sirimanne (Galle CC), Marsh Dodanwella (Mercantile) and Harry Young(Kalutara).

Police and scientists cover up trail of killer

By Chittaranjan de Silva and Niresh Eliatamby
Weeks after the disclosure that the University of Kelaniya found as far back as 1993, that the air people breathe in Colombo has some of the highest concentrations of deadly lead in the world, there is still a deafening silence from the officials who chose to bury the report instead of informing the public and taking necessary action.

The worst culprits are the senior police officers who deliberately did not inform the city’s traffic policemen that their blood already contained nearly four times as much lead as is internationally considered safe by scientists.

‘’The report received no publicity because senior police officers in the traffic division didn’t want their men to know how dangerous the situation was. They felt that the policemen would refuse to work, if they knew the truth about the air on our roads," said Hemantha Vithanage, a scientist at the Environmental Foundation Limited, an NGO which supports environmental causes.

However, the fact is that the study was not confined to policemen, but showed alarming levels of lead in school children, motor cyclists, street vendors, and three-wheel drivers, which clearly shows that the police had no right to block the report from receiving any publicity. ‘’The overall study showed very clear evidence of significantly higher levels of lead in blood for the adult population who are exposed to vehicle emission than the control group," the study said. ‘’This investigation further established that the levels of lead in blood in the population under investigation was in the range that could inflict bad effects."

The DIG in charge of the Traffic Division, Camillus Abeygoonawardena, when contacted, declined to immediately comment, saying that he would have to refer to his files on the matter, and that he would only be able to comment in a few days time.

Dr. (Mrs.) Malini Arewgoda, a Senior Lecturer at the Department of Chemistry of the university, who led the team which conducted the study, is currently abroad, and was not available for comment.

The study, titled ‘’Assessment of blood lead levels of the population exposed to vehicle emissions," was conducted by the University of Kelaniya team, and was funded by the Natural Resources and Environmental Policy Project (NAREP), and the International Resources Group (IRG).

Both the University of Kelaniya and NAREP are funded with public money, while IRG was a group of consultants.

The fact that senior traffic policemen were aware of the study, is beyond question. At the end of her study, Dr. Arewgoda actually expresses her sincere thanks to several officials ‘’for the assistance given" to complete the work.

They include then DIG (Traffic) D. Perinpanayagam (now retired), then Director-Traffic Police) C. Abeygoonawardena, and SSP-Traffic G. Karunatilleke for ‘’organising the traffic policemen, street vendors and three-wheel drivers for sampling," and the OIC’s of Cinnamon Gardens, Wellawatte and Borella police stations for their kind cooperation."

The study notes that scientific studies carried out recently had indicated detrimental effects in people who had lead concentrations in their blood as low as 10-15 micrograms of lead per deci-litre of blood.

But the study found that almost all the categories it looked at had lead levels higher than this.

Traffic policemen’s blood had an incredible 53.07 micrograms. Three-wheel drivers had 15.12 micrograms, street vendors had 12.59 micrograms, and motorcycle riders had 11.97 grams.

School children in Year 4 and Year 5 of Nalanda College had 5.07 micrograms, which is alarming.

‘’Lead is a chemical which collects in the blood, so having such a high level in 10-12 year-old children is extremely bad. We don’t know how high the levels will get as they grow older," said Vithanage.

‘’The traffic police showed an extraordinary high level of Pb (lead) in their blood," the study noted.

Lead gets into the air mostly through the exhaust fumes of vehicles using fuel which contains lead. In most developed countries, leaded fuel is banned, and all fuels are ‘’unleaded."

‘’Lead particles remain suspended in air for a long time before settling. Thus people can breathe the lead directly, or through the polluted dust in the air, or from crops in which the lead has settled, the Kelaniya study notes.

Sri Lanka has no laws or regulations at all regarding lead in fuel. Normal 2-star petrol contains lead. The Ceylon Petroleum Corporation introduced unleaded petrol several years ago, but priced it at Rs. 55, five rupees higher than normal petrol.

With very low sales of the more expensive fuel, even the number of petrol sheds selling it were cut drastically last year.

However, in the only response to the revelations of lead levels in our blood, the CPC on Thursday announced that they would be reducing the unleaded price by two rupees. This is still higher than the normal petrol.

