A newer vision from a traditional physician
A younger patient seeks an ancient cure and (inset) Dr. Somadasa Fernando		More Review Articles... Mervyn, and all that Jazz My Friend Sriyani Nonis Remembering Dudley Senanayake A master mariner's literary voyage... Should school days be curtailed? Another centre of excellence at Apollo   Fashion HUMOUR

By Ranee Mohamed

In this area called Kuda Pokuna down Hirana Road near the Panadura Police Station, it is common to see the blind leading the blind.

"The visually handicapped people going  down this lane are trudging along to see Dr. Somadasa Fernando and I can see a faint shadow talking to me and asking for help to be led to the doctor," said patient Cyril Fonseka.

Fonseka is a retired-physician who is suffering from a visual impairment. "I understand the problems that the visually handicapped have to undergo. Very often people who can see have no time for us and we cannot expect them to lead us to our destination during these busy times.  So,  we always stop when we hear a shuffle and expect the person who is able to see even faintly, to lead us on to the doctor's doorstep,"  said Fonseka.

When we made our way to see Dr. Somadasa Fernando his waiting room was there - for all to see. The only construction was the roof supported by four long poles. Beneath its shelter sat hundreds of people who had herbal patches around their eyes. The newly crushed leaves did not touch the patient's eyes but formed a solid, green band around the entire area of the eyes. And they sat patiently this way, waiting for their impairments and ailments to fade away.

 Glaucoma of the eye

And they did, right before our very eyes - said Frank Perera from Moratuwa. "I was working as a computer operator in the Paper Corporation. I suffered from a condition called glaucoma of the eye. I was taken to the Eye Hospital and was surrounded by five doctors. I was in my late 40s. I was given medicine but they could not diagnose what exactly was wrong with my eyes. I was given eye drops to be used every 12 hours. I then began to travel by train and was feeling OK," said Perera, carrying a heavy bag of a change of clothes. His red eyes were brimming with tears.

"Then in 2002 I suddenly suffered an attack. I went to another government hospital and was told by doctors there that  my eye pressure had increased and that my nerves were damaged. But I could read. I was told that I needed laser treatment and was prescribed some tablets called Diamox. I then took laser treatment for two years. I should have felt better, but I felt worse.

My eye condition had worsened. In desperation I went to another doctor who told me "if you came earlier I could have saved your eyes. But now the nerves on the right side are damaged." I then found that I could not see anything close to me but was able to see shadows of objects which  were far away from me. I was then advised to take an eyedrop called Travotan in the night. It cost me approximately Rs.1200 and the bottle lasted less than a month," said Frank Perera.

Fumbling around

By this time Perera had been desperate. He  could not move out of his house alone, let alone go to work. "I spent my time crying. It was a heartache for me to feel  that my vision was being taken away from me. My children tried their best to comfort me," said Perera crying at the memory of these dark times.

And along with Frank Perera, his wife son and daughter suffered too. They hated to see him fumbling around the house.

"I was desperate, I could not go to work, I could not go out," he said. And it was during such anguish and despair that his wife heard of this traditional doctor and his different  remedy.

"I remember coming in here. I was holding my wife's hand and I did not know where we were going. I met this doctor who examined me and advised and administered the treatment. It's been some time now and I have been coming regularly for the treatment," said Perera who is now able to hold his bag, speak to us and look closely to see whether I am misquoting him in my notebook,

Munasinghe, a spray painter is from Ratmalana. He is Perera's friend. Munasinghe's eyes are covered with the herbal paste that is placed atop some bandages. Munasinghe cannot see at all and Frank Perera is happy to lead Munasinghe to the herbal doctor during the period of treatment.

Akin to cataract

"I suffered from a complication that looked like it came from a development akin to a  cataract. I could not see at all. After seeking this treatment however I am now able to see - little by little of course," said Munasinghe who has been working as a spray painter almost all his life.

For traditional physician Bellanage Somadasa Fernando everyday is a busy day.  After the initial examination of patients and prescribing medication, he walks around studying the progress of his patients.

This ayurveda clinic though not plush or computerised,  has its own smooth system. The surroundings go back in time. But there is a pattern that they follow. Every patient has a book in which his personal details, condition and complications are recorded. Thousands of these books are stacked in a small room. In another room the village women are busy grinding the fresh leaves according to the prescription. And in another compartment, the freshly ground herbal paste is applied around the eyes.

