The good old days-a response
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We were made to sleep on a cloth, probably an
old worn out kambaya belonging to our
grandmother or a sarong belonging to our
father. It was spread on the floor over an empty gunny bag. We slept
well and woke to be fed out of mother’s breast milk. I heard elders say
that all of us, brothers and sisters were very healthy who did not give
much trouble to parents or elders, in case of illness.
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by Cyril CHANDRASEKARA GUNEWARDHANA
Reading the article The Good old days in your reputed Sunday Observer
of July 13, page 86, I being a retired Government Servant who began life
in a harder way, like to pen my response. Perhaps I may not belong to
the category of forties, fifties and sixties as I was born in 1938.
Anyway thanks very much for the sarcastic rendering of the new
generation with all kinds of comforts in play, entertainment and food. I
may go into much more details surmising that the learned writer hails
from the upper middle class.
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Learning to walk |
At the outset, I would like to state that we did not have anything as
baby-cots. We were made to sleep on a cloth, probably an old worn out
kambaya belonging to our grandmother or a sarong belonging to our
father. It was spread on the floor over an empty gunny bag. We slept
well and woke to be fed out of mother’s breast milk. I heard elders say
that all of us, brothers and sisters were very healthy who did not give
much trouble to parents or elders, in case of illness.
Once in school, we ran, and played elle the game we used to play in
the fields after harvest or in the large coconut estate belonging to the
Bandaranaikes and came home (in the same way as the reputed writer said)
late in the evening after a bath in the river.
Cakes and aerated water were out of our reach. We had to be satisfied
with a viskiringna or a kevum .
We helped our elders while they were ploughing or harvesting by
carrying their lunch or ambula or tea to them. Once I remember how I
fell down from the small bund ruining all the food making them work in
hunger. Rice with polos ambula and coconut sambol and occasionally
kiribath were what our mothers prepared for them.
I fully agree with the learned writer’s mentioning of the go-carts
that went out of brakes making cuts and wounds which up-to-date leave
scars to remember the happy adventures.
Sports
We did not have bicycles of our own. But we hired them at a cost of
twenty five cents an hour.
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Playing elle, the national sport |
I remember how the owner of the bicycle chased after us who dropped
it on the way and ran away after cycling for more than the permitted
time. There were about five volleyball teams (young and grown-ups) in
the village. All teams consisted of players from adjoining houses. We
played matches with other friendly teams. Sometimes the match ended in a
fight, but on the following day we met in the playground again.
No grudges. No police or courts intervened. It was from these village
school teams that players like W.L. Siriwardena and W.L. Piyaratna
sprang up.
After all play, we had time to study.
There were no televisions. Only one house was adorned with a battery
operated radio, from which religious sermons were broadcast. The elders
were keen in listening to the bana preached by.
Studies
After schooling some went for higher studies. Jobs were at hand for
others. We all were healthy in mind and body.
We feel sorry about students of today who suffer from diabetes and
other ailments. Only a rare case of stomachache was treated with a
simple decoction by our grandmother. With our happy outdoor lives we
were fortunate to handle two languages well, and a third to a fair
extent that they helped in reaching higher standards in administrative
services in later times.
We did not have MPs lists or waiting lists to vie for jobs.
They were at hand according to performance.
Such were our times. Oh, where is the present generation in health,
morality and happiness?
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