When Ceylon became a Crown Colony in 1805, the first British Governor, Governor North, wrote thus to the Home Office in Britain,"no remuneration within the bounds of reason will induce a Sinhalese man to work if he hss two coconut trees and one jak tree". This, pithily illustrates the attitude of the majority community's lackadaisical attitude where nation building is concerned.
As I write, I have on my table an article published in the Island newspaper of 11th Feb 2019 which is titled, "Sri Lanka's debt ridden economy", where it is estimated that Sri Lanka's loan repayments between 2019 and 2022 will amount to $22 billion. Note that 70% of our foreign exchange earnings come from the maids who are tortured, and at times even beheaded. Is this something to be proud of?
The Governor of the Central Bank, in an independence day statement, said that, "Sri Lanka has had no fiscal discipline since independence". To say the least he was trying to be very polite. If one reads deeper into the statement it means that Sri Lanka has been nose diving into chaos; financial, political, and social. To illustrate fiscal indiscipline, by one of the numerous examples available, take the Mattala airport. The revenue from the airport (if there is any?) was reported to be Rs 14 million per year and the expenditure to maintain it, Rs 13.8 billion. The entire cost of costructing this airport, which runs into billions, is a massive loss to the country. So, is the Hambantota Airport, Sri Lankan Airlines, the Port City and other similar projects which are constructed with absolute disregard to the economic benefits, but merely to satisfy the ego of politicians, while the majority of the population are struggling to survive: living in shacks and eating frugal meals.
Note that this fiscal indiscipline is not of recent origin. As the Governor of the Central Bank said, it started with independence; free education (very debatable); almost free transport; free rice and free healthcare, so that a lotus eating nation was further pampered.
Turn to the most disastrous policy of Sinhala only and the attacks on the minorities. The uprising of the largest minority community was the only response to the continual harassment by parochial minded political opportunists. I have worked with Tamil youth. Their dedication, commitment, and work ethics are unbelievable.
Move on to the social aspects of independent Sri Lanka. There are no work ethics, no discipline, no commitment, a total breakdown in law and order, and no desire to move on to a better future. These are compounded with rampant corruption, unscrupulous politics, and at times, total ignorance.
Some say that Sri Lanka would have been better off under the British. But this would have been appropriate pre Brexit. What is the way forward? The restoration of a rational political and governmntal system; an education system to prepare the youth to a technologically based economy; teach all three languages for meeting the challenges of the future, and, for reconciliation among the communities. Bring back discipline, law and order, superior work ethics, discard a rotten political system and a cabinet, which the man on the street calls, a "kanda haliya": a pot of porridge.
I will conclud this very short note with this: Grafitti written on a wall nea a New York metro station read, "God save America and please hurry up". Very appropriate for Sri Lanka.
Elmo de Silva - Feb 2019
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Father's Love
The year is 2016. I see an expression of a father's love for his child. The ten year old girl is Yehansa. I see her Dad, amidst all his other toils, going that extra mile and more to surprise her with a beautiful tank of ornamental fish when she visited him for the summer holidays since she prsently lived her mother. It's not easy because there are many other things to get done. Other expenses too. Yet, his heart is set on making her little heart happy. Every detail is being seen to. Utmost care is taken so that the outcome is the best.
The little girl is happy. One of her childhood dearest wishes has come true.
As an adult she is sure to look back, as I do now on my own years gone by. I hope she will, in the years to come, treasure this as an expression of her Father's love?
***
The year is 1978, and I am a little girl attending Primary School. A time when I was totally fascinated with books. My favorite author was Enid Blyton. The more books I had, the better. My love was books.
During this time I wanted a particular book, "Hurrah for the Circus". I knew what the cover looked like and wanted it for my own ever so badly. So, I told my father that I really needed this book. I made my request loud and clear.
At the time I was spending most of my time at my grandmothers house. I was pleasently surprised one very rainy and stormy evening. In a brown paper bag "Hurrah for the Circus" was delivered to me by the servant who was employed at our home. Thathi had gone to work by bus that day. He had stopped at KVG's Bambalapitiya, in the pouring rain, to get the book for me. He had returned home very tired and was too exhausted to drive to grandma's place. As I wanted the book very badly he had sent it with the servant.