"The key to this treatment is patience," said Dr. Fernando who takes pride in the fact that he does not specify payment for the treatment. Neither is payment mandatory.

The poorest of the poor  are the most benefited as they do not have to pay for the treatment. But Dr. Somadasa Fernando did not deny the fact that he does have some problems running the place with the cost of living being so high. Given the fact that free breakfast and lunch are served to every patient in his clinic, Dr. Somadasa Fernando needs the money as much as everyone does - to pay the wages and the accumulating utility and herbal bills.

Lodging to patients

"But I am fortunate because there are people who have benefited from my cures who give me the money to carry on. Food is given as alms by the more affluent patients," said Fernando.

As the treatment lasts several weeks and months, patients are required to stay around this area for a long time. And households in this area make their living by giving lodging to patients from far away places who seek treatment.

"My treatment begins at 4 a.m and by that time there are about 60 numbers that have been given out," said traditional physician Fernando whose father too was a traditional physician. Fernando has been practising this traditional medicine for 32 years and vouches for the success of the treatment. "I believe in this cure because it has been obtained from these ola leaf inscriptions," said Fernando pointing out to some books preserved in a cabinet. "These are inscriptions that people would kill for," he whispered.

In addition to the herbal paste, Fernando also administers kasaya (concoctions). He says that he can treat any condition that inhibits sight and any ailment associated with the eyes, and this he does by never administering any medication into the  eye - for treatment is concentrated around the eyes and in the form of oral medication.

Each one of us try to make an imprint with our endeavours. Dr. Somadasa Fernando has made more than an imprint - he has given light to dark lives, for patients say that after long periods of darkness they are able to seek streaks of light after Dr. Fernando's treatment. And it is this streak of light that makes Dr. Fernando's vision a different one.

June 22 - ninth death anniversary of Mervyn de Silva

Mervyn, and all that Jazz

About the jazz, I learned only after he was gone, and that too, from somethingÿDayan had written. I don't know if I can be faulted for not making a first approach. He seemed unapproachable, and after the experience a friend, to whom I used to retail Mervyn's salon style, underwent, I decided that distance did lend enchantment.

This encounter took place in the lobby of Lake House. My friend was there on some routine matter. He saw Mervyn, and in a mighty flush, went quickly up to him and asked "Excuse me, but are you Mr. Mervyn de Silva?" Mervyn gave him one those looks reserved for the briefest of brief encounters, said a short "No," and turned on his heel. The poor man was devastated, and I had to coax his savaged feelings back to health over long days.

Good at mimicking

Those were Mervyn's bright times. He knew of no such thing as the retort courteous, and did get a rise out of taking down those he could not suffer gladly. There was a weekly column in the Daily News pseudonymously authoured by "Adonis." After quite a number of these had appeared, Mervyn got out his jousting lance, and after referring to the writerÿ as not so muchÿ "A-don-is" as "A-don-was," toppled him with his closing line: " I suppose old dons never die, they just lose their faculties!"

He was also very good at mimicking informal speech. I still remember bits and things of the dialogue he wrote. Thus, he specially saw the humour in some telephone talk between two ladies discussing their fashion choices for the evening, with one of them indicating that the way to salvation lay in donning ".the dot, dot, dot saree." This was all 1960s stuff.

I read him and listened to him, as a man who needed very much to learn, and was hardly disappointed. It was around this time, that I first saw him at Radio Ceylon, and heard him doing his talks including some of those penetrating book reviews, which as I sat in the continuity studio, I listened to him deliver from the talks studio down the way.

There are two of these I rememberÿwith a staggering vividity. One was Mervyn's review of John Le Carre's Call For The Dead. At first I didn't pay particular attention as I went about attending to some of the clerking duties that went with the territory. Then suddenly, my blood caught a chill. Mervyn, was reading that deadly passage where George Smiley kills his friend and cold war adversary, the East German intelligence operative, Dieter Frey.