‘’We want to popularise unleaded fuel because it causes less environmental pollution," said Lakshman Samarakoon, Deputy Marketing Manager of CPC.

This move from the CPC actually provides damning evidence that public pressure, especially in the media, was required before the corporation would act in this matter. This clearly shows that covering up the research was exactly the wrong thing to do.

The CPC itself was aware of the study in 1993, but did nothing until this week, six years later.

The study acknowledges the contributions of three CPC officials, D. Chandrasekera, Refinery Manager, Cyril Suduwella, Chief Chemist, and Wijeratne, Technical officer of CPC.

Whether all these officials actually received copies of the report is not known. But this is immaterial. Each of them was aware that such a study was being done, and should have gone out of their way to get a copy of it from the researchers. In fact, it would have been part of their official duty.

The fact that the University of Kelaniya and NAREP also did not publicise the study is baffling. As academic institutions funded with public money, they must work for the public good, through their academic activities. Conducting the study was laudable, and while publicising studies is not part of their jobs, these academic officials need to reconsider how they must handle such data. Simply sending a copy to even one newspaper would have sufficed.

For example, if a researcher were to find that Colombo’s water supply were poisoned, but Water Board officials wanted them to hush it up, would the researchers comply? The study on lead is a similar situation.

The alkyl lead additives in motor fuels accounts for the major part of all inorganic lead emissions. Over 70% of this is likely to enter the environment immediately after combustion.

Studies have shown that 35% of the airborne lead inhaled by man is deposited in the lungs from where it is absorbed. A major component of the lead absorbed accumulates in the bones and teeth the depositing amount increases every day.

A small component is distributed in the soft tissues including blood. Importantly the exposure to lead is evaluated by the index of the concentration of lead in blood. It has been shown that even a minute quantity of lead such as a microgram of lead per a cubic meter of air would contribute to an elevation of its concentration by 1.0-2.0 micrograms/dl in blood.

The elimination of lead from the body is by way of urine (76%) and sweat etc. Lead in sweat could cause the exfoliation in skin and the loss of hair. When lead affects the central nervous system of children it causes lead poisoning and the disease ‘lead encephalopathay’ results. Some of the dreaded symptoms of this disease little children are exposed to are restlessness, headaches, paralyses and coma etc. Kidneys also are severely affected by lead even to the point of failure

Two Breeds, Apart

By Yuvani Jayawardena
Sri Lanka is a country filled with beauty, indescribable and irreplaceable. Year after year I visit, and each time, I learn more about the island, the people, and their various traditions and cultures. Over the past few months, I spent time in Sri Lanka, researching into the strategies for alleviating malnutrition during an attachment with the Ministry of Sports, Youth Affairs, and Samurdhi, and following this, working as a Sarvodaya volunteer. My experiences in this time exposed me to the other side of Sri Lanka, the "hidden" side that I have always wanted to learn more about.

So many people are living in poverty with the appalling prospect of future misery. And present efforts to eliminate this misery seem so inadequate when one considers how much more could be done. Avoidable deprivation, suffering and death, coexist with affluence in extremes of wealth and poverty.

At one extreme, a branch of society indulges in an extravagant lifestyle. Many enjoy the best of food, wear expensive clothes, and live in five star homes. Yet people talk of life being a continuous struggle. If such is the case, then what about those who are less privileged at the other end of the spectrum? For them, there is a continuous struggle to find enough to eat, to fight disease, and to keep their children alive. Surely therefore these must be the elements that define a struggling existence, and not the strain that some feel on their stretched pockets as a result of a relatively unrestrained way of life?

Selfishness is a powerful force that controls making time, energy, money, imagination, and compassion finite. Imagine that you have a very sick young child. Instead of being happy and lively like the other children, your child is withdrawn, and cries in pain and hunger. Naturally as a caring parent, you do the best that you possibly can to make him/her better. What we perceive, depends on what we want to perceive, and how we perceive it. Does it occur to you, that like your own, there are thousands of other children who are suffering even more? And if it does, then what do you do about it?

I used to think like many others, that the poor rural folk were a contented breed of people. That they ask for nothing, even though in some cases they sleep without a roof over their heads, and with the uncertainty of whether they will have enough money to feed their families the next day. But now I know better.

