Thursday, March 5, 2020

Merry March Madness


I was just 7 years old, in 1955, when I had the glorious opportunity to attend the first Royal-Thomian cricket match in my life. The ecstasy of preparing for the game was out of this world. We had to be clad in white shirt and shorts as members of the school boys tent. The only colorful attire we had on was the blue and gold flag.

The school bus took us to the Oval under the watchful eyes of our class teacher, Ms Dissanayake. We arrived before the match started and took our seats diligently, with the summer sun eating into our faces. Two days of fun, frolic, and fanfare, accompanied by cheers, jeers, hot lunch packs, ice cream, soft drinks, pineapple and gram.

As we moved up the ladder and entered College, the whole spectrum turned on its head. The year was 1960. Most of us were 12. The evening before the match day was an event not to be missed. Everyone gathered at the College gates on bicycles. Each bike had a blue and gold lantern hanging from each handle bar. An old crock truck filled with seniors led the procession. We took the route along Racecourse Avenue via Thurstan Road from the Flower Road circle all the way to Bambalapitiya junction and then back again to College via Reid Avenue. A “papare” band blared out its sounds on trumpet and percussion and people all along the streets gathered to watch us pass by. The feeling of being special was unimaginable.

A few years later we were “grown up” and mature to take the role of the so called “naughty” boys of big matches. Match morning kicked off with the boys, all clad in various forms of fancy dress, gathering at the gates to mount the old croc truck.  Some wore their sisters bra’s. Some in tail coats. The Muslims never forgot their Fez caps. The band played. The boys bellowed. First stop was at CMS Ladies College on Flower Road. The driver managed to take the truck inside the school. The girls were all excited and waving. Into the Principals room went a bunch of the mischievous. A few gathered flowers from the pots nearby. Up went the ;principal on the shoulders of the boys. “She’s a jolly good fellow …” and “Hip hip hooray” cluttered the air. The flowers were handed over to her and we had to scoot before the cops came in. The girls were ecstatic. The Cinnamon gardens Police was alerted. We were hauled into the station, warned, and despatched with no serious consequences. Everyone in town knew what the Royal Thomian was all about. Even politicians were great fans of the match. Since that fateful day, CMS Ladies College closed school on the first day of the match, which was always a Friday.

Off to Saraswathy Lodge at Bambalapitiya for breakfast. Dosa and Sambhar with Vadai. Not everyone paid as they chose to scoot off into the truckwhile the waiters were looking the other way. Then, a bee line to the Oval. The lyrics of the baila’s sung needed much censorship. But then, the censor board folks were at the match already. So, what the heck?

Two days of festivities. Rumor had it that even our fathers did the same. No one really cared if we won or lost. It was all about having a great time together. The tradition lives on to date. May the best team win. R*O*Y*A*L “Royal!                                                                         

Fazli /Feb 2020

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