Tales– from– the– past– Deepthie

Good Convent Girl

Year -1903- 1906 or there abouts .
Place – An old Christian Missionary 4 Roomed , Thatched Roof School  in Colombo .
Once upon a time, there was this little girl- about 8- 10 yrs old at that time ,  and  lets call her- Cecilia 🙍🏼, who lived with her parents, siblings and the rest of there vast extended family,👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 down a street in Bambalapitiya .
There was no name for that dirt side road back then .
Cecilia and her sisters were the first batch of students to attend this newly minted Christian  Girls School.
Now, little Cecilia was a real cute thing- with a nice hot temper🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ to match, and a no nonsense attitude – a  “ spoilt brat’ in today’s terms .
Back in the day ‘exercise books ‘ pencils etc  were too costly for these young ones to learn the 3 R’s .
A Gal Lella held firmly together with a rectangular wooden frame  and a Gal koora ( stone slate, and a stone stick ), was the  Magic Coloring   Book ,and the gal koora was the Magic Marker , together with perhaps some colored ‘chalk ‘ .
The Class Teacher gave the her young chargers an assignment  and each child was supposed to take the assignment done on the slate  up to the teacher for marking .
It was Cecilia’s turn .👩🏻‍⚕️
The Teacher- looked at it, and gave Cecilia a Failing Grade, and made some very non complementary remarks in front of the whole class .
Little Cecilia  would have none of it .
She grabbed the slate out of the teacher’s hand, raised it over the Teacher’s head, and slammed it on the teacher’s head !!!
There was this teacher- totally horrified,  eyes googling out of her sockets, mouth open , totally tongue tied, with a wooden frame around her neck, and bits of slate on her head and where ever it fell .
Must have been a pretty sight !
Little Cecilia- was  equally mortifed  at what she did .
Too Late !
She did the next best thing –
Ran out of the class,🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️ out of the little school gate, and onto the dirt road, as fast as her little bare feet could carry, with a cloud of dust, trailing behind her !!
She ran all the way home along the  main dirt/ cart road , ( now called Galle Road Bambalapitya )  a distance of about 2 blocks , 🏢🏢and down the dirt side street right up to her home .
She never went back to school again .
I think,🤷🏻‍♀️🏀  little Cecilia  had a learning disability – some form of Dyslexia
This was Cecilia’s School Time Adventure .
Fast Forward –
 1953 January 8th  – another little girl- same age, who now is Cecilia’s grand daughter , with very similar personality to match – wormed her way into this same school- which by now  was very prestigious ALL Girls Convent – Aka- Holy Family Convent- Bambalapitiya .💒💒💒
Lets call her ‘ Grand Daughter  ‘ .
In 1953- the school was celebrating its Golden Anniversary- and photos of all the students were being taken , and Grand daughter tells this to Grandmother Cecilia, who then re- counts this crazy story, amidst much laughter !!!🤣🤣🤣🤣
Grand Daughter- failed the first her  attempt at writing the Admission Test in 1952,   as she handed a  blank paper for English, as she did not understand a word of it,📖📖📖 but, aced the Arithmetic  and Sinhala papers .
 Grand Daughter  was given special private tuition in English to pass the Admission Test to enter this high class school, by a very nice lady in Keleniya called Mrs Gunesekera – a very kind lady, but a very good and  tough teacher .
Grand  Daughter  stuck around this upscale Colombo  School , with many Adventures along the way,  being ,thrown out of class, spanking by teachers and Mother Superior  many times, during the  10 years  she spent there .
But she was a very  tough and determined  persistent brat- a real chip of the old block  one might say .
 