We all like a clear conscience and so sometimes we make it easy on ourselves, by allowing myth to mask reality. Most people are ignorant about rural poverty, and yet they show no interest in wanting to spend a little time and energy learning more about an area that is otherwise shielded off. Further, disillusions with development failures and a knowing cynicism about ‘where the money goes’ are given as reasons for doing nothing! Excuses. Ever heard of the following old English Proverb:

"What the eye does not see, the heart cannot grieve over"

What we ought to do is analyse the way we learn, think, feel, and act, and see how these might be changed to make things less bad, especially for the more deprived of those who are rural and poor. So much needs to be done, so much more radically, that no estimates, however optimistic could undermine the case for trying to do much more, much better and faster.

Sometimes we say that the poorer rural people must help themselves, but this trapped as they are, they often cannot do. The initiative in enabling them better to help themselves lies with the people who have more power and resources and are neither rural nor poor.

So there are government programmes, voluntary/non-governmental organisations, and various research projects that seek out those who are underprivileged, and address these problems. But what about the rest of us? Have we thought about how we as individuals could make a contribution?

And so the purpose of this article, a call to all who read it, to change the way we think, and the way we live, for at least one moment, to put the last first, in thought and deed. However small or insignificant it may seem, help where you can and don’t forget: A powerful waterfall starts with only one very small drop of water.

f
Wiles and Guiles of the ‘pavement vultures’

By Suresh Perera
The wiles of men are at its worst on the pavements of Colombo.

Scores of innocent, unsuspecting people fall prey to the dirty deeds of organised rings of confidence tricksters or conmen as they are notoriously known, in a daily routine which leaves behind a trail of hapless victims.

How many of them go home empty handed, sadder but wiser, after losing all those earnings on that game on the side-walk which offered a ‘fantastic opportunity’ to treble the cash in hand? Or so it was thought at face value. But then, didn’t so many others who played the game earlier strike gold? People who curiously crowded around the players saw with their own eyes how easy it was to rake in the stakes? That’s how those who stop to watch are tempted to try their luck, blissfully unaware that those ‘winners’ who jubilantly departed were also members of the same organised gang of conmen.

‘People still fall for the oldest tricks in the world’, says Senior Superintendent of Police Rienzie Perera.

The victims are reluctant to seek police assistance even though they realise in the end that they had been cheated. Perhaps, they are hesitant because they feel that they had also been a party to an illegal deed.

‘We are tough on these slimy operators who take to their heels at the sight of a policeman’, Perera said.

But, the gamble continues amidst the hustle and bustle of life in the city and with every passing day realisation dawns on more and more people of the vultures who stalk the streets of the metropolis.

For the victims, it’s too late, but the costly experience could be regarded as an opportunity thrust on them to come to terms with the inherent dangers that lurk in the concrete jungle, eclipsed by those skyscrapers.

An ‘opportunity to treble your cash’ unfolds in the form of a man squatting in a street corner with a neatly folded elastic band and a safety pin in hand. ‘It’s simple’, he assures onlookers, with an air of condidence coupled with a wide grin.

The stakes are on and the lucky player who locates the centre of the folded elastic is the winner. It seems to be a lucky day for many as the game is easy and several ‘happy’ men walk away with the spoils. With the infusion of confidence and the required conducive environment created, thanks to the partners who played the initial rounds, the game picks up devouring victims by the dozen.

In all these games, by whatever name they are described, it’s a ‘no win situation’ as they are so craftily and artfully manipulated, SSP Perera pointed out.

People must be wary of these diverse shady characters who are hell-bent on making a fast buck, he cautioned.

Walking along Colombo’s streets, one is bound to bump into one of those ‘helpless’ young men who had won an instant ‘scratch and match’ type lottery and is desperately trying to locate the relevant head office to collect his prize.

With a cheap bag made of cloth strung over his shoulder to give credence to his story, the village boy, as he calls himself, says he has won a lottery prize, but is unable to find the office concerned to collect his winnings. A glimpse at his face and the hard luck story he will dish out could even possibly make the hyper-sensitive cry.

Back home at Moneragala, the poor lad’s mother is paralysed. After the death of his father who was a labourer, they were rendered destitute and he had to shoulder the responsibility of keeping the wolf from the door while looking after his sick mother.