The words tumble in my ears after a space of 40 and more years, and I quote now without benefit of text: "They met in the clearing of a timeless forest, two friends rejoined and fought like beasts. Dieter had remembered and Smiley had not." Mervyn paused, then he ended his review with the words Smiley kept repeating to himself in a delirium. It was fromÿJohn Webster's dark tale The Duchess Of Malfi: "I bade thee when I was distracted of my wits go kill my dearest friend, and thou hast done it."

It was worth the ticket. A while later, Mervyn appeared at the continuity studio to have his payment voucher endorsed by me. I tried to look in awe, but he was having none of it. Always an elegant dresser, Mervyn anticipated third-degree brand building or whatever it is that advertising men talk about today, long decades earlier. Clasped in his hand was a tin of the most fashionable foreign cigarettes, with silver lighter topping it. It was pure posh.

Finer things

This takes me to the other talk of Mervyn's, again unforgettable. Ian Fleming had created James Bond, and Bond was brought to the big screen in the shape of Sean Connery. Who can forget Connery saying: "Bond, James Bond." This was an irresistible character for Mervyn, who was particularly taken by Bond's love for the finer things in life.

Apart from his faithful Walther PPK, Bond drove fast cars and was faultless in his choice of women. He was impeccably outfitted, and everything he owned had the stamp of high class.

About this time, a group of local spoilers mounted an attack on Bond, calling him a dangerous and culturally detrimental representative of the decadent West. Mervyn was cut to the quick, and responded with his classic piece delivered on radio, in the form of an address to the jury, called "In Defence of James Bond." I can hear him now, his mannered voice and measured style, with his habit of sometimes sliding one word into another, making thisÿmasterful performance. I sat riveted in the studio. This later appeared in print, but it was no match for his original delivery.

One of the best

Mervyn moved on to his later, and even greater moments. He came to be one of the best foreign affairs analysts and political commentators of his time. Two occasions on which I saw him outside Radio Ceylon were when he presided over lectures delivered by Krishna Menon, the great Indian intellectual warhorse. And yes, there was one other, when he spoke at the Centre for Society and Religion, with Felix Dias Bandaranaike, and a bill of speakers including Amaradasa Fernando.

This was almost immediately after the UNP landslide in 1977. I remember Amaradasa Fernando making some palliative remarks, and Mervyn who followed him, started out by saying: "I don't know if Mr. Amaradasa Fernando is trying to make a virtue out of necessity." But it will be interesting to recall as an aside, that FDB himself began by saying: "It is not often that Satan comes to the Centre for Society and Religion," in an allusion to Dr. N.M. Perera's greatly favoured description of him at the time of the United Front government.

Microprocessed style

While Mervyn was comfortable with the cognoscenti, he did bring intellectual discourse closer to a wider public with his journal Lanka Guardian. Some of the best minds contributed to it, and even grudging wallets like mine gladly gave up the small sum needed to attend the feast.

For me, Mervyn's grand period was in the 1990s, when he wrote in a microprocessed style. It had "everything inside." This was his Sunday column, full of brilliance for what he did not say. Staccato sentences, dots, pauses, perfectly placed quotations, and, of course, much mischief, which even then he could hardly resist, as in ".the Hoo and Pee. Chee, dirty, no?"

Rewind

A brief rewind. Mervyn had a remarkable sense of time and place. The 1960sÿdid not offer opportunities of frequent travel for most of us. Mervyn being in journalism was more fortunate. Writing once about a visit to Greece, he described how he stood on a particular spot, and then in tones that were highly evocative, added "Here Homer sang."

It's all been said before. Mervyn, the great journalist, the outstanding editor, the innovative publisher, the learned commentator, the intellectual gymnast. My choice of legacy is out of another box, Dayan.

This is Mervyn's living legacy, and rarely is it known to happen. In intellectual sweep Dayan has outdone Mervyn. Dayan brings to his daily exercise in existence, a swathe of experience that makes him stride with the mighty and hold the magic to touch people. We are talking fine steel forged out of the hottest fire.

All that jazz? Second chances don't come easy, so I'm asking Dayan right away: 'Do you like Duke Ellington?'

My Friend Sriyani Nonis

From then on we spent our time at the school together. We both found this place to be totally different from the strict discipline and uniforms of our previous boarding-schools. In mutual agreement, we decided to continue wearing our woollen skirts, blouses, socks and low heeled shoes, since there was no point in trying to dress differently. During the lunch break the students were allowed to go out to lunch. Our favourite place was a little caf‚ which had just opened near-by.

