News, Views and More from Batch'64, Faculty of Medicine, Colombo, SriLanka

 

 

 

I once saw a flower and was delighted

Beautiful pink , I soon got attached

‘It was smiling at me’, I quickly deduced

It was yearning to be picked up; I did hallucinate,

I was simply deluded and wanted it to be mine

 

Could not resist, I was a slave of my senses and obliged,

Ignored the thorns, though they were very sharp

Did not matter it was in someone else’s garden

Going through a gamut of desirous feelings

Scraping my hand, grabbed the flower and avulsed

 

With greed to the point of intense desire,

I clung on to it, I had to keep it, ‘my pink rose’

Despite giving me bleeding and pain in the finger!

I got so attached’  I was nearly possessed by it

 

Wanted to keep it and guarded it jealously

Its appearance and fragrance, were heavenly

Every other second, I showed it to someone

When they said, what a pretty thing! I was beaming

 

It is all mine, I found it, and others too like it

But they haven’t got it, I was thrilled

It was blissful to hear the praise

Felt it was not the flower, they praised,

They were all praising me!  

 

Soon it became a part of me

Few fleeting moments, I was happy

Alas! The petals became floppy

Pliability and softness gone

 

The sweet smell, waned next

Became a foul smelling clot

Soon it had shrunken

Then it became a burden

I hated and threw it in a bin

My happiness flown away

 

The flower transiently, I owned

I thought would last and adored

I wanted it to be always with me,

Soon, I was glad to throw it away

The happiness gone, Now I am sad

 

When I analysed it through,

I wasn’t sad, before I saw the flower

So, does it infer, it was the fault of the flower

For smiling at me and perishing later

The flower should not have deceived me!  

 

Is it my eye that is at fault for showing it to me?

I was fine before I saw, that wretched flower

Why did the bewitched flower, invite me?

May be I did not pick the flower

But the flower did pick me, to deceive  

 

What made me to be so attached? 

Why did I allow myself to be deceived?

Did I carry an innate craving?

Didn’t I know, the flower would perish

 

 I should have known the nature’s rule

Every living thing will decay and die

If I knew that the flower would perish

Why did it hurt me when it obeyed the rule?

 

Was it the colour, the shape or the smell?

Why I pandered to transience, is unconceivable

If the flower or my eye did not want to deceive

Who really cheated me, in this ignoble game?

 

I have seen moths jumping to catch flame and die

The flame or moths’ eyes or wings do not want  to kill

So why moths cannot resist the bright lights

Am I the same, to be titillated by pleasure of my senses?

 

My thoughts became darker but deeper

I am now looking for the culprit, who deceived me

My anger for my eye and for the flower are gone

The flower is inanimate and the eye is just a lens

 

Sun rays showed the flower to me

Traversing via eye lens into my brain

But why did my brain, want the flower to be mine

Why was I attracted to a perishable thing, mean? 

 

I was confused, the blame game, crisscrossed

Among the flower, my eye and the brain

Who or what did really make me sad

Will I fall again to the same trap, I asked  

 

Then I saw a pussy cat crossing a busy road

Beautiful creature, blue eyes and a fine fur coat

It was coming towards me, I was very pleased

And I waited on the side, till it crossed the road

 

  Alas, a car hit ‘my cat’ and killed it on the spot

I felt unbearable grief, splitting my heart

I cursed the driver and cursed myself too

Not being able to save ‘my cat’ my sadness grew

 

Neither the cat nor the pink rose really were  mine

Moment I saw them I made them mine,  forgot the nature’s rule

Losing them brought sadness, yet faults were not of the cat or rose

Many flowers wither in the wilderness and other’s cats do die,

I am not sad  for any of those probably because they are not mine

 

  I am beginning to see some light in this conundrum

Realised the creator of sadness, not external  sensual objects

Nor the sense organs but my desire to acquire and clinging

So the wanting to make them ‘mine’ the root cause of  sorrow

and  crying

 

Of everything I see, hear, smell,

taste or feel as my own! 

