…Sarasavi takes English writing beyond the bookshelf — and dreams of taking Sri Lankan stories to the world

By Ifham Nizam

What happens when readers finally see themselves in the pages of a book?

For Amendra Haputhanthri, Director of Sarasavi Bookshop (Pvt) Ltd, the answer is profound: something changes. A place, a culture, a memory and an identity that may have remained invisible suddenly become visible through literature.

“Nothing is as exciting for us as finding our own place or our own stories in a book,” Haputhanthri says.

It is this conviction that lies behind Fairway Street of Stories, a three-day literary celebration designed to place Sri Lankan English writers and their stories directly before readers.

The event, organised by Sarasavi, will take place from September 4 to 6, from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m., at the Dutch Hospital Precinct, bringing together more than 1,000 titles by Sri Lankan English writers and a programme featuring author readings, book signings, children’s activities, an open mic and what promises to be one of the more unusual attractions — a book club quiz.

Eight authors will participate in readings and meet-and-greet sessions, giving readers an opportunity not merely to buy a book but to meet the person who created it.

Two book clubs, each represented by four members, will battle it out in the quiz. The winning team will receive a one-night stay at Fairway Hotel, while the runners-up will receive a book pack and a Sarasavi discount voucher.

There is also something for children, with a children’s author conducting a reading followed by an interactive session.

Every Story, another partner of the event, will explore women’s experiences through reading and drawing, while the open-mic platform will give unpublished writers an opportunity to read their poetry, prose and memoirs before an audience.

But Fairway Street of Stories is about far more than three days of literary entertainment.

For Haputhanthri, it represents another step in a much larger campaign — to bring Sri Lankan English writing out of the shadows, build a stronger reading culture and eventually take Sri Lankan stories to international readers.

A literary mirror

Her own journey towards this mission began inside Sarasavi.

When Haputhanthri joined the company, she was involved in the imports section. Selecting books meant going through publishers’ catalogues and reading synopsis after synopsis.

Among the international titles, she began encountering familiar names.

“Ashok Ferrey, Michael Ondaatje, Shyam Selvadurai and even Carl Muller,” she recalls.

They were Sri Lankan writers, but their books had been published overseas.

There was something different about reading them.

“These were Sri Lankan stories. I felt closer to those stories than reading a story from New York or London. This is more close to me. I felt it.”

That feeling became more powerful when she encountered a speech by Michael Ondaatje at a Gratiaen Trust award ceremony.

Ondaatje’s reflections on discovering Sri Lankan writers and finding a literary representation of one’s own country struck a deep chord with her.

It made her think about what happens when a reader finally encounters his or her own world in literature.

“I felt enlightened, basically, to find that,” she says.

From that point, she began giving greater prominence to Sri Lankan writers writing in English on Sarasavi’s shelves.

A special rack was created for local English-language authors, while staff members were encouraged to speak to customers about these books rather than simply allowing them to disappear among thousands of other titles.

The idea was simple: recommendation can create discovery, and discovery can create readers.

The books that never reached readers

But another conversation would reinforce Haputhanthri’s sense of responsibility.

At the launch of Chiara Mendis’s Lanka Box, she spoke with Jeremy Muller, son of the late Carl Muller and founder of Jam Fruit Tree Publications.

The conversation turned to Carl Muller and his celebrated work.

“I asked Jeremy, is The Jam Fruit Tree his first book?”

The answer shocked her.

Jeremy told her that Muller had written around 200 manuscripts before that — manuscripts that were eventually burnt because nobody wanted to publish them.

“Those stories never came to the public,” Haputhanthri says.

“Just imagine how much of a loss that is.”

The conversation also touched on another writer whose work never found a sufficient publishing platform.

For Haputhanthri, the message was unmistakable.

Publishers and booksellers have a responsibility not merely to sell established authors but to help promising voices find readers.

She remembers invoking a familiar principle from Spider-Man: great power comes with great responsibility.

“I remembered that there is something that I have to do, something that no one has done before. It’s to promote and bring these authors to the marketplace.”

That thinking gradually evolved into initiatives that provide authors with spaces for launches, readings and interaction with readers.

Fairway Street of Stories is an extension of that philosophy.

More than selling books

Haputhanthri is emphatic that Sarasavi’s role should not be reduced to selling books.