Sriyani and I went through the term, firm friends. We said our good-byes at the end of November, regretting that she had to stay on for three more weeks till the end of term, and looking forward to meeting again in Colombo.

A few months later, my parents and I arrived in Colombo. A couple of days later there was a telephone call for me, and, greatly excited, I said to my parents, "That must be Sriyani." Indeed it was. Our orbits had brought us together again. Sriyani came to my place the next day, and we, thereafter, continued meeting in each others homes and our parents got to know each other well.

Love for music

Sriyani and I, having discovered a shared love for music, would listen to records. Sometimes we played the piano, after I had struggled through a Chopin waltz, Sriyani would play a Schubert impromptu beautifully. I remembered Sriyani's parents house at Horton Place with a tennis court at the back. Sriyani and I would play tennis, which mostly consisted of hitting the ball into the net and far out of the court with most of the time spent picking it up or looking for it.

Sriyani and I had many happy times together until the time came for me to go back with my parents to India and Sriyani back to England to pursue her legal studies at Gray's Inn.

Over the years, starting from our days in England, Sriyani and I shared an identical sense of humour: we were amused at the same things, never having to explain it to each other. There was a bond between us forever. Sriyani had the most irresistible chuckle which she perfected over the years, that never failed to bring out in me an uncontrollable desire to laugh out loud. She would very gracefully cover part of her face and let her eyes do the laughing.

We both agreed later in life that one could get through any difficult situation, by looking for a funny side to it. Our motto - if we had one - would have been "all goes if humour goes" which is a slight variation on what James Michener said in his book The Drifters -  "Courage is the thing. All goes if courage goes."

Settled in Colombo

After we both finally settled down in Colombo, we continued meeting and shared similar interests as we had always done before. Our last time together, Sriyani's and mine was typical of all the years past. We went to a concert at the Lionel Wendt Theatre, and Shelley, her youngest daughter, was with us this time. It was a concert of excerpts from the operas.

Sriyani was sitting between Shelley and me, and at one point, as I expected, there it came, a barely audible chuckle beside me. I turned to her, and there were her eyes laughing, sharing as usual, her unspoken joy. After the concert the three of us went out to dinner, relaxing and enjoying each others company. It was midnight when we said our good-byes, looking forward to our next meeting.

There are no words to express the loss of a true friend. How much greater is the loss of their beloved mother for Sriyani's children. Three years ago, Sriyani's Orbit of Life veered away on its predestined path to a place where there is eternal peace, rest and well-being; and where there is everything that is good and beautiful. Sriyani, throughout her life, had unbounded energy and enthusiasm for everything in her life. We all know how great was her dedication to her family, her work, her charity and her faith. She went through life with grace and dignity, in a quiet and unassuming manner. Sriyani's character, her personality and her life can be described by a single word: courageous.

"True courage is to do without witnesses everything that you are capable of doing before all the world," as James Michener wrote. This was the Sriyani that I knew and whom I will always remember.

                               - Rapti Chitty

Remembering Dudley Senanayake

A generation and a half after his death, not by assassination which dramatic event itself stirs the popular  imagination, but through  a heart attack which cut him down too early, the memory of Dudley still remains bright and clear not only among his ageing  contemporaries but even among those of a later age.

This is all the more surprising since Dudley left no progeny, no daughter or son to perpetuate his name or a wife to complete the work he had begun, which is often how the memory of great men are kept alive after their death in this country.

What are the reasons for this phenomenon, extraordinary in Sri Lankan politics, of such a spontaneous popular gratitude and respect for a man, without any external massaging of the image?

No mausoleum

Also exceptional among political leaders in this part of the world, there is for Dudley Senanayake, no mausoleum where people would gather at the birthday or death anniversary, no permanent centre to celebrate his vision or mission, no museum or archives to preserve his papers, no weighty volume to commemorate for posterity the profundities uttered by him or written by his admirers, not even a large bronze or granite statue at a street corner, except for the little one next to his father's in the premises of the old parliament by the sea, and not even a family home to which today's children could point to and say this was where a prime minister was born and raised.