 Next challenge, I have to conquer,

The reason to place ‘ME’ in the centre

Of everything my senses could muster

 

My parents, my children, my wife

My country, my house, my diploma

My job, my staff, my office, my dogma

Funny thing is that even the foes and adversaries

Are  all ‘mine, so will be my death and my illnesses!

 

    Ariya        

  Looking a lot better than the “Kollas”! 

1. Had an old friend visiting after few decades, our tiny home

   With his beautifully decorated wife of upmarket, impeccable charm

   She did try hard to indicate to me their well-to-do status

   See how she almost succeeded, using her well-chosen phrases

2. ‘Oh, what a darling petite,

   Fine little house you got You have found yourself

   A lovely little slot’

3. She meant theirs is a mansion,

   Well above our level Reflecting her mammon,

   Emphasizing  we are not her equal

                                                                         
4. ‘This sitting room is ever so sweet,

Uncluttered and charming,

All your things are nicely fitted in,

And the ambience is calming’

5. She means, she has a bigger space,

Studded with many stuff Our thread bear survival,

she has understood But happy to bluff


6. Well, who wants all that space like us?

Our drawing room drives me to tears.

I cannot do the cleaning alone anymore

Dusting off twenty chandeliers is no joke!


7. Two charming cosy bed rooms Perfect!

All one needs, I pray

I hate when my husband’s office crowd

Come to our house to stay

8. Their large hospitable house

Frequently visited by many

And probably half the world do assemble

There on Christmas Day! 


9. ‘You’ve even brought your old TV

And it is so appealing I like antiquity

And who needs a flat screen anyway?

10. She means that she has quite a few Modern ‘boxes for viewing’

And long ago the ones like mine,

Had been chucked away



11. ‘Oh, look, a little patio,

It is perfect for a cook on a spit

It is so close to the lounge

You can easily be in and out

12. That means their estate is huge,

And also has a splendid view

Ours has been scarcely used;

She is sociable and we are the contrast

13. ‘Downsizing is such a clever move,

I also admire your bravery’

She means she’d hate to do the same

And could not stand to live like us.

14. Indirectly asking how we manage

To live in this rabbit den

Her possessions are so vast and valuable

Needing an ‘A grade mansion’

15. ‘You have cleverly used your back garden,

Few fruit trees too, nicely tucked in

Must steal a few ideas of saving the lawn,

To my gardener who eternally complain’

16. Again spelling out the enormity of her house

And the garden reflecting the affluence

Being able to keep her own gardener

Showing their high class and the depth of their purse!

17. It was lovely, my affluent old mates

And their well-heeled spouses

When met me in the RU 64,

Did not try to show their high classes

18. They were magnanimous enough to overlook

Visible scars of my harsh struggle

And showed compassion and delicacy

Knowing, my life had not been a doddle

MINI UK RU 64, May 9th, 2015 
I have a great pleasure in reporting on the “Mini RU64” we had on the 9th of May 2015 at Harrow, England. The venue was a Sri Lankan restaurant called “The Meeting Palace”.

It all started when I decided to attend my brothers 80th birthday in England. I just informed CJ, Arulrajah and Sattianayagam of my plans and indicated my wish to meet many batch mates as possible. That set the ball rolling. Most, if not all batch mates in UK were contacted with usual results of responses and no responses. 15 batch mates and 10 spouses attended. The notable absentees were Arulrajah (organizer) who was down with the “Flu” and did wish to share the virus and Praxy de Saram, (aka “RU Addict”) as she was in Sri Lanka at that time. RU addiction must not be so severe as she did not cancel the SL trip!! Others could not attend for various reasons.

It was a time of great fun; I met Titus, Thillaivasan, Bigga and Sunila after about 45 years. George and Shalinee after 5yrs or so. That was great. I also found that some who lived in UK for 45 years met some batch mates residing in UK during the same period for the first time!

The event started with the usual greetings and hugs followed by drinks. Over the four-course meal, photographs taken by Yogamany and myself of the 50th RU64 were shown on a big screen TV. It was a time of reminiscence and test of memory. This was followed by the video of the skits from the 50th RU64 at Beruwela, Sri Lanka (thanks to Mahesan and Selvarani Richards for recording and sharing the copies.) There were plenty of laughs and comments! Also some could not see parts of the skits at Beruwela as they were preparing to perform. Some of us understood the jokes better the second time over. Some who do not understand Sinhala well got a better understanding. I did a bit of translation on the side.

