Features
Invitation to a beggar’s daughter’s wedding
Short story
by Rukmini Attygalle
Andoris my beggar friend from the previous story and I developed a friendship based on mutual respect. Andoris plied his trade mainly in and around the Colpetty market. He was a man of many parts. Apart from being a very good actor (a distinct advantage for one practicing his profession), he was both cunning and resourceful. Except for the fact that his body was extremely thin, there was nothing physically wrong with him.
He was however ‘double jointed’ – an ability to bend the limbs at the joints to a much greater degree than is normally possible. He used his agility to perfect advantage. At certain times he would sit on the pavement outside the market with his knees together straight in front him and flat on the ground, with his lower legs and feet sticking out on either side. As the average human torso could not normally maintain this posture, people naturally assumed that the man was deformed. He enhanced this supposed deformity by bending one hand inwards till his thumb touched his lower arm – another impossible feat for the average person.
Regular fits of coughing and gasping for breath, were additional embellishments to his act. “May you reach Nirvana by helping a poor man,” was the chorus with which he filled the gaps in the coughing fits. He never ever verbally claimed that he was in any way disabled. If others thought so – well that was their prerogative! Their undoing too!
By mid-afternoon Andoris found that it was more lucrative to abandon his seated posture and go into the market-square to act as a porter cum hailer of taxis. He seemed to change miraculously from the pathetic deformed figure prone to breathing difficulties to a man-of-action. The agility with which he pranced about on his thin stick-like legs never failed to amaze me. Veins bulged out of his upper arms as he lifted heavy shopping bags, and he seemed very much happier doing this than his morning work.
I think he felt it was a more respectable form of activity to earn a living. As the saying goes, ‘beggars cannot be choosers’, he had to earn his way through life using every possible resource available to him and if he had to turn himself into a pathetic cripple in order to achieve this – so be it! After all he not only had to support himself but a family as well.
Since Andoris and I became friends, he never failed to greet me with a beaming smile. Although I was aware of his prowess in acting, I could see the unmistakable stamp of sincerity in that smile. In fact, if he saw me even when he was in his ‘deformed mode’ he would still greet me with the most, cheery smile, not at all in keeping with the image he was trying to project. Often, he would abandon his ‘deformed mode’ and follow me into the market-square, not only to become my porter but also my friend and adviser.
He knew each and every stall in that market, and also what the best bargains of the day were.
“The best mangoes are in the stall next to the butcher’s,” or, “I did not see any decent drumsticks today. They all look dry and over matured but the snake gourd in the front stall is good and the price also is cheap,” he would advise as we entered the market square.
He was too cunning to proffer such advice within earshot of the stallholders, for he could not afford to antagonize anyone. In fact, his work depended on people’s goodwill. So, if I was about to make a foolish purchase, and Andoris was not in a position to warn me verbally, he would break into a cough or clear his throat meaningfully. He always volunteered advice in a friendly and concerned manner. I appreciated his advice and guidance very much.
I was also often touched by his observations, which showed genuine concern.
“How is your foot, Nona? It must be better now because you are not limping anymore.” I was surprised that he had even noticed. “You must be careful when you walk on these pavements, Nona, because they are so uneven.”
Although he addressed me as ‘Nona’ his attitude was not ingratiating. It was more a manner of speaking. He was always respectful, of course, in the way one shows respect to a friend. With me he did not bow and scrape as I saw him do with some others; and I was glad. For such behaviour invariably acted as a barrier to true communication. He probably accepted that socially I was considered his superior, but he knew, that we both knew, that on a basic human level we were equal.
“Did you manage to buy all the books for Sunil with the money I gave you?” I once asked Andoris. Sunil was his son and Andoris was very keen that he should be sufficiently educated, so that he would not be forced to follow his father’s profession.
“Yes, yes,” he said, “I even had money left over to buy two extra copy books for him,” he said beaming. Had he told me that he had run short of money, I would have given him some more and he knew it. But he also knew that honesty was an important element in a good friendship.
Once or twice when I did not have sufficient change to give Andoris for carrying my shopping, I said to him that I would recompense him when next I saw him. “No, no, Nona! That is quite all right. Don’t you worry about it,” he would reassure me shaking his head from side to side as if to say, “What are a few rupees between two friends?”