And yet he is one who is remembered throughout the length and breadth of the country and of whom no one would speak anything but good. What are the reasons for this unique, genuine, spontaneous admiration and affection for a leader which transcends politics, class, caste, ethnicity, religion, language, the up country-low country 'difference,' or any of the many group identities which divide our people?

What accounts for his memorable funeral ceremony at the time of the Sinhala/Hindu New year  in 1972? When he died at Durdans Private Hospital two years after his stunning defeat at the general elections of 1970,  he held no important office. In fact at that time when asked in a court appearance what his occupation was he had quite truthfully quipped, "I am unemployed." 

No state sponsored occasion

Yet over a million people gathered for his funeral which was not a state sponsored occasion. The government declared no public holiday; but the people did. They did not wait for organised buses to get to Colombo; they walked. I myself, then government agent Batticaloa, where I had been banished by the government, took 'French Leave' and drove down to pay my respects to the man I had grown to admire over the five years I had served him as secretary.

I think that one of the principal reasons for his appeal to the common man was that he never tried to be more than what he was. He never strove for effect or image. He was basically shy and self effacing by nature. 

Fortunately he was before the time of television, but I have absolutely no doubt that had it been around, he would have spurned its seductive but ephemeral pathway to national glory. He preferred to go down physically to the people; meeting, walking and talking, especially with farmers in every part of the country.

His first love, about which he knew a great deal, was agriculture and he gave this priority, an urgency and commitment of his personal time which was extraordinary. The common man appreciated this uncommon attention to their very basic needs, food and water.

They also liked his simplicity in dress, in material possessions and in his language. He never sermonised, he was never pontifical but spoke directly and with no oratorical flourishes in an idiom which they could easily understand. He was uninterested as to his dress to the point of carelessness.

Faithful valet

In fact most of the time it was Carolis his faithful valet, who had looked after him from childhood, who decided what he should wear for the day. Invariably the chosen combination would be a baggy pair of brown slacks, a long sleeved bushshirt of a lighter brown and a well worn pair of shoes, what we then used to call 'pumps' without socks.  And this was normal prime ministerial attire.

As for material possessions he could make do with very little. He was just not interested in acquisitions. On his journeys abroad in those foreign exchange strapped days, his shopping would generally consist of a few golf balls, a fancy golf cap, a new lens for his old camera and possibly yet another pipe to add to his quaintly shaped and carefully maintained collection.

Through his years in public life Dudley Senanayake acquired an experience and capability in leadership which few others were privileged to have. He was prime minister of the country on four occasions; in 1951, on the death of his father D.S. Senanayake; in 1952 when he won at the elections but resigned soon after, grieving at the unnecessary deaths caused by the hartal;  in 1960 (March - July) for the shortest parliament that the country has ever had, and in 1965 for the full term of five years.

He was leader of the opposition from July 1960 till July 1965 and the cabinet portfolios he held during his political career included agriculture and lands, defence, and external affairs. He led the United National Party to three electoral wins and two defeats - in July 1960 and in the elections of 1970.

Fairly and squarely

He was used to both winning and losing and treated these two impostors just the same. It was an age of innocence when elections were fought fairly and squarely within the rules. It was also the age when appreciation of the work of one's opponent was not unknown. Dudley was exceptional in this respect.

I recall his telling me, after one exhilarating day of campaigning during the 1970 elections that his opponent at Dedigama that time, was a fine young man - one Dharmasiri Senanayake, and that even if he lost, Dedigama would be in good hands under his charge. He had not the slightest hesitation in going - when the umpire,  the electorate - ruled him out. I remember his instructions to me when he returned home to Woodlands the morning after his party's defeat in 1970.

"Prepare my letter of resignation to the governor-general," he said with a wry smile as the car drew up under the porch. "Wouldn't you want to call a final meeting of the cabinet," I suggested. "What cabinet" he countered, "all the fellows have lost."

The letter of resignation was on Gopallawa's desk within the hour.

The challenges he faced as prime minister when he formed the government in 1965 brought to full flower his tremendous qualities of patience and moderation and his ability to harmonise and synthesise widely different points of view. His opponents called it the hath havula and it was a strange medley of bedfellows that made up that particular coalition.