The unfortunate story, obviously concocted, is driven home with such a mastered wave of emotion, which is an art by itself, that victims are easy to come by. True to his word, he produces a lottery ticket and there it is, three matching numbers raking in a prize of Rs. 10,000. The hapless guy has to get back before the shadows lengthen as he has left his bed-ridden mother all by herself. He wants Rs. 5000 as he has no more time to be hunting around in Colombo and the balance money is a ‘gift’ with his compliments for that ‘big generous heart of the unsuspecting victim who helped him in his hour of distress’.

The man melts away. Even a closer look at the ‘winning’ ticket doesn’t show that anything is amiss. This was indeed a sheer stroke of luck. The game is over after officials at the lottery office reveal that it’s a master forgery. Five thousand rupees have gone down the drain. One of the Rs. 10,000 figures on the lottery had been neatly cut from a similar ticket and cleverly imbedded, in what can be described as ‘a professional job handled by expert hands’.

Police are eager to net in these unscrupulous elements who are wreaking havoc on the pavements, unseen by the naked eye. But, the reluctance of those who fall prey to lodge complaints has made this task more difficult.

Cheating is an offence under the Penal Code. These conmen target passers-by who are alone due to the absence of any corroboration in the event a police complaint is made, SSP Perera said.

‘At hooch dens and watering holes, they pick up these useful hints from those handling small-time legal spade work in the city. They are aware of some of the finer points involved to wriggle out of a situation they may be confronted with’, he explained.

Police are also aware of a mobile lottery seller, a youth afflicted with polio who had played out scores of people using a novel method of deception. He tells his customers, who are handpicked for his dose of ‘specialised treatment’, just the opposite of the line of winning in the ‘sratch and match’ instant lotteries. For instance, in the tickets where ‘your number’ should be higher than the ‘lottery number’ to win the prize indicated in the cage, he confuses his victims by saying the opposite. Invariably, the ‘lottery number’ is higher, which obviously means there are no prizes won, but misled by this insidious character, the elated ‘lucky winners’ dish out a couple of thousands before hurrying home to break the good news.The physicial infirmity of this young lottery seller and the pathetic story he cooks up draws sympathy and many of the victims had given a little more to ease the burden. After all they had struck gold. Or so they thought.

‘These shady characters who survive by hoodwinking people keep on shifting their bases and operate in different areas each day. They keep away from a particular area for months on fearing that they will meet their waterloo’, SSP Perera said.

In two known cases, this lottery seller had deceived two managerial-level employees of a Colombo private company at Town Hall. After that, he was not sighted in that area. After some time he had surfaced at Nugegoda and tried the same trick on a woman seated in a car waiting for her husband. But fortunately, her hubby had emerged and the man had scooted away.

As SSP Perera indicated, this conman posing as a lottery seller, also picks on victims who are alone.

All these lottery tickets are computerised under a fool-proof system to eliminate forgery, says Anura Jayaratne, Marketing Officer, Development Lottery.

Unsuspecting people who fall prey to conmen come to us to claim their prizes, but are turned away after explaining how they had been cheated, he said.

‘We don’t hand them over to the police, but record their statement for reference as these are innocent individuals deceived by crooked characters," Jayaratne noted.

He said most of these forgeries had been reported from the Fort, Pettah and Maligawatte areas.

Most of the victims are women who fall easy prey to these professional confidence tricksters, SSP Perera observed.

As the wording on these lotteries are in small type, it makes the task of those who live by deceit easier, he added.‘Do you know that even neatly cut coloured pieces of signal lights have been sold as gems to the gullible?’, he asked. It’s difficult to arrest these men of guile because there is no proper identification and moreover they move out of an area after an operation of deception, Perera said.For the rustic and the unaccustomed, Colombo’s pavements are a virtual hell-hole. If they are lapped up by the vultures on the prowl, that could be the worst that can happen to them. The growing threat posed by drug addicts has aggravated the situation as they are cannon fodder for vice ring operations, knowledgeable sources said.

Gullible’s Travails
I learn many things in prison

By Cecil V. Wikramanayake
Although Dad had four to five servants, now called domestic aides, we did not really need them, for the prison provided a ‘garden party’ to keep the jailor’s quarters spick and span. There was one such prisoner, Bhai, who had been a cook for a famous Indian actress in this country.

