A second look at my shape!
My family origins are from
Sinharaja forest. Due to natural calamities and man made disasters we do
not exist any more in this province. So my parents migrated to Malaysia.
My father did not want to send me to any school. He wanted me to join
his business the export trade. He knew there were good returns in this
type of business.
 While I was in my twenties he packed me off to a foreign land. So I
bade goodbye to my parents and got settled down in Sri Lanka. About 35
miles away from Colombo City lies a village called Vevaldeniya. The eye
sweeps over an extent of rich scenery, lush green paddy fields, tiny
river, surrounded by hills and friendly villagers. This all look
comfortable and promise an easy kind of life.
The villagers opted for a varied choice of employment. Some farmers,
tradesmen, and some took to handicraft and others practising trade
handed down over the decades - cane weaving.
The new set up provided me good comfort. I was under good care. I
found my new dwelling at a cane weaver’s home.
I was fortunate enough to bump into Swaris’ work shop. Swaris had a
sturdy body and was in his mid thirties. He was a master in the cane
weaving trade. Most of his work comes from visits to customers at their
residence or business premises.
He believes there is a considerable demand for his services, as there
are few cane-weaving craftsmen still engaged in this type of work.
He works hard to make this craft more popular and designs, and
manufacture new cane furniture products.
These include bookshelves, dining tables, chairs, baskets and drawing
suites. Many times Swaris handles me very carefully. At times more
labour - and time - intensive jobs are carried out at his work shop.
 Every morning he sits down with his rusty craft knife, supply of
nails, a hammer and strips of cane. He strips me and start binding of
the feet of chairs and tables and then uses strips of warn cane nails to
strengthen the base before binding the feet with new stronger cane
strips. He turns me to a delightful piece of furniture.
 Everyone gives me a second look for my shapely body. A customer once
dropped into the workshop. There was enought evidence to prove that she
belonged to the elite class. Here is a woman who had the vitality of a
girl in her twenties she was tall well-built woman who must have been a
beauty in her young days. She may be 60 getting on to 70s now.
Her English has the trace of a scottish accent. She speaks both
languages with fluency. She ordered a suite with six pieces. I was
fortunate to be picked by a wealthy woman of class. She took me to her
newly built house and was placed in the huge banquet hall. The same
evening she had a house-warming ceremony.
Her guests included VIPs, government dignitaries, the Colombo-07
elite and rich businessmen. Everyone was happy with my elegant look.
It was my happiest moment, I smiled with satisfaction and received
accolades from all guests, leaving little doubt about the importance of
this dying trade.
-Tissa Hewavitarana
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