Diverse in attitude and behaviour

Yet he kept together for several years a government which included individuals as diverse in attitude and behaviour as Philip Gunewardene (MEP), I.M.R.A. Iriyagolle (SMP), K.M.P. Rajaratne (JanathaVP), W. Dahanayake (Basha Peramuna), S. Thondaman (CWC) and M. Tiruchelvam (Federal Party) in addition to his own UNP.

It was an exercise in political stagecraft to which the historian has given insufficient attention. Two strategic thrusts he employed in this critical time of our history had immense significance for the future. One was the pursuit of national self sufficiency in food. The other, resolving the ethnic problem, which was then in its initial stages. 

It was clear thinking, inspired personnel selection and good management practice that ensured the success of his food production drive. He put into the field, with appropriate delegation of power and sufficient resources the best civil servants of the time. Men like Shelton Wanasinghe in Kurunegala, Mahinda Silva in Anuradhapura, C.J. Serasinghe in Galle, M. Sivanathan in Matara and Francis Pieterz in Jaffna.

Backing up the front-line in the Districts was G.V.P. Samarasinghe - substantively permanent secretary of defence and external affairs but doubling up - as the ever so efficient - secretary of the National Food Production Coordinating Committee.

Inspiring his troops up and down the line, in the war against our real enemy - poverty - was Dudley himself, exhorting, persuading, encouraging and monitoring the achievement of targets. It was an object lesson in management by objectives to the cabinet, the public service and indeed to the entire nation.

Historic opportunity

The unstable configuration of party strength at the 1965 elections - no one party having an overall majority - provided him with the historic opportunity of making his own bid towards the resolution of the Tamil minority question which at that time was neither militant, separatist nor acute enough to have drawn the attention of India.

It was the first and last occasion on which the main Sri Lankan Tamil party, the Federal Party, was ever part of the government of the country. The Federal Party which had always been in the opposition or sitting on the sidelines now found itself in the middle of the political mainstream, represented in the cabinet by the erudite M. Tiruchelvam as the minister of local government. It was a decisive moment of our recent history.

Dudley was aware of the portentous significance of the opportunity that had arrived and worked long and hard to seize the day. But the country was not yet ready with the spirit of accommodation that alone could guarantee the success of a politically negotiated solution.

So, while in the three years that the Federal Party was part of the government, some progress was made towards decentralisation to the districts, which were to be in terms of the District Councils Law  'under the direction and control' of the government, Dudley's effort finally ended as yet another lost opportunity.

In spite of his best endeavours the forces against him, both within the cabinet and outside, - the infamous charge of 'Dudley ge bade masalavadai' for example, were too strong even for this liberal, moderate man to resist and the Federal Party departed, to be transformed in the mid '70s into a militant liberation front.

To Dudley, who upheld in his life and work the values of liberty and equality of all people, the inability to progress meaningfully towards these fundamental goals, especially in respect of the Tamil minority, was a grievous disappointment. For liberty and the equality of the individual represented the cornerstones of his political vision for Sri Lanka of a free, united and prosperous country, at peace within its borders and with the world outside.

- Bradman Weerakoon

A master mariner's literary voyage...

By Ranee Mohamed

Master Mariner Priyantha de Silva anchors in Sri Lanka for a three-day stay. And the memories of his early life in his motherland overtake him. "Be it at land or at sea, my heart will always remain at home, with my mother and my loved ones," he says. Author and mariner, Priyantha de Silva has emerged as the only Sri Lankan seagoing captain to write a book in English summing up his life's experience. Captain de Silva has shown a rare ease in blending the tranquility of life in Sri Lanka with the crosscurrents of life and living  in different parts of the world far and wide.

His experiences in over 68 countries make him a man of the world, but there is more to Captain de Silva's achievements. He brings with his book Through Deep Waters a new trend among the uniformed men - a trend to write -  and write better. Through Deep Waters is being translated into Sinhala while de Silva is also writing his second book.

Separated

There may be several reasons for the success of the literary work of men in uniform but prime among them is the fact that they are separated from relationships and disciplined enough to overcome the abyss of loneliness that haunt them more often than not. Captain de Silva's book too shows a sharpening of emotions due to a total separation from places and persons associated with such happenings.