One day Andoris came running towards me, excitement written all over his face. “Nona, I have some very good news to tell you. In fact, I was looking out for you for the last few days, but you didn’t come this way.” He was eager for me to ask him what it was.
“So, what’s the good news, then?” I inquired.
“We have arranged a marriage for my daughter. She is going to be married soon!”
Andoris beamed and managed to look quite bashful.
“Why Andoris, you look so shy one would think that you were the one who is to be married!” I joked.
“Aiyo, Nona, you are always teasing me,” he pretended to complain, but he thoroughly enjoyed the banter.
I was very happy for Andoris. Marriage for his daughter had been an enormous weight on his mind. He had once told me that being a beggar was a distinct disadvantage when it came to finding a marriage partner for his daughter. Although she was fair and beautiful, all interested parties lost interest the moment they came to know how the prospective father-in-law made a living.
“So does the bridegroom-to-be know about your line of work?” I asked as tactfully as I could.
“Well,” he said clearing his throat, with a cunning expression creeping into his face. “I told him that I work in the market. That is not a lie, no?” he replied, trying to justify himself. He looked at me for some support.
“Of course not,” I backed him. “You work in and around the market and that is the truth!” I knew that I would probably have done the same had I been in his position. It was so much easier to be honest when one’s circumstances were not so desperate, and money was available to back up one’s sense of honesty.
“Anyway,” he said “I know that the young man has taken a great liking to my girl and he won’t change his mind in a hurry. In fact, when I told him that I wouldn’t be able to give the girl a dowry because I have to educate my son, do you know what he said? ‘I am not interested in any dowry. I have a very good job as a security guard!’ So, Nona, I think the right time has come for my daughter. This match will definitely work.”
I was truly happy for Andoris. It was about time he had some luck! Since his wife died two years ago his biggest worry had been finding a husband for his daughter.
“We are thinking of fixing the wedding for the end of next month,” he said beaming again with excitement. “It will give me a little more time to collect some money for the wedding.”
“I’ll give you some money for the young couple – a wedding present,” I said. “I am sure there’ll be lots of things they would need when they start a new life together.”
“What wedding presents!” Andoris scoffed. “I will need every cent for the wedding!”
“But Andoris, “I replied, “Surely you’re not thinking of wasting money on a wedding reception! You should give whatever money you can afford to your daughter!”
“What Nona! What are you saying! What sort of father would I be if I don’t even give a wedding reception to my own daughter! It is going to be the most important day in her life and in mine also! Of course, I am going to give her a wedding and a grand one too!” Andoris remonstrated with such vehemence that I was quite taken aback.
“And Nona you must also come to the wedding. I will tell you the moment the date is finalized. I will be going to see the astrologer next week to find a good nekath day.”
I was really touched that Andoris had invited me to the wedding. “Yes Andoris, I’d love to come,” I said, and meant it.
He told me he lived in Wanathamulla; and warned me that it would not be easy finding his place; but he said he would give me clear instructions nearer the date.
The next time I saw Andoris I gave him some money for the wedding, with which he seemed pleased.
“Everyone is being so generous!” he exclaimed. “Even the stall holders have given me money.”
I imagined his wad of notes hidden in his waist pouch getting fatter by the day and I was very pleased for Andoris.
My problems began when I told my family and friends about the forthcoming wedding and my intention to attend it. In the first place, they thought that I was quite eccentric to have struck up a friendship with a beggar; appalled at the circumstances that had led to this friendship and thought it absolute lunacy for me to attend the wedding.
I well remember my mother’s horror when I first told her that I had to borrow money from a beggar to pay for my taxi.
“For goodness sake! Have you no self-respect? Borrowing money from a beggar!”
“But Amma, I had. no option! The taxi driver was getting quite irate and abusive!” I remonstrated.
“Of course, you had options! You could have gone back for your purse; or come here and taken the money from me!”
I had been too embarrassed to admit that I had felt quite intimidated by the taxi driver. In any case, she would not have understood such things because she was not a person who could have been intimidated by anyone!
“And now,” my mother said in an exasperated voice, “This business of wanting to go for the wedding! It is complete madness!” And for once, my husband agreed with her totally.