1964—Grand Daughter- finally made it into The Class of 64 .👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦
Her name is — Deepthie Seneviratne !👩🏼🎓
Mrs Gunesekera-  Anslem’s  mother who was the English Teacher at the St. Paul’s School in Keleniya .
Grandmother Cecilia who had only a grade 3-4  education , who knew only how to read ,  and not write , – she passed away in 1965 – in the Merchants Ward- Colombo General Hospital and was really happy to see her little Jewel in the Crown grow up in to a fine young lady ,  now a Medical Student  .
The  side dirt road- is now known as Nandana Gardens – where  some of my extended family still lives, in their ancestral land from the mid 1800’s .
The main dirt / cart road- Galle Road – Bambalapitya .
Hope you all enjoyed my  Tales from A  Long Ago !
EagleD

Funny story from Ariya

Seelan edit-DSC_9457 (3) copy

 

Careful when a rich aristrocat takes a small loan !!

 

Dr Seelan from Botany Bay, James Cook Island, Sydney, was on his way to Sri lanka. He did appear to need a loan and walked to a bank near the airport. When interviewed by an executive of the bank, he told that he was flying to join a reunion of Medicos in Colombo, Sri Lanka and would be away for two weeks. He needed to borrow $5,000 though was not a depositor of the bank. The bank officer informed that they would need some form of security for the loan. Dr Seelan handed over the keys of his spanking new Ferrari. The car was parked on the street in front of the bank and produced the title and everything was in order. The officer agreed to hold the car as collateral for the loan and apologized for having to charge 12% interest. The loan papers were signed and Dr Seelan awaited till he witnessed an employee driving his Ferrari into the bank’s private underground garage and parked it.

Later, the bank’s president and officers enjoyed a good laugh at Dr Seelan’s expence, for using a $250,000 Ferrari, as collateral for a $5,000 loan. Two weeks gone, Dr Seelan returned, repaid the $5,000 and the interest of $23.07.

The bank manager said, “Sir, we are happy and honoured to have had your business, and this transaction did work out very nicely. However, we still remain some what puzzled as to why you had to keep for a meazly loan of $5,000, such a valuable asset as the surety! The fact of the matter is as a result of our doubts while you were away, we did check on your financial status. We found out that you are a highly respected diagnostic and interventional consultant radiologist in Sydney, a multimillioneer, a sophisticated investor with a fleet of very expensive cars, an owner of a superior class yacht, a renown investor in real estate with financial interests all over the world and a distinguished Alumni of Colombo Medical faculty. Dr Seelan replied with a sheepish smile, “Where else in Sydney can I park my new Ferrari for two weeks for a meazly sum of $23.07 and expect it to be guarded and returned securely?”.

Funny Story- Praxy

 

An interesting offer😀😀

When I was in SL I went to St Philip Neri’s church in Fort. On the way out I got into a trishaw and the driver started chatting asking me all sorts of questions
Trishaw driver. ( TD )-  Where are you going?Me- Flower Road
TD.  – Madame do you visit this church every Wednesday?
Me- yes.
TD – Shall I come and wait for you next Wednesday at the same time?
Me- No not necessary
TD- Are you visiting SL?
Me – No I live here
TD- Do you work?
Me- yes
TD what is your job?
Me- a cleaner for Abans.
TD – I can get you a job in Korea. Give me your address and phone number and I will  get back to you. I am going there on a job and you can go with me.
At this stage I got worried and said that I am going to Flower Road to  meet my husband
TD – Where does your husband work?
Me- Ticket conductor on trains and after work he will pick me up.
T D- Today the trains are on strike so how come he is working?
Unfortunately I did  not know that the trains were on strike that day.
Then I pointed my fingers  at a man down Flower Road and said that he is my husband and that he is waiting for me and saying this I told him to stop the trishaw and got out. As I  handed him the money he stroked my hand  and I was lucky to get out .

Praxy

Funny –Events –in–the Days –gone –by– Ariya

 

 

‘RAISING A TOAST’

 

To follow interesting experiences of Praxy and Deepthie

Bring to your attention, a dilemma I faced, an uncommon story!