"The calm serenity that surrounds one in the middle of the sea is a peace of mind that cannot be bought even for a million dollars," says Captain Priyantha de Silva who first began writing his 230 page book in late 2006. "At that time I was the only Sri Lankan on the ship. I did not have the  company of fellowmen and felt alone. It was during this time that I sat down alone and wrote - hour after hour,  taking a break only for tea in the evenings," said Captain de Silva speaking to The Sunday Leader.

As the seas of the Pacific, Australia, and Papua New Guinea and the Pacific Islands took him on his long and unending tour of duty, not only did Captain Priyantha de Silva do his duty, but even more for his writing continued, lulled by differently hued waters and comforted by memories of a lifetime that overcame him,  before they were captured and frozen with ink.

Happiness

"My happiness is in the home," confided Captain de Silva, but as a seafarer that happiness has to be left behind. For the great men who go out to sea leaving behind their more cherished possessions, this is true today as it was true many years ago.

Captain de Silva's book Through Deep Waters is a cocktail of Sri Lankan and international happenings. And with a second book, de Silva plans on being more descriptive and educative about matters of the world, both historically and geographically. With serious thought being given to by prominent literary persons on adapting Through Deep Waters as a book of study for students over 16 years of age, Captain de Silva goes on to say that he could not be happier with such a thought. "It is true, it is a record of real life happenings and experiences and the climb towards success. It also  gives one an insight into the happenings of the outside world," said Captain de Silva.

Feared for his future

An old boy of St. Joseph's College, Captain Priyantha de Silva had feared for his future when his classmates achieved great professional success. "I gave priority to organising shows and entertainment, and school work took second place," admits the Captain. But his fears have proved to be unfounded as he has achieved the highest rung in his career at sea. "I joined as a direct entry cadet and went straight to the ship," recalled de Silva. And from then on there has been no turning back.

 "There is a great similarity between life and the sea. But with the sea you will be able to avoid the storms. The sea becomes rough and when it gets rough we get the signal of an oncoming storm which can be avoided by diverting course," said Captain de Silva. But sadly in life there is no such warning. "When one looks at life one does not know what is up for you in the next minute let alone in the future. One can get ready to go for a party, wear expensive clothing and perfume, but can meet with an accident.." pointed out Captain de Silva.

No escape

"The sea is dangerous, but there are warning signs which tell us that we have to take an alternative course. Thus, while at sea one can pass through  expected storms. But with life, however much you may take precautions, there is no escape from what is in store for you in life's long course.For there is no warning sign and no alternate course that one can take," pointed out this experienced seafarer.

It is hard to battle the seas, but men as Captain Priyantha de Silva continue to try to do so. Some do it with vengeance - and some do it with a letter, a song or poem  - or in the case of de Silva - a book.

Should school days be curtailed?

By Shezna Shums

The Government of Sri Lanka is contemplating opening schools for only four days of the week against the usual five days.

This move is being discussed on the grounds that fuel will be conserved if school vans and private vehicles are run one day less every week. With the rising fuel costs the authorities are looking for ways and means to reduce fuel consumption.

If schools are to function for four days a week the school hours are expected to be extended on the other days - to up to 3pm - to make up for the lost time.

This move to reduce the number of days to four according to government sources  will reduce the quantity of fuel imported into the country which in turn will lead to a saving.

Skeptical

This idea however is being met with much skepticism, especially among  parents and teachers. Parents complain that even now when schools close at 1.30 or 2 pm children get home only at around 3 pm or later. If schools are to close at 3 pm children would arrive home late in the evening which is bound to bring on many other  difficulties in its wake.

In addition many children  attend private tuition classes after school as parents find that subjects taught in school are not fully covered during the sessions and see the need for tuition as a means of covering the syllabus satisfactorily.

If children arrive home after 4 pm they will have to do their daily homework as well as attend tuition classes much later in the evening. This will lead to children having to go through more stress by trying to fit in all this within a short space in the evening leaving very little time for them to rest or relax.

Exhausting

Parents also say that if and when this move comes into effect the smaller children - especially those in Grades 3 and 4 - may find going through extra hours too exhausting. Teachers on the other hand say that this move will be counter productive since at present they find children waiting to go home at the end of the day and if the hours are extended they are bound to get restless and lose concentration.