Bhai was a ‘lifer’, serving a life sentence for a murder. He could only speak Hindustani, a language which Mum knew quite well, having spent her childhood in North India with the Indian Christian Mission.

So Bhai became one of the garden party, and he and Mum prepared many an exotic Indian dish for our table.

Having worked for an actress, Bhai had a good repertoire of Indian songs and would sing them, dancing as well, in the kitchen while he worked. I still remember two of them by heart — "Basigamay Thoriyaa" and "Janitha Mola Kakkagna", but the meaning of the words is Greek to me.

There was another prisoner in the garden party that I can never forget. Podi, as Simeon Fernando, an island reconvicted criminal was called. He was known as a ‘habitual-karaya’. He was an ace gymnast, an expert cat-burglar and a pick-pocket par excellence.

I palled up with Podi, who was about the same height as I was, and he taught me gymnastics as well as lock-picking, the latter proving very useful to me many, many years later, when I, as a young reporter, demonstrated with a paper clip to Sir Richard Aluwihare, Inspector General of Police, how he had been duped by his counterpart in Australia into buying their ‘surplus’ handcuffs, which were supposed to be ‘all-proof’.

All I paid Podi for these valuable lessons in criminology were Elephant cigarettes, which I pinched, one at a time, from Dad’s tins.

Elephant cigarettes were only one cent each, or 45 cents for a tin of 50. The aroma of the cigarette lingered in the tin till the tin was empty, unlike the fags you get today, even the imported ones, which have no aroma worth mentioning and which taste like burnt coconut leaves.

It was while we lived in the Ehelapola Walauwe, that my sister Rita got convulsions. My grandmother, Rosalind Harriet, whose initials she had been given — the old lady suggested the names Ruby Hester, to which Dad countered with "Sores will fester" — was one of those who was said to suffer from hysteria.

Mum took a delight in telling visitors later how Ian, my younger brother, who would repeat anything Mum said, had told all and sundry that "Rita had convulsions and the mother-in-law fainted" !

Rita was rushed to Dr. Winn’s place, just round the corner, opposite St. Paul’s Church, where, since she did not respond to the usual treatment, she was chloroformed, to relax her muscles and stop the spasms. She recovered.

Our home had a low wall — it has now been raised — the length of the prison and quarters, overlooking Pavilion Street, and every year, at Perahera time, Dad kept open house for friends and relations who would come up to Kandy to see the pageant.

During those days , I remember, Bhai and his fellow prisoners helped out, boiling a huge cauldron of rice every day — the cauldron being borrowed from the prison.

The cost of living was something unheard of in those days, and undreamed of, and playing host to fifty to a hundred at every meal was part of the celebrated Ceylonese hospitality.

It was while we were in the Ehelapola walauwe that the fifth member of the family was born. At the end of the Central Assizes, where the Supreme Court held sessions into the more serious crimes, there was a thing called "Jail Delivery". On this day, the Judge would visit the prison and, having enquired into petitions and appeals, pardon those he felt merited such treatment.

On February 8, 1935, while Mr. Justice Dalton was holding jail delivery at the remand jail, the jailor’s wife, my mother, was next door delivering in a different way.

At this time my elder brother and I were boardered at CMS Boys’ English School, Kotte, where the principal was Dad’s best friend from their schooldays, the Rev. Derek Karunaratne, though, to the very end, Dad always addressed him as "Toots". It was natural, then that Dad should name his fifth child Derek Dalton.

Going to boarding school for the first time in my life was an adventure. First of all, my brother and I were to have separate trunk-boxes for our clothes. On the inside of the lid of my trunk was a list of clothes I was to take with me. Each of us was also required to have his own basin and bucket with a rope tied to it.

The boarding school in Kotte had only wells and no water on tap. When we got there, the two of us were assigned to Lambrick House. That and Selkirk House were above the school’s Dining Hall. Our housemaster was Rev. Coilpillai, while Selkirk was lorded over by Mr. V. T. Gnanakan.

My class teacher was Mr. P.A.J.Perera, who, when I was grown up and a journalist, ended his days as Principal of Christ Church College, Dehiwala, where I had studied for a short time. I met him there once and paid my respects to him. He really was overjoyed that I had taken the trouble to come and see him. 