My dilemma became a much-discussed topic among family, friends and of course the servants in my mother’s household, who were always in the know of everything going on.
Her chauffeur Jamis – whom I had known all my life and never quite treated me as an adult, warned: “Don’t you ask me to drive you around to these mudukkus in Wanathamulla. Because I won’t!” He stated his position clearly and categorically.
As my husband drove himself to work in our car, if I needed to go anywhere during the day, I had to rely on Jamis or taxis.
I desperately turned to my friends for some sort of understanding and support but did not receive any. The general consensus being that, it was not very prudent to place myself in a vulnerable position in the shanties of Wanathamulla at a time when rumblings were being heard and tremors felt, of the growing dissatisfaction and anger of the ‘have nots’ against the `better offs’ in society.
In the end I caved in as one does in such circumstances, unless of course one was made of sterner stuff, which I was not.
I felt sad and depressed at the thought of telling Andoris that I would not be able to attend his daughter’s wedding, after all. I knew that I would have to resort to lies in order not to hurt his feelings, and this really appalled me. I felt I was downgrading our friendship. And yet what other option did I have?
When I next met Andoris, I did not beat about the bush but told him straight that I would not be able to make it to the wedding. I said – lying through my teeth – that, I had to go out of Colombo that weekend and would not be able to be back in time for the wedding.
“Aiyo Nona what a shame! It would have been so nice if you could have come!” his disappointment was starkly apparent on his face.
I felt terrible because I knew that I was letting him down badly. In order to ease my conscience, I pulled out a fifty-rupee note and held it out to him.
“No, no!” he said. “I have more than enough money for the wedding now.”
I felt ashamed that I had offered him money. Money could not camouflage the fact that I had disappointed him. It was not money he wanted but my presence at his daughter’s wedding – the most important day in her life and his also.
“It’s going to be a good wedding party,” he said, “I am sorry that you won’t be able to come.” He looked crestfallen.
I despised myself for my weakness, and my willingness to bow down to convention so readily. The next time I met Andoris he welcomed me with a beaming smile. As he shook his head from side to side, he said, “I knew I would see you today, Nona, because Saturday is your marketing day. The wedding went off very well!” he exclaimed. Taking a little box wrapped in red and gold shiny paper, from his shirt pocket, he stretched out his hand towards me. “I brought you a piece of wedding cake,” he said shyly.
“Oh, thank you Andoris, how nice of you to have remembered me,” I said, accepting it with gratitude, while my face burned with shame.
Features
Revolt in the Temple: Poverty as Structural Control
The underlying issue in Anuradhapura is a struggle between a few families who, for years, have waged a quiet cold war over control of the Udamaluwa. Similar situations exist in Mihintale as well. These places, among others, are treated as treasures of Buddhism but, in practice, function as tightly controlled economic centres. The same pattern repeats in Kandy around the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic and in Kataragama at the shrine of God Kataragama. Variations of it exist across religious spaces of Islam, Catholicism, and Hinduism too, where institutional authority becomes indistinguishable from localised power networks. What is presented as sacred order often operates as inherited control.
It is indeed devastating to see situations where parents have no alternative but to expose their children to predators in robes for survival. This has nothing to do with religion itself, but with human pathology in the context of survival. These are the questions that demand answers, not superficial responses that treat symptoms while ignoring the conditions that produce them. What is more shocking and disturbing is not the tragedy itself, but the reactions to it. Social media has overwhelmed us, not towards understanding, but towards a fragmented cognitive state with no exit route.
A friend of mine in Nairobi used to keep all his electronic devices at home and go into the forest once a month, spending days there before returning. He called it “detoxification”, but in reality it was an escape from a system that no longer allows uninterrupted thought. Daily life is now saturated with unnecessary content, and attention itself has become a commodity extracted, processed, and sold back to us. This is where we have become unable to understand what really drives certain tragedies we endlessly react to, while remaining blind to the systems that quietly manufacture them.
Multi-dimensional poverty
Poverty is structural, poverty is political, and poverty is functional; it is a tool and a manoeuvring force of power. The question is no longer whether poverty exists, but who benefits from its persistence, and who is forced to survive within it. From education to medicine to basic food supply chains, countries like Sri Lanka are not simply mismanaged; they are structurally captured by a small number of actors who remain stable regardless of who is formally in power. Small-scale enterprises and NGO circuits that circulate foreign funding to “solve structural issues” often operate as hollow administrative performances, producing reports rather than transformation.