A few weeks prior to that day I had gained a point for my House at School. In the book Dad had written, "To my darling Sasha. For getting a house point. Love, Thathi".
I still hold on to the book and I have kept it safely in my children's book cupboard. I remember this as an act of a Father's love. It must have been very difficult for him, changing buses in the pouring rain? He had also been very sick in the intensive care unit of a hospital a few years before and was easily tired. But he did it for me. I still hold on to this memory. An act that I will treasure forever.
Sashi Mendis - Feb 2019
The little girl is happy. One of her childhood dearest wishes has come true.
As an adult she is sure to look back, as I do now on my own years gone by. I hope she will, in the years to come, treasure this as an expression of her Father's love?
***
The year is 1978, and I am a little girl attending Primary School. A time when I was totally fascinated with books. My favorite author was Enid Blyton. The more books I had, the better. My love was books.
During this time I wanted a particular book, "Hurrah for the Circus". I knew what the cover looked like and wanted it for my own ever so badly. So, I told my father that I really needed this book. I made my request loud and clear.
At the time I was spending most of my time at my grandmothers house. I was pleasently surprised one very rainy and stormy evening. In a brown paper bag "Hurrah for the Circus" was delivered to me by the servant who was employed at our home. Thathi had gone to work by bus that day. He had stopped at KVG's Bambalapitiya, in the pouring rain, to get the book for me. He had returned home very tired and was too exhausted to drive to grandma's place. As I wanted the book very badly he had sent it with the servant.
A few weeks prior to that day I had gained a point for my House at School. In the book Dad had written, "To my darling Sasha. For getting a house point. Love, Thathi".
I still hold on to the book and I have kept it safely in my children's book cupboard. I remember this as an act of a Father's love. It must have been very difficult for him, changing buses in the pouring rain? He had also been very sick in the intensive care unit of a hospital a few years before and was easily tired. But he did it for me. I still hold on to this memory. An act that I will treasure forever.
Sashi Mendis - Feb 2019
Enough is Enough
I was the first catring manager for Tasty Caterers in 1997. My assistant was a guy named Tony. After a busy day of hard work in this establishment, the senior staff used to have a couple of drinks after the closure of the restaurants. Sometimes, this took place in different locations outside the city.
Although this was a regular occurence, we avoided Tony as he could not stand more than a couple of drinks. The day came when Tony forced himself and joined our group who were planning to go out that evening. At first, we objected but finally gave it up by warning him not to have too many drinks.
The session started somewhere outside Colombo. Tony, as usual, consumed a few drinks and was knocked out. We slowly rested him on the back seat of the van.
When the time came for us to depart, Tony's situation became a problem as we had to drop him at his house in Mount Lavinia. So, we sat and thought of a plan and decided to leave Tony at his doorstep, ring the doorbell and take off, before his wife confronts us.
We opened the gate, carried him to his front door, set him against it, rang the doorbell and ran away. When his wife opened the door she discovered Tony in a very bad state. She panicked and wanted to call the Police, thinking that he had been poisoned.
His son, who had his wits about him, quickly took him upstairs and rubbed lime on his head and feet, and then that he started speaking out, slowly.
Tony comes back to work after three days with his hair soaked in oil and looking like a wet crow. It was then that he shared what really happened after we left him leaning against his front door.
Peter Arendtsz - Feb 2019
Although this was a regular occurence, we avoided Tony as he could not stand more than a couple of drinks. The day came when Tony forced himself and joined our group who were planning to go out that evening. At first, we objected but finally gave it up by warning him not to have too many drinks.
The session started somewhere outside Colombo. Tony, as usual, consumed a few drinks and was knocked out. We slowly rested him on the back seat of the van.
When the time came for us to depart, Tony's situation became a problem as we had to drop him at his house in Mount Lavinia. So, we sat and thought of a plan and decided to leave Tony at his doorstep, ring the doorbell and take off, before his wife confronts us.
We opened the gate, carried him to his front door, set him against it, rang the doorbell and ran away. When his wife opened the door she discovered Tony in a very bad state. She panicked and wanted to call the Police, thinking that he had been poisoned.