Unlike the two descriptions  before, no sexual connotations here

Yet similar to theirs, the ‘Raising a toast’ too, is an authentic tale

Background was a retirement party, in a Manor House in Yorkshire

A distinguished, respected physician, was leaving after years forty

Erudite compassionate service celebrated by friends and colleagues

In a grand manner, gents clad in black tie, ladies mimicking fairies

It was customary to invite only close friends and the distinguished

The City Mayor headed the table cladded with his regal paraphernalia

I was included for being ‘The Trust lead Clinician in communication’

Crystal chandeliers, well laden tables, plenty of painted faces, very happy

In spite of soothing music and glittering razzmatazz, I truly felt a bit uneasy

The rest of the gathering were quite animated and vociferously happy

Ladies each dropping hints pompously about the richness of the hubby

Hints of royal connections, new acquisitions of grand mansions and horses

Gossip was dull, to the lad from ‘Narigama’ yet pretended to be a well-healed bunny!

By class as well as physique, I was truly ‘a page boy’ among the knights, shining

However British sense of restrain and pretentious equanimity probably saved my bacon

Glances by man seated across dinning table raised my eye brows and a bit of concern

His sardonic gestures and irritating stares were silently questioning, my inclusion

Must confess, though hail from south of ‘Bentara Ganga’ with toughness and determination

There were few nervous beads of sweat popping, bothering my upper lip and concentration

Alas, time arrived to ‘raise a toast’ to the most decorated physician and colleague, leaving

The brute in front took his chance for a sarcastic shot at me, when all stood up for ‘toasting’

Everyone was ‘raising a toast, with a glass red or white wine, in their right hand

Being a proud ‘teetotaller’ I did the same, but a glass of orange in place of wine

The brute in front took his opportunity to teach, ‘non-pale faced village kolla’ a lesson

For every ones attention he snarled at me, ‘you raise a toast, not with orange but wine’!

Because of my habit of reading bizarre things during my inquisitive childhood

Flashes of anger and a sober thought were equally tying to get my attention

Had in my mind the reason why the term ‘ toast’ was used to honour someone

Of repute specially when they are hanging their boots and leaving the colloquial ring

When giant of a pale face proud man, was trying to hint the crowd my unworthiness

To be among the good and the great of the high society, in the most polite voice,

I did challenge the guy who was nagging me over the glass of orange In my hand,

Whether he would be polite enough to explain us the relevance of raising a toast!

A sudden bombshell like silence changed the entire atmosphere

The lady paediatrician who too was annoyed by this brute’s gesture

Saw the pale face become red and knew it wasn’t entirely due to sips of wine

More joined,  willing him to give ‘the village kolla’s question, an answer credible

I may be five foot nothing but started to feel like a giant of eight or nine

Fair number of colleagues joined pestering for an answer, he was mumbling

Finally with his proud tail tucked between the two massive muscles glutei

Turned to me, crest fallen and admitted of ignorance, of toast, wine connection

I knew that mighty prey is now well and truly stuck between my jaws

But to suit the occasion realised  benevolence is better than being pompous

Gently narrated the origin of the concept of raising a toast to a good fellow in society

Hope you do not mind if I give text of my ‘victorious proud presentation’ in summary

In the twelfth century quality of wine and ale was not  palatable

No where near the sweetness one tastes today in a good tipple

Was a common practice to dip spiced toast  to draw out bad flavours

A young man once quite high lost his piece of toast in his drink for hours

When remembered he could not believe his eyes the horrible concoction

Has now become a clear fluid in glass the toast peace left at bottom

When sipped the fluid tasted completely free of horrible taste or smell

As in few hours piece of toast had completely purified the drink ‘wine’

So to indicate if a person had been a good soul to the society clearing the mess

The term raising a toast was used when  lifted the bloke to indicate his good deeds

Signifies that the society became honourable and worthy because of ‘ his actions’

The term toast joined the vocabulary to express the gratitude to those humble souls

Thank you,

Ariya

Funny– Events– in–the–Days –Gone– By

 

 

HOLIDAY FIREWORKS FROM THE HOPPER HOUSE !

 

Those were hot🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞 April  Avrudu 🇱🇰🇱🇰🇱🇰🇱🇰days , back in the Hopper 🍛🍛🍛House ,🏠🏠🏠🏠when we girls 👩‍👩‍👧‍👦👩‍👩‍👦‍👦used to study , out on the balcony,  burning the midnight oil .🕐🕐🕐

We would drag out our chairs, table lamps🏮🏮sit out on the balcony in small study groups,  and cram away,   Peacefully, way into the warm  tropical night .⚫️⚫️

No- Not Really ..