Management At the “Meeting Palace” helped by closing the restaurant to other customers, giving us exclusive use of the 40-60-seat restaurant. This was especially good for the slides, video and dancing. They also provided DJ services that included “Baila” and live drum. The beat was great, resonating in the chest! This got many on the floor. If awards were to be given for the dancing, it would go to Titus. The food was very good, all Sri Lankan style.

After about 5 hours of fun, goodbyes were said with promises and requests to work on another RU64 without requiring major organization as we had in in 2014. “Just select a week-end and venue, inform all batch mates and they book the hotel on their own. Include a dinner and a DJ for Saturday night. No organized talks or tours. This must be sooner than later before we loose our ability to travel or as someone said, ”Before we kick the bucket”

Regional Mini RUs like this one in UK are another less complicated possibility.
How about it North America and Australia?
The attendees

CJ Amerasurya and Daya
Kathir Thillaivasan and Vasnthy
A Sattianayagam and Ianthi
Bigga Gunewardene and Sunila
David Selvarajah and Rajini
George Jayatilleke and Shalinee
Somasegaram and Indira
Sree Mathiaparanam and Maha
S. Sahadevan and Yasodara
Dharma Alagaratnam and Yogamany
Titus Fernando
Shoukat Mamujee
Gaspa Gomez
Donny Selvadurai
Kingsley Jayawardene

PHOTOS.
Some photographs to remember will be included.

Sam, My clever bosom pal,

Your web site has enabled  many mates to read my poetry

However, some had made them sad, For which I am really sorry

Please publish Verses below will cheer them immensely

 

I am now probably for the first time

In my life is care free

And become the person,

I have always wanted to be

 

Oh, No, not the man in the mirror

With baggy eyes, wrinkles

A pot belly and a sagging butt,

Like a lemon propped on two sticks!

 

I certainly do not agonize

Or lament over my looks for long

As I now have, an amazing,

Beautiful life to prolong  

 

 I would never trade

My rich experiences or my friends

For more hair on scalp or a flatter tummy

Nor to look amazingly young

 

I’ve learnt to let go things easily,

And no fuss over mistakes

Whether it is mine or others

And forgiving has crept into my life  

 

A much kinder being, I’ve become to self,

Friends and foes alike

Surprisingly much less critical

And become an easy being to please

 

  I do not curse myself for eating

That extra piece of cake

I do not care,if I did not make my bed,

When not feeling fit

 

  I have earned the right to be messy,

Deaf, dizzy and confused

No routines and nothing is done

Till my mind is ready for it

 

I am sad many of my good friends

And loved ones have left the world

Far too early before they could

Enjoy freedom, privileges and joy

 

 

The care free life,

Great feeling of being in charge of my universe

Which is given on a plate,

The earned right, for us the golden oldies  

 

Oh, no, I am not demented or confused,

My mental faculties are fine

Getting old is the best thing that can happen,

Similarly to good wine  

 

Whose, business is it,

If I choose to play a computer game

Through the night

I do not need to answer

For delaying my bed time,

Watching a juicy porn film

 

  I am the undisputed monarch

And the owner of all I survey

Dance to yester tunes uncared

Of missing steps or my sway

 

I have the right to weep thinking of affairs

Which broke my heart

As well to smile over jolly things,

Surreptitiously done in the past

 

  I can walk in a swim suit,not bothered of the eyes

Gazing at my gaunt wiry body

Enjoy the bulging flesh of beauties around,

All my senses for that are trained and ready

  Take a dive into the waves in the open sea,

Ignoring pitying glances from the jet set

They too will get old one day,

I have a chuckle and enjoy the freedom, today I got

 

  A comedian once said, when a man gets old,

He will lose two things

One is the memory and the second,

‘Oh sugar’, I knew it, but I forgot  

 

It does not matter I can always remember

Things, close to my heart

Why should I bother, no one is waiting

And none is there to listen.