The company’s vision, she says, is built around making books available and contributing to an intelligent and educated generation enriched with good morals.

“This particular event coincides with the Sarasavi vision,” she says.

The books at the event will be available at a 20 per cent discount, but the real objective is to encourage people to pick up a book, meet an author and begin reading.

“Books should add some value to you. They should give you personal growth. It should not be a waste of money.”

For Haputhanthri, the moral dimension of reading is particularly important.

She sees reading as something capable of shaping not only knowledge and intelligence but also character.

That philosophy, she says, is deeply connected to Sarasavi’s founder, an avid reader who continues to contribute to the company even at the age of 82.

“He is still coming to work. He’s still advising us. I think he is the reason that Sarasavi is what it is today.”

A country full of stories

The challenge now is to ensure that Sri Lankan stories do not remain confined to Sri Lanka.

Haputhanthri believes the country possesses a wealth of material capable of attracting international readers.

“We need to take our stories to the global arena,” she says.

Sri Lanka’s food, landscapes, wildlife, history and culture have already attracted worldwide interest. Literature, she argues, should be no different.

“People will love our stories. As much as they love our food and our culture and our country itself, they will definitely love our stories.”

But getting there requires more than simply translating a book and putting it online.

Good translators, editors and proofreaders are essential.

“The editor’s role has not been recognised enough,” she says.

She points to internationally published Sri Lankan writing as evidence of how much editorial work can go into transforming a manuscript into a book capable of reaching a global audience.

The journey to the international market, she believes, could begin regionally.

“We don’t have to go to UK level, but at least to India level. From there we will start.”

Haputhanthri has raised the subject with major international publishing houses whenever she meets their representatives, including Penguin Random House, HarperCollins, Macmillan, Bloomsbury and Hachette.

She also sees opportunities in developing online platforms through which Sri Lankan books could reach readers overseas.

It is a mammoth task, she admits.

But somebody has to begin.

The danger of not reading

There is another issue that concerns Haputhanthri — the tendency to copy rather than create.

Sri Lanka is a small market, she says, and businesses sometimes repeat what others have already done rather than thinking differently.

“If you think widely, if you think out of the box, you can come up with new ideas and businesses in the book trade itself.”

For her, the solution is surprisingly simple.

Read.

“Only a reader would do that.”

She believes originality itself is linked to reading because exposure to different ideas allows people to think beyond the obvious.

“The copying part is that originality is not coming from you, simply because you don’t read books.”

A simple invitation

Ultimately, Haputhanthri’s message about Fairway Street of Stories is not complicated.

Come

Especially if you do not consider yourself a reader.

“Just come, especially if you’re not a reader,” she says.

Visitors can sit through an author reading, listen to people discuss books and speak to readers.

They can even approach Sarasavi staff and ask a simple question:

“I’m not a reader, but I want to find this transformational power. How do I do that? What are the books that I should read?”

That, perhaps, is the real purpose of the event.

Not simply to sell 1,000 titles.

Not simply to put eight authors on a stage.

Not simply to conduct a quiz or an open-mic session.

But to create the possibility of a first book.

A first author

A first story that makes someone pause and say: This is my world. This is my story.

And perhaps, from that moment, a reader is born.

For Sarasavi, the ambition is ultimately summed up in a deceptively simple philosophy.

“Our success is the reason is books,” Haputhanthri says. “And what we want to give to society is also the same success through books.”

by Rajan Philips

The global tariff blackmail of the Trump Administration in Washington ran into the Canadian Sheild last week at the 45^th Parallel. After year-long efforts to salvage the legally binding free trade agreement between Canada, Mexico and the US, from Trump’s illegally executed tariffs, Canada’s Prime Minister Mark Carney said enough is enough and pulled out of all trade talks with the US. The cessation of talks is a shocking development in the geopolitics of world trade and will likely turnout to be the trade-equivalent of Donald Trump’s military misadventures in the Middle East.

Carney is now striking a defiant tone, virtually taking off from the departing hurrah of defiance of his predecessor Justin Trudeau. But Carney, unlike no other state or government leader anywhere, brings to his tone and text the sheer gravitas of a former Central Bank Governor of two G7 countries – Canada, during the 2008 Great Recession; and Great Britain during Brexit. His statement after the collapse of the trade talks has been universally called Davos II, the first being Mr. Carney’s January statement at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland.

