Gatherings of old friends is always nice, even if what
occasioned the meeting happened to be something as somber and sad as a
funeral. My friend JanakaPerera’s father
passed away last Saturday and as is often the case when someone close to
someone close dies, close-people drop by, commiserate and help in whatever ways
possible.
There were lots of school friends who have e known each other
for more than forty years and some who I hadn’t met in decades. Time passes, the world moves and when we move
out of classroom and school to scatter like so much pollen in the winds of our
aspirations and the water-movement of our circumstances. Saturday night was for reminiscing. Sunday night was also for reminiscing and of
course chit-chat about random topics, re-telling of old jokes, political
discussions, and the aa-giya
(coming-going, literally and metaphorically) thorathuru or
news of post-school lives.
Sandwiched between night and night was
a long morning and afternoon. It was one
of those annual events that I attend every 4-5 years or so: the inter-batch
6-a-side cricket tournament for old boys of my school, Royal College, Colombo. There were two categories, Under 40 and Over
40. Our batch had won both events on
numerous occasions, but this was not our day; we knocked out in the first round
itself. This didn’t dent the enthusiasm. In fact it only enabled more revelry
outside the boundary line.
I got there rather late in the day but was privileged to
watch the semi-finals and the final. I
believe the Group of 2001 won the Under
40 event. The ’88 Group won the Over 40
version, I believe for the 3rd successive year. To my mind, however, it was the Group of 72
that won it all. More than ten years
younger than the eventual winners, they saw off younger and clearly fitter
teams in the earlier stages by sheer determination and team spirit. They were bludgeoned in the finals and yet
held their heads high.
In an event made for big hitters and wicket-takers (I saw
some batsmen hitting 3-4 sixers an over and a bowler who took a hat-trick), it
was a fielder who impressed me most.
SusilRanasinghe,was ragged by some exquisite batsmanship. He was fielding at the cover boundary and had
to cover about 40% of the field. A late
cut would send him scurrying to the fine leg fence. The next would be a scintillating cover drive
that took him half way to the long off end of the field. The next would be another late-cut. These shots were so well timed that Susil
couldn’t save any of them. And yet, he
fought ball and speed and of course age to give it all he had. He was, for me, the man of the tournament.
And so they lost.
They congratulated the winners and came off the field faces flushed and
full of smiles. They mingled with
batchmates and schoolmates from their time and other eras. And UdayaAbeysekera sang. He sang Rookantha’s ’As deka piyaana nidaaganna mata bae’ (I cannot close my eyes and fall
asleep), Jothipala’s‘Kothenaka hitiyath…’
(Wherever you may go) and Milton Mallawaarachchi’s‘Avasara netha mata’ (I don’t have the right…). Beautifully rendered. No, I didn’t think he has missed his true
vocation. It was as it should be. The right thing for the right moment.
I am not saying that the winners lacked spirit or were
underserving of trophy, but there was something gentle, giving and just-being
about the ’72 Group that touched; a kind of wrapping paper to a gift that was
being accepted after many years.
Was it all about the particular school? I don’t think so. All intersections move us, although in
different ways. It was a kind of
re-birthing of memory and times gone by.
And through it all, I remembered Janaka and the fracture he suffered
from which he won’t recover easily.
It was a strange weekend, all things considered. We are nothing, alone, I realized. And we can be so much, together, I also
felt.
*First published on September 29, 2011
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