Poverty is not merely the absence of money. It is the absence of bandwidth, absence of protection, absence of time, and absence of cognitive stability. As Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir state, “Scarcity captures the mind. Just as the starving subjects had food on their mind, when we experience scarcity of any kind, we become absorbed by it.” This is a description of how human cognition is structurally reorganized under constraint. Scarcity does not sit outside the person; it occupies them.
They also state, “Scarcity leads us to borrow and pushes us deeper into scarcity.” That is the mechanism that must be confronted without euphemism. Poverty is not only deprivation; it is a self-reinforcing trap in which survival decisions generate the next layer of crisis. Once a society crosses a certain threshold of scarcity, it stops producing long-term reasoning as a default condition. It produces short-term survival logic, often mistaken by outsiders for irrationality.
It is precisely here that public discourse becomes intellectually dishonest. Everything is translated into moral language because moral language is easier than structural analysis. But morality without structure becomes theatre. It produces outrage, not understanding, and repetition, not reform.
It is indeed brutal when an individual wearing religious insignia—whether robe, symbol, or institutional identity—is accused of acts that fundamentally contradict the moral authority attached to that position. It is equally brutal when institutions that depend entirely on trust begin to function as shields rather than safeguards. But the deeper question is not shock. The deeper question is what kind of social condition produces families who see placement within such institutions not only as devotion, but as a survival strategy under constraint.
Ethical decision-making
That is where the argument collapses into its most uncomfortable form. Poverty does not produce ethical decision-making environments. It produces constrained optimization under pressure. When food insecurity, debt, and social instability converge, institutional spaces that appear stable become transactional destinations for survival rather than moral choices. To interpret this as purely cultural failure is to deliberately ignore the structural compression of options.
Mullainathan and Shafir describe this clearly: “Instead of saying that scarcity ‘focuses,’ we could just as easily say that scarcity causes us to tunnel: to focus single-mindedly on managing the scarcity at hand.” That tunnelling effect is not abstract. It is visible wherever long-term planning collapses under immediate pressure. Systems then misread this as irresponsibility, when it is in fact cognitive overload produced by structure.
What is rarely acknowledged is how deeply this extends into governance itself. Institutions increasingly operate as if they are managing rational, unconstrained individuals. In reality, they are interacting with populations whose cognitive bandwidth is already structurally taxed. The result is policy failure interpreted as public non-compliance, enforcement interpreted as moral correction, and reform interpreted as communication failure rather than design failure.
Social media has intensified this distortion. It does not merely spread information; it destroys sequencing. Structural problems require temporal depth. Social media removes that depth and replaces it with instantaneous judgment. Every event becomes a surface object, detached from causality. The outcome is a society permanently reacting and never diagnosing.
Poverty, in this environment, becomes invisible in its real form. It is not seen as a continuous structural condition but as episodic failure. A scandal appears, is consumed, and disappears. Another replaces it. Nothing accumulates into understanding because attention itself is exhausted before synthesis can occur.
Modern Condition
The modern condition reflects a reversal of earlier social organization, where human relationships are embedded within abstract systems of finance, law, and administration that often fail to recognize the lived constraints of those they govern. In this disembedded state, institutions increasingly misinterpret human behaviour as their capacity for structural understanding weakens. At the same time, attempts to resolve systemic failures through expanding administrative complexity produce diminishing returns: more regulation, oversight, and reporting generate less coherence. Over time, institutions shift from functional effectiveness to symbolic performance, maintaining the appearance of control rather than achieving it.
This is why public outrage repeatedly fails to translate into structural change. Outrage is not a tool of reconstruction. It is a signal of system fatigue. It circulates, intensifies, and dissipates without altering the underlying architecture. Meanwhile, the conditions that produce repetition remain intact.
The most persistent illusion is that these are separate problems: poverty here, institutional misuse there, media distortion elsewhere. They are not separate. They are expressions of a single condition in which scarcity, complexity, symbolic authority, and fragmented enforcement interact without coordination. The system does not fail in one place; it fails in the gaps between these layers.