Now he is discarding all the moderate abstractions – such as the US monetizing its global hegemony – and is calling Trump’s tariff offensive for what it is – a global blackmail. His remark that the Trump Administration signs its deals in pencil struck a chord in the US, not the White House. The Canadian Prime Minister even alluded to America’s mountain of $40 trillion debt, which the Trump Administration is dismissing as a mere a number, and added what markets do when one’s economic house is not in order. Tongue-in-check he added that Canada’s house is in order.

Sticking Points

One of the sticking points that led to the collapse of the US-Canada trade talks was the last-minute American insistence that Canada should follow the same tariff protocols as the US with common trading partners and that Canada should not pursue free trade agreements with others. That was too much of an ask. Ever since Trump began imposing tariffs on imports from Canada in utter violation of the existing free trade agreement, Prime Minister Carney has been warning Canadians that the old trade relationship with the US is over and that Canada must vigorously expand its trade with non-US partners to extra-compensate for the fallout with the US.

He has been remarkably successful, much to the chagrin of the White House, and Carney’s new defiance is receiving admiration and support from everyone who has had it with Trump. The Chinese are literally applauding, with China’s Global Times calling Canada and China “the only countries daring to respond to US pressure with reciprocal measures. In September, the Canadian Prime Minister is scheduled to address the European Union Parliament while attending the State of the Union address by European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen.

For over a year now, Trump has been striking deals with scores of countries, including Sri Lanka, all agreeing to his terms to avoid being hit with even higher tariff rates. Their implementation has been a nightmare and has gotten worse after the US Supreme Court ruled that the largest category of Trump tariffs was illegal. China has defied Trump tariffs from the outset and has been making bilateral arrangements from time to time. Canada and Mexico have been spared much of the Trump tariffs because of their free trade agreement with the US, but Trump selected specific industries, such as the auto sector, steel, aluminium and forestry products in Canada for imposing 25-50% tariffs. Lately, he added a plethora of Canadian exports from hockey sticks to paper plates for 50% tariff.

At USD 20 billion, the last category of exports constitutes only 5% of the $400 billion worth of Canadian goods exported to the US, but the new tariffs will disproportionately impact small industries and cause the elimination of about 90,000 jobs. In order to avert this, Canada intensified negotiations and was prepared to accept a certain level of tariff regime even though that would be in violation of the free trade agreement. The talks were seemingly going well and an agreement seemed to be in place with Trump announcing that a deal was all but ready for signing. Then all of a sudden and just before midnight on Friday, 21 August, Prime Minister Carney pulled the plug and ordered the Canadian team to return to Canada from Washington.

The Canadian version of the breakdown is that the Americans were bringing up new demands and restrictions at the last minute and that three of them were totally unacceptable to Canada. As Prime Minister Carney succinctly put it, “We cannot accept what they’ve offered, and we will not give what they’ve asked.” The three unacceptable asks were – to exclude specific trucks produced in Canada from tariff reduction; for Canada to apply to all of its trading partners the same tariffs that US was applying to them; and to remove the requirement for US online and streaming services to provide French summaries and labelling for their products entering Canada.

Free Trade or Tariffs

The free trade vs tariff debate is perhaps older than globalization vs nationalism. Neither binary is wholly incompatible. Free trade and targeted tariffs, not universal tariffs, can co-exist just as the new globalization and the old nationalism can and do co-exist. The bilateral experiences of Canada and the US are instructive on both fronts. For two quintessentially immigrant countries with similar pre-colonial, colonial, and postcolonial multi-cultural experiences, Canada and America are also an odd pair of countries.

Geographically, the two countries are almost equal at close to 10 million square kilometres each, and share the world’s longest border spanning 9,000 kilometres. The US population at 350 million is almost nine times Canada’s 40 million people. The economies and incomes are even wider – US GDP is $31T and per capita income $90,000 vs. Canada’s GDP of $2.3T and $56,000 per capita income. The national debts exceed the GDP in both countries – 125% in the US and 113% in Canada.