His son, who had his wits about him, quickly took him upstairs and rubbed lime on his head and feet, and then that he started speaking out, slowly.
Tony comes back to work after three days with his hair soaked in oil and looking like a wet crow. It was then that he shared what really happened after we left him leaning against his front door.
Peter Arendtsz - Feb 2019
Love and My Valentine
Love, you looked at me so close
And bade me come your way
No words uttered, but Moonbeams kissed
the sky, and so I asked..... why...
You touched my heart so ardently
Splendidly, you chose to make my heart flutter
Is it that I am love and you mine
through time sublime
Is it that Love captured my Valentine
Pierangeli Andrado - Feb 2019
The Mystery of Life
Always remember,
the uncertainty of life,
which brings forth fear and tear,
seizing all our dreams and hopes,
away into a catastrophic destiny.
Be watchful, for destiny awaits your arrival,
to welcome you,
with a handful of embraces
and a mouthful of devouring jaws
which misses no opportunity.
All what you find in the desert is the bareness,
which none can figure out,
neither do I know why?
What you and I need is hope and jou,
to come forth in our life as springs of water,
flowing forever.
Kiara Arendtsz (18) - Feb 2019
the uncertainty of life,
which brings forth fear and tear,
seizing all our dreams and hopes,
away into a catastrophic destiny.
Be watchful, for destiny awaits your arrival,
to welcome you,
with a handful of embraces
and a mouthful of devouring jaws
which misses no opportunity.
All what you find in the desert is the bareness,
which none can figure out,
neither do I know why?
What you and I need is hope and jou,
to come forth in our life as springs of water,
flowing forever.
Kiara Arendtsz (18) - Feb 2019
Independence 2019: Whither Sri Lanka?
So, another February comes along. It’s
time to celebrate “freedom”. The British Raj packed up and left 71 years ago,
12 days before Mummy set me free into this big blue marble. The Dutch and the
Portuguese had called on us before, leaving behind many traits of their
culture, food, dress, music, and even seeds. Just imagine if the Frogs* had
chosen to hop across the waters of the Indian Ocean just to savor a sip of
Paradise? We could have ended up with a “Little Pondicherry” in some corner of the
island, today.
And the flags will flutter, the anthem
will be sung (in all three languages, mandatorily nowadays), speeches will be
made, and the warm Feb air will be steaming with the sweat of nationalism for a
day.
So what really happened after Feb 4,
1948?
Political parties had already been
formed in 1947, colors assigned, and, symbols branded. The first parliamentary
election, under the Soulbury Constitution established in 1944, had also been
held in 1947 and the results declared. The UNP, under the leadership of the
late Premier, Don Stephen Senanayake, had won. Power was transferred,
accordingly. The British Governor was replaced by a Governor General, Sir Henry
Monck-Mason Moore GCMG KStG, who governed
until 1950. A “son of the soil”, now, sat on the throne as the Prime Minister. We
were now an independent country under the British Commonwealth of Nations. The
hearts and minds of the nationalists of that era, who clamored to be rid of
their chains, must have felt a sense of relief?
Since then, we have seen so many general
elections come and go, bringing in new people, parties, and portfolios, while
booting out their predecessors into defeat and shame. Each transition has had
its own flavor of a mixed grill of trauma, conflict, violence, corruption, and
poll rigging.
And, as I look back at the 71 years I
have lived, first as a Ceylonese, and then as a Sri Lankan from 1972, I am
beginning to think that, maybe, we are still being colonized, the only
difference being that it’s being carried out by our own people now.
=============================================================
*sharing an opinion on the use of the
word “Frogs” to refer to the French without being racist.
quote: Anyway, the question of
whether it’s acceptable to call the French frogs is asked only because we live
in an age of suffocating political correctness. For those who seek rhetorical
counsel, my advice is not to worry about saying it. If anybody gives you a
funny look, just add, “Pardon my French.” Unquote
[JOHN J. MILLER,
Why “Frogs”? – The National Review – Politics & Policy – Jan 12, 2005 - https://www.nationalreview.com/2005/01/why-frogs-john-j-miller/]
=============================================================
Fazli Sameer - Feb 2019
Friday, February 22, 2019
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