Symbolic systems
What makes this condition more severe is that symbolic systems continue to operate at full strength even when structural systems degrade. Religious identity remains powerful. Political rhetoric remains strong. Cultural symbolism remains intact. But enforcement capacity, institutional coherence, and social trust degrade beneath them. That gap is where instability grows. Until that gap is addressed at the level of structure rather than sentiment, repetition remains inevitable. New scandals will emerge, new interpretations will circulate, and new cycles of outrage will follow. Nothing resolves because nothing is being reconstructed beneath the surface of reaction.
This is no longer repairable through adjustment or rhetoric. It is a form of decay that persists until it exhausts itself, because the mechanisms meant to correct it are now part of the same failure. It continues until rupture, not reform. At that point, instability ceases to be episodic and becomes structural. Pressure will accumulate into breakdown, and what follows will not be managed transition but forced reversal. The responsibility lies with those who govern these institutions to prevent that trajectory, not through language, but through change. The drama is ending; farce is over; what we are witnessing is tragedy unfolding with unprecedented consequences.
by Nilantha Ilangamuwa
Features
Are threats to Buddha Sasana external or from within?
As Sri Lanka celebrates the birth, Enlightenment and the Parinibbana of the Buddha, almost a month after the rest of the Buddhist-world did so, there is widespread discussion about threats to Buddha Sasana provoked by some recent incidents. Regarding the views expressed about postponing Vesak celebrations in my article ‘May Day and postponement Vesak 2026’ (The Island, 25 May), my very good friend Dr Upali Abeysiri has sent me the following comments: “The Mahanayakas have a good reason to postpone Vesak. The dawning of the full moon has to be on the same constellation (nekatha) as when the Buddha was born and attained enlightenment. Although Adhi Poya is reckoned as the second full moon arising in the same calendar month, this is supposed to be an odd exception.” Though it would have been ideal if a consensus could have been reached prior to the split of celebrations, perhaps, it does not matter very much as celebrations occur on a symbolic rather than an actual date, there being no historical or archaeological evidence confirming exact dates.
Whilst there are no direct threats to Buddha Dhamma, as the expanding horizons of science continue to confirm the fundamentals of Buddha Dhamma, there is no doubt whatsoever that there are threats to Buddha Sasana. However, these threats become important as the Buddha Sasana performs the pivotal role in protecting and propagating the Dhamma and, hence, become an indirect threat to Dhamma itself. Therefore, it should be the concern of all Buddhists and it is in this spirit I am making some comments which some may interpret as disrespectful to the Maha Sangha. I can reassure that my intentions are entirely directed towards the preservation of the Buddha Dhamma and Sasana. Though the Buddha proclaimed that the Sasana consists of Bhikkhu, Bhikkhuni, Upasaka and Upasika, for all practical purposes Sasana had been led by Bhikkhus, often at the expense of others.
There is hardly any doubt that there are external forces at play in Sri Lanka and even some Buddhists seem to object to Sri Lanka being called a Buddhist country. Interestingly, no one seems to object to countries like the UK and the USA being called Christian counties. I
There is no registration or baptism in Buddhism and there are no rewards for Buddhists for conversions. As I pointed out in a previous article, ‘How does the Buddha differ’ (The Island, 1 May) unlike most other religions, Buddhism is not a ‘high-demand’ religion, nor ‘law-based’ religion and is not exclusivist. Perhaps, it is this liberalism, pacifism and gentleness, which are the real strengths, that are being exploited as weaknesses by others.
There will always be external threats and the Buddha too faced many during his lifetime. Before addressing those, is it not more important to address the threats within? One of the most important problems seems to be the breakdown of discipline. Bhikkhus are bound by Vinaya rules, laid down by the Buddha and some recent incidents highlight total deviations. Though there were many previous incidents like unsubstantiated claims of Arahanthood, Bhikkhus attacking each other on YouTube and Bhikkhus conducting YouTube channels, not for the propagation of the Dhamma but for the accumulation of rupees, attention was focused after the detection of 22 young monks carrying narcotic drugs.