Another teacher there was Mr. D. A. D. Perera, known to us little boys as "Dhanda" for he was very tall and well built. Two seniors who I hero-worshipped were Peter Fernando, the senior Prefect and D. H. B. (Henry) Perera, who acted the part of Sri Wickrema Rajasinghe in the play of that name (by John de Silva) put on the boards by the school in Kotte and also in Kandy.

Other boys I remember in Lambrick House were I. D. Perera and I. P. Somaratne, and a chap called Noah who was also called "Thambi-Noah". There was another fat boy whose name I cannot remember who was known as "Akkaraya", on account of his having a backside that made him look like a fat woman.

The matron of the school was an English woman called Mrs. Bevan. Uncle Derek, the principal, had been given the nickname "Gorilla" by the boys. For want of a better name, and perhaps because the boys thought there was a clandestine friendship between the principal and the matron, that extremely pretty woman was referred to as "Gorilli" - the female of the species.

I remember going down to the little tuck-shop of the school, after we had settled down in the dormitory, arranged our beds and put our trunks in the space allotted for them. Here, a ‘roast-paang’ as thick as two finger-breadths, slit down the middle and packed with delicious seeni-sambol, with plenty of maldive fish in it, plus a cup of milk tea, only cost us five cents each. This was in 1934.

Today, a roast-paang is as thin as your little finger, the seeni-samabal has only onions and chillie powder with little or no maldive fish, and you’ll be lucky if you are charged five rupees for it. And a cup of tea is anything from four rupees and fifty cents upwards!

Every morning we would gather up basin, bucket, towel and soap, tooth brush and toothpaste and troop down the slope behind the boarding school to the well close to the lake — Diyawanne ? — for our ablutions. And in the evenings too, for a bathe. I remember the senior boys making rafts of the trunks of banana trees, and punting on the lake. There was said to be a canal in the middle of this lake and I remember hearing stories of senior boys who punted their way to places like Pamankada, Wellawatte and Dehiwala along the canals.

It was in Mr. P. A. J. Perera’s class that I won my first class prize — a lovely book called The Golden Story Book for Boys — Scouting Days. It had a hard cover, was fully illustrated and I had it with me till I got married, seventeen years later. Then it mysteriously disappeared from my ken.

One beginning of term I had forgotten to get Dad to sign a section of my report to the effect that I had not suffered from any infectious disease during the holidays. As a result I was kept in the Isolation Ward of the sickroom till this lapse was remedied.

While I was there, I remember, there had been some sort of commotion in the school. Apparently Gorilla had slippered a senior boy and the entire school was in an uproar. They had cut the telephone wires to the principal’s office and bungalow, surrounded the latter with Gorilla inside and were threatening blue murder. After several hours, Rev. A. C. Houlder arrived and restored peace. Gorilla went away and was not seen again there and Rev. Houlder acted as principal.

On another occasion before this incident, when I was in the sick room proper, I was asked by the matron to go back to my dormitory and remain there till I was called. So was a senior boy by the name of Lekamge. We both obeyed, and, having nothing to do, were seated on a bed playing a game of draughts, when Gorilla, Rev. Coilpillai and a visitor walked into the dormitory.

We were asked by Gorilla what we were doing. We explained. A little while after he left the building, the sickroom attendant came to the dormitory, wrapped me in a blanket and carried me to the classroom. I was deposited in my seat.

A few minutes later Gorilla came in with a cane and I was given six cuts in front of the whole class. After the caning I was carried back to the sickroom.

Why I was given a caning I never could understand, but from that day I developed a stammer, and still have not been able to get rid of it completely.

Poor Uncle Derek. He married very late in life, had no children and now both he and his good wife are dead. But his name remains in our family, for apart from my youngest brother Derek Dalton, my second son, the guitar wizard of Sri Lanka, is Derek Byrd. He has spent most of his life abroad, entertaining the world with his guitars.

Just to be with you

[This Short Story was written for Wesak following the C.T.O. Bomb Blast in 1986 and was published by the Island Newspaper on Sunday 25th May 1986.]

By Jeannette Cabraal
It was late in the evening. Padmi awoke from a long afternoon slumber, and looked about her as one who had lost her bearings. With great effort and grimaces of pain, she craned her neck to look out of the window on to the street below, which was fast filling up with Wesak crowds. There was a great bustle. As far as the eye could see, she could discern the illuminated buildings with the Buddhist flag atop. She could even discern one with the effect of waving in the breeze. She gazed at this illusion marvelling at its creative effect.