Politically, the US began as loose federation and evolved towards greater centralization and has now reached the point, thanks to the Roberts Court, of having a ‘unitary executive’ president in Donald Trump – apparently, not only for America but also for the rest of the world. Canada, on the other hand, began as a highly centralized polity and has considerably loosened over time to become a successful exponent of a bilingual (French and English) parliamentary federalism.

As political historians have noted, the state of Canada forged a nation along a railway stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific. After World War II and the advent of the automobile and the freight truck, Canada’s sole east-west rail corridor has developed multiple north-south road connections to the US south of the border. The ease and flexibility of the latter has facilitated the expansion of continental trade.

What began as free trade between Canada and the US in the late 1980s has since encompassed Mexico to create the largest free trading bloc in the world. The bloc has a total population of 520 million people and a GDP of $35T. The total trilateral trade is valued at $1.9T, with Canada and the US accounting for $719T. The bloc accounts for 14% ($3T) of the world’s total exports and 18% (18%) of imports. More than quantum of trade it is the cross-border integration of production that has become the hallmark of the North American free trade regime. Nowhere more so than in the auto sector. Auto parts literally go back and forth across borders before they are assembled into a finished vehicle.

Throwing Rocks in the Harbour

The politics of US-Canada free trade has a chequered history. At the turn of the 20^th century, it was the Canadian Liberals led by then Prime Minister Wilfrid Laurier who promoted free trade with America which the Conservatives denounced. In 1930, the US Congress passed the Smoot- Hawley Tariff Act to raise tariffs on some 20,000 imported goods as protection from foreign competition at the onset of the Great Depression. The sponsors of the bill were Republican Senator Reed Smoot from Utah and Republican Congressman Willis Hawley from Oregon. They were egged on by the cabinet of then President Herbert Hoover and manufacturers and industrialists. Hoover denounced the bill but was forced to sign it by vested interests.

The external reactions were swift. Canada took the lead in retaliating against the US raising tariffs under the new law. Another nine countries joined the retaliation, many others protested, and all of them found alternative trading partners to reduce trading with the US. The upshot was to aggravate the effects of the depression impacting workers, farmers and their families everywhere. Global trade fell by 66% and the tariff law was put in cold storage. Political punishment came later with vengeance. Smoot and Hawley did not return to Congress and the Republicans were badly defeated as was President Hoover in the 1932 election.

As well, over 1,250 economists had signed a petition asking President Hoover to veto the tariff legislation. Henry Ford visited the White House to make a special veto plea. The President agreed with all of them but signed the bill into law, nonetheless. This was also the time when the celebrated British welfare economist Joan Robinson, famously called retaliatory tariffs, in an appropriately titled essay: “Begger my Neighbours,” as the equivalent of throwing rocks in the harbour of one’s country in retaliation to other countries that have rocky coasts. But Robinson was not necessarily an advocate of free trade and she did not rule out the potential in retaliation in practical circumstances.

Ninety six years after the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Law was enacted and jettisoned, Donald Trump resurrected it to impose 50% tariffs on imports from Canada. The Smoot-Hawley Act allows the President to impose tariffs without Congressional approval. Unlike in 1930, the current Carney government tried negotiations that have come to naught now and precipitated retaliatory tariffs on a much wider scale than in 1930. The trilateral free trade agreement between Canada, the US and Mexico (called CUSMA in Canada) that was renewed during Trump’s first term is also in suspension and there is no indication of its renewal any time soon. The Trump Administration may try a bilateral agreement with Mexico just to spite Canada, but it will have to be on Trump’s terms.

38 years ago when the first free trade agreement was reached between Canada and the US, the Canadian public was emotionally divided over it. Then Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, a conservative and close ally of Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher, was castigated by critics as “a political weather-vane and an economic comprador.” He narrowly won a bitterly fought election for the Liberals by securing a large number of seats in the two provinces of Quebec and Alberta while coming second in every other province and territory. The free trade agreement turned out to be an apparent boon for the Canadian economy but the real benefits and costs are still debated. The Trump Administration and its tariffs have reignited the old debate.

Before the 1988 free trade agreement, 68% of Canadian exports went to the US, and the proportion increased to 76% over 38 years. After Trump’s tariffs the US share of Canadian exports has quickly fallen back to the old 68% as industries and businesses found alternative markets elsewhere. One of the criticisms of the free trade agreement and its continuity has been that it lulled Canadian governments and entrepreneurs to rely on the US market without exploring alternative market opportunities.