Though many commentators were quick to condemn the Sangha on this account, we need to go deeper. Narcotic menace has become a huge problem in Sri Lanka and it looks as if the drug lords would resort to anything to achieve their objectives. Though it looks as if some gullible young monks had been duped by drug lords, we need to question why it was possible. Is it due to the lack of supervision of these novices by their seniors that allowed them to accept a request in a WhatsApp group? Should there be checks and balances on foreign travel by Bhikkhus?
What shocked Buddhists was what followed next; the arrest of the Nayaka of Atamasthana for allegedly having sex with a minor. Anuradhapura was our first capital and Sri Maha Bodhi is the longest surviving authenticated tree in the world. Ruwanweliseya and Jetawanaramaya were among the ten tallest man-made structures in the ancient world, Jetawanaramaya still holding the Guiness record for the largest stupa in the world. Cyberspace is full of theories. Whilst some have condemned the Nayaka Thero even before the conclusion of inquiries whilst others claim that this was a coup by another Nayaka Thera in an attempt of succession.
I was intrigued, reading in a Sri Lankan newspaper about the 80th birthday celebrations of a Nayaka priest, who was convicted in London in 2012 of historical child sex abuse and sentenced to seven years in prison. I remember the case very well as he was the head of the Vihara, we had our first contact on relocating to the UK. I also remember his devotees, who believed that he was wrongly accused, collecting over £50,000 for an appeal. In spite of being represented by one of the top Barristers in the UK, the conviction was upheld but the jail-term was reduced by a year. His name is still on the sex-offenders register in the UK and he is permanently prevented from association with children. One can argue that as he has served the sentence and not reoffended, this should not be held against him but what baffled me is that he is still being referred to as the Chief Sangha Nayaka. Should a person on the sex-offenders register be the Chief Sangha Nayaka?
It is high time we put our own house in order before fighting the external enemies. It is reported that the former president CBK has written to the Mahanayakas requesting urgent reform and we should be obliged to her for taking the lead.
There are many aspects that need urgent reform, the first being removal of caste barriers practiced by some Nikayas, which is the greatest insult to the Buddha who promoted equality. The second is the active encouragement of Bhikkhuni Sasana which has not happened in spite of the landmark ruling by the supreme court. The third is the establishment of proper disciplinary processes under a single Adhikarana Sangha Nayaka with powers and support than allowing the government to take over the control of even non-criminal Vinaya matters.
There are many other issues that need settlement like the controversy of the land of Buddha’s birth which seems to linger on. An expert committee should hear all evidence and settle this issue once and for all.
As I have pointed out on many occasions in these columns, it is high time a Dhamma Sangayana was held, as the last one was 70 years ago. Ideally, it should be different with active participation of lay experts as well. It is the duty of us Buddhists to ensure that the words of wisdom of the Buddha continue to enlighten generations to come.
By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana
Features
Vijaya Kumar: Academic, Activist & Genial Fellow-Traveller
The University of Ceylon, Peradeniya, was in our time, a less-crowded residential university, where everybody knew everybody else or at least knew of everybody else.
I knew of Emeritus Professor Vijaya Kumar of the Department of Chemistry at Peradeniya, or Kumar, as we referred to him fondly, before I got to know him. His dear wife Savitri, also a member of the academic staff of the Department of Chemistry, was nicknamed Kumee, by some of their students (of which vintage is unknown to me) and the duo were thereafter referred to affectionately as Kumar and Kumee.
The Faculty of Science became a regular haunt of mine as I would go there in the company of my batchmates to attend lectures on Basic Mathematics given by Professor Maheswaran, as it was a requirement for our General Arts Qualifying Examinations. I would also go there to listen to some excellent talks under a programme that was held in the auditorium of the Science Faculty referred to as “Popular Science Gossip”. The “gossip” at these talks were not confined solely to science but were broad enough to include Literature, History and other branches of knowledge as well. I would often spot Kumar in the audience at these talks or bump into him in the corridors of the Science Faculty. But I got to know him personally only after he became the Warden of Arunachalam, my hall of residence, during my undergraduate years initially, and later, as a member of the academic staff of the Department of English.
Our Science Faculty undergraduate contemporaries, especially those at Arunachalam Hall and its immediate neighbour, Jayatilaka Hall, both within a stone’s throw away from the Science Faculty, shared many an anecdote about Kumar and their other lecturers. One of these anecdotes, had to do with a spectacular (motor car) driving feat of Kumar’s. Legend has it that he drove from his university bungalow-home to the Faculty of Science deploying only the reverse gear of his car! Kumar, on hearing of this, had told certain of his student friends, including some who became his colleagues later on, that this story is one of the biggest yarns he had heard in his life!