Not all were Sleeping in Heavenly   Peace  🛏🛏🛏  it seems……

Some  ‘ Restless  Lovers 🚶🚶🚶🚶‘ – (  to use Narme’s words ! )  but,  we used to call them ‘ Sarong Johnnies , would come by, stand under the lamp post on De Saram place , in front of Hopper House ,🥞🥞🏠  making funny noises  and doing things , playing with their ‘Thing’ under the sarong .

It was a while before us  Hopper House  Good Convent Girls  ( not from St Anthony’s Convent )-⛪️⛪️⛪️clued into what was going on ! and it irritated us , 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️disturbed our peaceful study groups .

Many methods 👯‍♂️👯‍♂️were used to discourage these  “ Restless Lovers- Sarong Johnnies  ‘—including our night watchman Mr Perera, who would go out  chasing them off from time to time, , police officers  👨🏼‍✈️👨🏼‍✈️👨🏼‍✈️chasing them away  etc . etc .

Nothing worked – and a Restless Bunch they were, much to our annoyance .

Nights 🌗🌗were getting hotter,  April Avurudu Festivities taking a fever pitch in the City of Colombo and beyond .

I suddenly had a brain wave –  !!

So I informed the all the  girls 👭👭🏃🏽on the  3 floors facing De Saram  Place, about my plan, and not to worry if they hear any unusual noise coming from the 3rd Floor – particularly Room #4- my room balcony .

I purchased a  long  string of fire crackers – “ Rathingcha “ ☄️☄️☄️☄️as we used to call them back then,   real big, loud ones , waited till the ‘ Restless Lovers- Sarong  Johnnies ‘ – were active in their pursuit of  their   Manly  Pleasures.

Then ——

I lit the string of  Fire Crackers-🔥🔥🔥🔥and threw them out the balcony, with all my might !

Off they flew out , ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️  with a Big Bang, into the hot ,   humid tropical night- like so many  Meteorites with a long trail  of blue – white  light and thick  smoke, as if they all  came  right  out of the clear starry tropical  night sky .🌙🌙🌙🌙

And off ran 🏃🏽🏃🏽🏃🏽🏃🏽 the “ Restless Lovers – Sarong Johnnies “ , and ran 🆘🆘🆘🆘they did ,  with all their speed and  might, before “ The  Thing  “ under the sarong caught FIRE !🔥🔥🔥

Peace , Peace , Peace Be Unto YOU All !!🔚🔚

Batch’64– “Funny– Events”– in– the– days– gone- by

 

 

 

 

Dear all
On the topic of funny 😁 events in the days gone by I thought of writing about our Medical College rags. I am writing this in the hope that others too will contribute to
the blog with their 😁 funny stories for friends to share.

When I started my faculty  days I was boarded at St Anthony’s convent at Borella and we used to go by 🚌 bus to Medical College.The Rag week was terrible for me and big Soma……m  was a real pain. He asked me to put a skull cap on my head and when I smiled he asked me to put the smile 😊 in my pocket. So I  smiled then put my finger across  mouth and pretended to put it in my pocket….a pocket that I did not have.
That same day after lectures I boarded the bus back to St Anthony’s convent and when the bus conductor came to collect the bus fare I opened my little handbag 👜 to get the money 💰 I felt something hard and smelling of formaline. The conductor was still waiting to collect the fare so I had a look inside my handbag 👜 to find it was a penis. I just shrieked and the conductor wondered what was happening and asked ‘’ai mokada nona’’ I said “ no nothing “ and paid the fare. When I got to the convent ( I don’t think I told anybody either )but wrapped it up in a piece of paper and put it into the bin. I am sure Soma would have been the culprit along with I think Sera—–e  who used to ride a scooter.
This is my funny story. Praxy

 

Editorial Note: If you have a funny story to tell please forward them to the blog or the webmaster,

Sam