The entire thrust of the Carney response to Trump has been to explore new markets and trade partners outside the US. Thanks to Trump, Prime Minister Carney has the political wind on his back with 80% of the public supporting him in opinion polls. A new trade deal may eventually be reached but if one could be achieved during the remainder of Trump’s term is the question. The bigger question is the implication for all the trade deals that Trump has forced other countries to sign under tariff duress.

Even as the US under Trump is getting isolated in the world, Trump himself is getting isolated in the politics of his own country. People are fed up with his lack of attention to their economic woes, made worse by tariff economics, and his preoccupation with building legacy monuments for himself in Washington. Trump’s approval ratings are down, the Republican prospects in the November mid term elections are getting worse, and almost all of Trump’s initiatives remain mired in courts with no immediate way out. On the Iran front, Trump is giving up on his military strikes that has cost the US $37.5B, and is threatening to carry out “the most crushing economic operation” targeting Iran and its trading partners. To paraphrase a more historic twist of phrase, the new threat may turn out to be – some crushing, some operation.

(Excerpted from In Pursuit of Governance, autobiography of MDD Pieris)

In January of 1956 I entered the second year university entrance form of St. Joseph’s College. There was a nice quiet atmosphere in the school. The discipline was good and the teaching excellent. Mr. Rajapakse who taught us European history was one of the best history teachers that I had encountered even counting the university. So was Mr. Kuruvilla who taught English literature. The English class being small we received personal attention from a fine teacher. I later found that there were few in the English Department in the University to match him, and this included a lecturer from Cambridge University attached for a period to the department.

Father Peter Pillai himself took classes on the constitutional aspects of government, where we had to read books such as “Constitutional Law” by Wade and Philips and “The Law and the Constitution” and “The Constitution of Ceylon” by Sir Ivor Jennings. Father Peter was a remarkable person. He was a Master of Arts, a Master of Science, a Doctor of Philosophy and a Doctor of Divinity. He had a clear and distinguished mind and in spite of his heavy responsibilities as Rector found the time to teach physics in one class, divinity in another and aspects of constitutional development and constitutional law in yet another.

I have been very fortunate in being taught by teachers with experience, skill and very good minds both at Thurstan and at St. Joseph’s. Just to cite one example from Thurstan, Mr. B.J. Perera who taught us history in the fourth form was a research scholar whose learned articles on Ceylon history were being published in “The Ceylon Historical Journal.” We owe a lot to these teachers.

Most schools of course had interesting teachers. They were what could be called “characters.” St. Joseph’s was not an exception. Space would not permit me to dwell at length on this subject. I would therefore mention only one such case. The teacher concerned, taught a language. It was not English. His approach to, as well as his use of the English language was innovative, picturesque and refreshing. Structure and syntax were too confining for his liking. One day therefore, he had requested a startled monitor of the class to “run up downstairs and bring the mark book,” which had been temporarily taken to the office. On another day, he had pounced upon a restless and irreverent class, and threatened them with dire consequences if they “laugh in front of my back!”

These kind of refreshingly interesting sayings naturally evoked a corresponding response from his pupils. Therefore, one day, during a more convivial moment, when this teacher had confessed to having three daughters, one of his more intrepid pupils had politely inquired, whether they were all girls! According to reports, all goodwill and conviviality had instantly vanished. He was not prepared to tolerate such detailed investigation.

Astrology

My father was a student of astrology. He pursued the subject occasionally in his spare time out of personal interest. Sometimes he used to look at my horoscope or my mother’s and say something which by and large, curiously turned out to be correct. Now, after the trauma of changing schools hurriedly he had looked at my horoscope, and one day, in his customary quiet tone said something disturbing. He said that I had entered a bad period which was going to last for five or six years. He predicted the arising of unforeseen difficulties and mental worry and went on to make the startling remark. “This is the worst period in your horoscope. After this, you will never have such a bad period right to the end.”

Finally he said “There is no threat to your life, and you will come through the difficulties, but you will undergo a great deal of mental suffering.” My parents and I have always had a frank dialogue and I understood that my father’s intention in saying all this was to forewarn me. Fortunately nature had given me a strong temperament. I was not one who could easily be demoralized.