Discussions

The government is expected to hold discussions with teacher trade unions, principals, educationists, parents and students to obtain their views regarding this move and its feasibility before arriving at a firm decision.

Teachers unions however have called on the government and the Education Ministry to drop the idea as they consider it impractical. It was also noted that fuel consumption may not necessarily reduce drastically as many school children in the cities and other areas use public transport while many also walk to school. Those who travel in school vans and private vehicles are only a small percentage of the overall school going population.

The move to reduce the number of school days on the whole may be detrimental to the education of the child and may serve to only disrupt their studies if the government later decides that curtailing the number of school days is counter-productive and reverts to five days a week some parents said.

Enhance standards

The government on the other hand is being urged to concentrate on enhancing the standard of education in schools and teaching so that they could ensure a brighter and better future for the children instead of disrupting the present system citing fuel conservation.

Another centre of excellence at Apollo

By Fathima Razik

The elevation of the Department of Renal Science as a Centre of Excellence coincided with the sixth anniversary of Apollo Hospital, presently known as The Lanka Hospitals Corporation (TLHC). The centre has in the past one year successfully completed 60 kidney transplants. These transplants included those with chronic kidney failure which gives those patients a new lease of life.

The Department of Renal Science carries out both living donor and cadaver transplants with three medical teams comprising nephrologists, surgeons, urologists - both local and foreign, and assisted by a specialised renal care team.

One of the success stories was that of a four year old Bangladeshi boy of mixed parentage - Sri Lankan mother and Bangladeshi father - who having after unsuccessful attempts at renal treatment in many countries overseas was brought to Colombo by his parents to be treated at Apollo Hospital.

The donor who was his uncle was rejected in hospitals where treatment was sought for this boy while in Apollo the specialised team was able to carry out the surgery successfully. And so an adult kidney was successfully transplanted in a four year old boy.

"We have proved that we can perform very complex surgery in our hospital as we are geared toward facilitating such surgeries," said Dr. B. Verma, urologist and kidney transplant surgeon. Adds Dr. Surjit Somiah, "When patients are diagnosed with kidney failure they are put onto dialysis and thereafter they have the opportunity to go in for a transplant if necessary. We ensured that this little Bangladeshi child and the donor were fully prepared for the surgeries. The end result was one of success, and they are all delighted."

Yet another success story is that of a Sri Lankan lady who was diagnosed as having chronic renal failure in 2002 and had been on the waiting list for a kidney transplant. She was in good health and was on dialysis for two years. She could have continued with dialysis for another three years, said Dr. Somiah.

But she was lucky in that a donor was found - a lady who was brain dead and who had donated her kidneys and other organs. This lady's son - a doctor - decided to donate her kidney to this patient and this type of donor was in fact a first in a private sector hospital.

Led by Professor of Surgery, Faculty of Medicine, University of Colombo and Vascular and Transplant Surgeon at Apollo, Professor Mandika Wijeratne and the renal care team, this patient received her new kidney during the Sinhala and Tamil New Year holidays.

"While Sri Lankans were enjoying their holidays during the New Year, a dedicated team of doctors and nurses gave a fellow Sri Lankan a new lease of life," said a source at Apollo.

Apollo is focused on providing the best in health care to any segment of society having rooms to cater to patients at any level of income. While the hospital is not functioning to its full capacity, the management is confident of turning things around in the near future.

On being asked about its financial status, Chairman, Ajit Jayaratne said, "Losses in the past were due to paying interest. We are confident of posting profits in the 2008/09 financial year."

Chief Executive Officer, Lakith Peiris said that Apollo is signing up with foreign institutions to mobilise patients from the United Kingdom, the Maldives, Europe and Korea who could be treated at the Colombo centre. They intend to promote medical tourism, it was revealed.

"And in fact cosmetic surgery conducted at Apollo has been highly successful," he said. Most of the medical facilities we offer are much cheaper in Sri Lanka compared to those countries, Peiris added.

Apollo has thus come to stay - with its state of the art medical technology and its local ownership that promises to give as much as it gets - by providing humane, sterile and excellent medical care to every patient who seeks treatment within its walls.