The bullock cart vs. the Merc

by O.M. Weerasooriya

A bullock cart had met with an accident with a Mercedes Benz and it was clearly the bullock cart’s fault.  The poor man had tried to stop : but the bull went headlong into the shiny Benz and made a massive dent… 

The bull was now on the floor : right smack in the middle of traffic : and the traffic policeman came rushing in ranting at the bullock cart driver.  The driver of the Mercedes got out – a well dressed middle aged man who from all appearances was well to do. 

The policeman was now at the ‘scene’ and kept ranting at the bullock cart owner who was quite visibly shaking : both in fear: and also, in utter helplessness not knowing if his bull was OK. He started going down on his knees at the foot of the driver of the Mercedes begging his forgiveness.

 The driver of the Mercedes went to the bullock cart owner and put his hands on his shoulder and told him to “take a grip” and “not to worry”. He got the poor man on his feet, and went over to the bull and checked whether the bull was injured.

 After a little cajoling the bull was back on his feet and seemed OK.  The driver of the Mercedes went over to inspect the toppled cart, and helped get it back up.  He then turned to the poor man and told him 

“This is a hunk of metal. Your bull is a living being: look after it first before worrying about my car”  

He then told the policeman to be on his way : assuring him there was nothing more to be done: and then, gave the poor bullock cart owner some money to get the damages to his cart fixed and to ‘buy something for lunch.’   

This incident was observed by a journalist: who wrote about it on the local English Newspaper.

 The man in the Mercedes was the Vice Chancellor of Sri Jayawardenapura University, D E Hettiarachchi, my father’s ‘boss’ at the time. By the way : he also spoke 16+ languages !

Whenever my father has had ‘one too many’, he will ask me to come and recite this story and look deeply into my eyes and tell me in a slow yet firm drawl: 

‘Remember : your education and your wealth is measured by how you treat people: not by a piece of paper or the car you drive.  Better to be uneducated and poor yet a decent human rather than being educated and wealthy and a complete wretched one’

 He often tells me this is why he wanted to go to University, because in his mind ‘proper education’ breeds ‘good human beings’ (I know it is certainly contested: but my dad’s version of ‘education’ was quite different to being ‘qualified’)

 It’s one of those stories which is forever etched in my mind.