I enjoyed a happy year at St. Joseph’s. I found the time whilst studying to play second XI cricket for the school, and thereafter to be selected to the rather small first X1 pool. Mr. John Pulle the well known All Ceylon Cricketer coached the second XI. We had a strong batting line up and he decided that my services would be more useful in the bowling department as I was tall and reasonably well built. He did not want to waste such a physique. One day at practice he took me to the middle of the pitch and said “Pieris, I am going to send you as last man.”

Then pointing to four well known land marks, he continued, “your job is to go out there and hit the ball into Darley Road, The Home for the Aged, Bonjean Hall and the swimming pool. I don’t want singles and twos.” Never had I been given such an open license for anything. He was a hard task master and was not totally satisfied with my subsequent performance. I managed to hit a few over the wall and into Darley Road, once hitting a passing bus. I also succeeded in hitting a few onto Bonjean hall. But the home for the aged and the swimming pool proved beyond me, to the disappointment of Mr. John Pulle.

A shock

With the entrance examination looming, I went for first XI practices and played in some third term matches against some clubs. The main school matches were due to commence in the New Year in January. In the meantime, I had an examination to sit. I had done steady and regular work and was reasonably confident that I would not fare too badly. In a competitive situation, whether it was sufficient to get me into the university was another matter. There perhaps some luck was also necessary.

Father Peter Pillai

We were given two weeks study leave to be spent revising at home, and almost five days of this period had elapsed when one evening a classmate of mine turned up at home on his bicycle. What he had to tell me was most disconcerting. He said “Father Rector wants to see you first thing tomorrow morning.” When I anxiously inquired what the problem was, he was cagey, but under further questioning said vaguely “I think there is some problem about your subject combination for the examination.”

This was a stunning blow. Only the previous day I had quietly told my mother that I thought I was ready for the examination. Now this bolt from the blue had descended. All of us spent a tense and uncomfortable night. Early next morning I was outside the large door of Father Peter Pillars room. The time was about 7.30 a.m. Already, a queue had formed of parents and others who had come to see him. Sharp at 8.00 am. as was the custom, he personally opened the door. I stood out a little to be seen. He saw me and immediately called me in explaining to those ahead of me in the queue that this was an urgent matter.

When we were both seated, he said “I am very sorry, but your subject combination does not fit any of the combinations permissible for the examination. It is also our fault. We should have checked out your subjects, when you entered school. Evidently, Thurstan too had not checked. I have telephoned Balmond (Registrar of the University) and he says nothing can be done unless you change the combination. But it is clearly too late now. There are only a few days to go before the examination. I am really sorry.”

Then seeing the combination of shock and forlornness in my face, the Rector went on to say, “Apparently you cannot offer both Sinhalese and English as subjects for the examination. I do not know why that should be so, but those are the regulations.” Then viewing my complete stunned immobility, Father Peter Pillai, no doubt more to console me than anything else said “I notice that you had obtained a credit in Latin at the Senior School Certificate Examination. The Latin papers consist mainly of several passages in Latin and English for translation and comment. There are no text books to master. Would you like to drop Sinhalese, which is the weaker of your two subjects compared to English and try sitting for European History, Government, English and Latin? Although very late I can get Balmond to agree to a change.”

By this time I was slowly recovering from the blow and beginning to find my voice. I told Father Peter that I had substantially forgotten my Latin since I had not kept up with the subject and that I wouldn’t mind taking a shot at Ceylon History, since I believed I had a knack for History. The Rector appeared quite incredulous at this proposition and most emphatic in his reply. “You will have no chance whatsoever,” he said, adding “Do you know why we do not teach Ceylon history for the university entrance at St. Joseph’s, and teach Indian history instead?” Answering the question, he went on, “That is because of the very high failure rate in Ceylon history.”

Finally, he said, “I am sorry, but the best thing to do is to sit for the examination next year.” I had by now recovered my determination and fighting spirit. “I would like to sit for Ceylon History. In any case I have nothing to lose,” I said. The Rector looked at me in a manner of looking at a person who had completely lost all sense and judgement. “Do you realize,” he asked, “that you will have to sit for two papers of three hours each, the first paper covering the period from the very beginning to the arrival of the Portuguese in 1505, and the second paper covering the period from 1505 to the achievement of Independence in 1948? How are you going to cover two years work in a few days?” was his final and incredulous question.