Far away the twinkling lights of a pandal caught her eye and she could hear the blaring of the loud-speaker as it poured forth on the depicted Jathaka story. Yes! The annual fairyland panorama had unfolded itself again. This annual festival of lights so to say, to honour Him who gave a new light, a new understanding to a world beset with the inevitabilities of life-sickness,old age, suffering and death.

Lights twinkled: dainty paper lanterns fluttered in the night air against the backdrop of the huge dark sheltering trees that lined the road. Somewhere she could hear a Bakthi Gee programme. She heaved a sigh and slid back exhausted, tears sliding down the corners of her eyes. She had been billed to appear in a Bakthi Gee programme organized by her workplace. It was something she had looked forward to, practicing for months. But that was not to be. The words of a song sung by the late Rukmani Devi came to her mind "whatever we wish for in this world is never fulfilled. It only brings with it much pain and sorrow". Such is Samsara. Wasn’t it this relief from pain and suffering that Lord Buddha pursued too? There had been much competition among the girls to get into the choir. Only a few with very good voices and good looks were selected. Padmi had been fortunate in having both. Mettha too had a good voice but she iacked Padm’s good looks. Between them there was an underlying thread of was it enmity or distrust? There were to be a couple of reserves and Padmi being preferred, Mettha was relegated to the reserves. This had given Padmi a sense of victory, and yet what twist of fate had relegated her to this hospital bed? She looked at the clock on the wall, at the end of the ward. It was almost 7.15. Forty five minutes more and the programme would be telecast. A sense of desperation of frustration came over her. Mettha would be in her place and she confined to this narrow space hardly able to move her limbs.

What cruel fate had led her to the C.T.O. that fateful morning to accompany a former colleague who had come from Jaffna? Had it been worthwhile accompanying Ranji and bringing on herself this cruel, suffering? She was so full of self pity that she had hardly any tears for Ranji who had died in the tragedy. Ranji after all was luckier than she was. Why should innocent people like herself suffer? She shuddered as the nightmare of that deafening explosion returned to her mind. A terrible vibrating blast that seemed to splinter everything, sending sparks out of her head and ears, the excruciating pain and after that merciful oblivion. When she regained consciousness some time later, she found herself in a hospital bed, her weeping mother at her side. Would she be maimed for life? Was the fearful question that was always foremost in her mind as she had sustained a spinal injury. She chafed against her cruel fate. Her colleagues had come to see her, but later she could not bear to see their perfect limbs when she was not sure whether she’d be able to walk again. She hated their looks of sympathy, especially those of Mettha, who under the circumstances vainly attempted to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She had subsequently requested that no visitors be permitted; hence her occupation of this segregated room. The peacefulness of the day and the serenity of the full moon which seemed to be wafting across the clear sky behind the dark shadows of the trees was not hers. Hers was a rebellious spirit against the fate which had confined her to a hospital bed, while her opponent had stepped into her place.

Her dinner tray was where it had been deposited at 6 o’clock. It lay untasted, untouched. The attendant and the nurse in turn tried to persuade her to take something but she was adamant. She was just counting the minutes to 8 o’ clock.

It was past 7.30. The nurse entered almost apologetically. " Miss there is a visitor for you. Please don’t turn her away, she seems to desperately want to see you. Please on this day of days, soften your heart a bit. Shall I admit her?" "Nurse how often have I told you I don’t want to see anyone". Padmi exclaimed irritably, tears of vexation filling her eyes. "Ask her to go away.. to go away.. go away". She broke into a hysterical scream. Just at that moment, regardless of that cry, the visitor stepped in. It was Mettha, Padmi gaped. "You Mettha!" she exclaimed "I thought you were at the studio all spruced up and ready to take my place at the recital". "No Padmi" Mettha said "I just couldn’t take your place. I just couldn’t bear the thought of you in bed and me replacing you. We both looked forward to appearing on T.V. It made us even envious of each other, despite, it being a Bakthi Gee programme for a Wesak night. Padmi I gave it up to be with you tonight. The matron has made arrangements for us to watch the programme together.

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