Some of his one-time younger colleagues, now in retirement like Kumar, tell me that Kumar exuded warmth and friendliness in all of his professional and administrative interactions with others in the wider university community. But there was no warmth or mercy for those who indulged in the unsavoury pastime of student ‘ragging’. He was a very strong proponent of the need to ensure to all freshers an environment free of the menace of ‘ragging’. He remained ever-vigilant during the ‘ragging’ season. There are stories of his chasing ‘raggers’ and catching them. Professor Maheswaran, who later became an intimate friend and remains so after more than half a century, was another who was fiercely opposed to ‘ragging’. I was a personal witness to Mahes chasing a ‘ragger’ up and down the stairs of the main library to nab him. Yet another of his students has noted that Kumar’s office room in the Faculty was a total mess at all times. It had tables, piled so high with books and documents that one could not easily spot Kumar at his desk. He, however, had the knack of pulling out from amidst the clutter, any document that he needed at any given time. If anybody were to volunteer to help tidy his desk, Kumar would respond firmly with “Don’t you touch my desk!”.
Kumar, like several of his colleagues in the other faculties as well, had his own eccentricities. According to information received from reliable sources, Kumar who taught Organic Chemistry used to carry his lecture notes in his shirt or trouser pocket with ‘the entire lecture condensed in point form on a half-sheet or half of a half-sheet of paper’. The way he rummaged through his sling bag filled to the brim with stuff to find an item that he needed was another ritual that amused onlookers.
Kumar, interestingly enough is a Royal-cum-Thomian product, in that he had his primary education at S.Thomas’ Prep School, Kollupitiya and the entirety of his secondary education at Royal College, which he entered in 1953. In a note written by Kumar himself, he notes that despite having had excellent teachers at Royal, his was not a notable school career. He goes on to say that “the only achievement I could boast of was my being the joint-winner of the school General Knowledge Prize”. However, he had been active in a Scout Group outside of school (1st Port of Colombo, Sea Scouts) where he “was Queen’s Scout, Patrol leader, and later, Assistant Scout Master”.
Kumar entered the Faculty of Science of the University of Ceylon in 1961 and secured from it an honours degree in Chemistry in 1965. He joined the academic staff of the Department of Chemistry in the Faculty of Science, University of Ceylon, Peradeniya in 1965 and left the following year for Magdalen College at Oxford University, from which institution he obtained his doctorate in Chemistry. His entire teaching career was at Peradeniya, where in the period 2003-2006 he served as the Dean of the Faculty of Science, a position that his late father-in-law had held a few decades earlier.
Among the other highlights of his career are: Chairman of the Industrial Technology Institute (formerly the Ceylon Institute of Scientific and Industrial Research, CISIR); Member (representing Sri Lanka) of the Geneva-based UN Commission on Science and Technology from 1999 to 2007 and its President from 2001-2003; President of the Sri Lanka Estate Workers Union from 1989 onwards; Member of the Politburo of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party from 1988 to 2014 and currently, a member of the Executive Committee of the National People’s Power (NPP).
Vijaya and Savitri Kumar are parents of daughters Shamala and Ramya, who are following in the footsteps of their parents: with the former teaching in the Department of Agricultural Economics in the Faculty of Agriculture, University of Peradeniya and the latter, in the Department of Community Medicine at the University of Jaffna.
(I wish to thank the following who assisted me in the writing of this brief essay: Mr. Bandula Warnakulasuriya, Emeritus Professor Ratnayake Bandara, Professor Mahinda Wickramaratne, Professor Swarna Wimalasiri and Mr. Manik de Silva).
*Editor’s note: Prof. Vijaya Kumar, a member of the NPP’s National Executive Committee and is still active in politics turns 84 today. This article by Tissa Jayatilaka, former Executive Director of the United States – Sri Lanka Fulbright Commission for Mutual Academic Exchange, was written for an upcoming collection of essays on Kumar’s life by his friends.
(Colombo Telegraph)
By Tissa Jayatilaka
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