I said, I realized the near impossibility but would still like to try. The Rector agreed more out of pity than any conviction. He promised to ring the Registrar and make the necessary arrangements. Since, I was in school, I met my history teacher Mr. Rajapakse and told him of my predicament. I was very good in my European history and he liked me as one of his best pupils. He spontaneously volunteered to help. He advised me to rapidly do whatever reading that was possible at home. He then gave me specific times to come to school, when he had free periods. He promised to get hold of the past papers for three years and suggested that we sit together and answer as many questions as possible in point form.

I was immensely grateful for this positive attitude and strong support. I returned home to the other pillar of strength, my mother. She had a temperament which refused to panic, which she seemed to have bequeathed to me. Her focus was not on what had happened, but what had to be done in a situation where every minute counted. Her advice was precise.

She said “Son, you told me a few days ago that you felt ready for the examination. Therefore, stop all work on the other three subjects and spend all your time on Ceylon history.” This kind of learning came later to be called total immersion. But immersion needed water. I had to quickly find some books. I searched diligently and found at home my old copies of Father S.G. Perera’s “A History of Ceylon for Schools” which included coverage of the Portuguese, Dutch and British periods, and Professor G.C. Mendis’ “Ceylon under the British.” Some of my friends found relevant books covering various aspects of the total period written by Ratnasabapathy and Horace Perera, as well as Codrington’s “Early History of Ceylon.” I also found a copy of Geiger’s translation of the “Mahawansa.”

I now gave up all thought of revision of the other three subjects and concentrated solely on Ceylon History. As I read, important sections and parts which I had studied years before came vividly to mind. Sitting with Mr. Rajapakse and answering previous question papers in point form focused attention on issues. more precisely and concentrated my mind. I was also hoping that the Ceylon history papers would come during the middle or towards the end of the examination giving me that much more time. But this was not to be. When the time table came, I found that these two papers came first out of the four subjects I had to sit, and on the same day, morning and afternoon! I was beginning to have an increased respect for my father’s reading of my horoscope!

During this difficult period my mother continued to play a pivotal role not only encouraging me, building up my confidence and providing me with extra nourishment, but also seeing to it that I did not overdo things and burn out. She strictly saw to it that I had eight hours sleep in the night. She used always to say “you must rest your brain. You must have a clear mind.” This calm support was invaluable. Ultimately when I finished sitting the two three hour papers, I felt that I stood a fighting chance of passing. So did my History teacher, who listening to me felt that I had done well enough to be at least on the border.

At that time, those who passed all four subjects at one sitting gained direct admission to the university without going through an interview. But those who had passed in three subjects and had narrowly failed in the fourth were called up before an interview board and those who fared well at the interview were admitted to the limited number of places that existed after the direct entrants were provided for. The question was, had I performed well enough in my Ceylon History to be at least called for the interview, and that too if I had done well in the other three subjects.

Strangely enough, the fact that I seemed to have done reasonably well, given the almost impossible odds added to the mental tension which indeed is a natural part of sitting for an important examination. If I had done badly, there would have at least been the relief of recognizing the inevitable. There would have been closure. But now there was the added tension, emanating from the feeling of being possibly so near, but yet so far.

It was a feeling inimical to the kind of mental stability that one would like to have had during an examination period. I sat for my two papers each, in European history and Government and was quietly confident of passing. Then, at last, amidst the gloom came a ray of light, and tidings of good cheer. At St. Joseph’s I had sat for the prize tests for the upper school history prize and the open English prize. Just the day before I was to sit for my two papers in English, which were my final papers, the school sent a message home to the effect that I had won The P.H.C. De Silva Memorial Prize for Upper School English. It was most thoughtful and kind of the school authorities to have done this.

The mental boost and the confidence it gave me just before my English papers were indescribable. Sitting in St. George’s Hall of the University of Ceylon, Colombo, I felt that I did really well. The anxious and somewhat demoralized student who sat this examination in various halls and rooms of the university did not know at the time, that over 30 years later he was to serve as a member of the governing council of the University of Colombo, a separate university by that time. Such are the twists and turns of life and fate.