 

Though my heart was broken many a time

And I am grateful for the memory loss

I am sure confusion is a God gift

For the golden oldies to live the life with less fuss

 

The broken hearts and sadness endured

Has given me the strength to understand

The impermanence of compound things

And nothing in life remains unchanged  

 

I like to look at the bright side and enjoy my time,

Must remain optimistic and have a laugh

I am so blessed to have lived a long life

And should not be depressed or pathetic  

I have seen my hair turn grey and fall,

My youthful laughs etched grooves on face

So many of my friends, who never laughed

Died with smooth faces and cheeks  

 

As one gets older, it is easy to cope with change

As I have lived through them

Our attitude should be positive and forgiving

And I for one adore the person, who I am  

  I will not waste my time or cloud my mind,

As I know that I have the right to be wrong

Consider my changes of old age are trophies,

I’ve earned for a prolonged jolly good living  

 

Ariya’s Contemplations

 

His now weakened, painful hands were healing hands Just only a decade ago, they were described as exquisite Fingers, insured for a million, the middle & the right index Adored by many thousands of his patients of the fairer sex

Those comforting digits ‘the diagnostic tool’ now a pathetic site Wrinkled and reddened with shrunken bones and swollen joints Stiffened by over usage, virtually fixed, unsightly and hopeless Like his eyes and ears non-functioning and passed ‘the shelf life’

VH & Repair, Ovarian cystectomy and removal of fibroids Were his bread and butter, did abdominal hysterectomy in minutes Ectopic pregnancies for saving lives and LRTs to support families Husband to do away with condoms or to the wives, their hormone pills

He never knowingly did an abortion, throughout for any price The foetus though small, he considered had a right of its own life Whether was created by an act of love or an act of lust Adhered to the Hippocratic Oath, to him life was very precious

Alas, his memory is faint and the speech is slurred, Voice once booming now is a whimper, hardly heard The beautiful nurse who was glued to him always by his side No longer there, neither his pride, nor the procession of clients

The shoulders droop and the back is hunched His heart once full of love broken and saddened Mask like face bears no smile, full of crisscross lines No teeth to show the spark has gone, virtually lifeless The flowers of youth had flown away Weeds do proliferate nearly everyday There are no warm hands to welcome him The twilight zone agonizingly extends day by day

 

 

Ariya De Silva

 

Representatives from the recent batch reunion organizing committee , Drs Anoja Fernando, Damayanrhi Wijedoru, Ranjith Almeida, Lakshman Senanayake, and Ariya de Silva met the Dean of the Faculty of Medicine yesterday to hand over the scholarship funds and some medical books collected from the attendees.

Submitted by Ariya de Silva

It is with great sadness we announce passing away of a great teacher Dr A.M. Mendis(89) few days ago at his home in Perth, Australia. Following eulogy was submitted to us by his daughter Dr.Geetha for publication

I thank you all on behalf of our family, Anoja & Lal, Geetha, Shiroma, Asitha and Komi, and grandchildren Jennifer and Chamath for joining us to pay our last respects to my father Ariyaman. My thoughts and thanks are also with absent family and friends.
I have to say at the outset that it is impossible for me to do justice to a man who has led such an exemplary life, and been an inspiration to so many. But I will offer a few glimpses of his rich life.
Ariyaman was fondly known as Menda, Mende, Dr Mendis or simply Doc.
He leaves a legacy of devotion to wife, children, grandchildren, family and friends, dedication to his profession, love of teaching, love and respect of his colleagues and patients, and service to his community.
Thathi comes from a very close knit family. His parents Dr A B Mendis and Mrs Charlotte Mendis loved and admired him. To his siblings Thathi was their much loved and revered Loku Aiya. Their unfaltering devotion to Thathi and each other over the years has been wonderful to witness. My special thoughts are with his dear sisters Damitha, Aurasie, and Mahila, and his dear brother Paddy and Charmaine. They and their late spouses, Dr GCI De Silva, Ally Weerasinghe and Bandula Wickremasekera created a loving and respectful extended family for us to grow up in. My late maternal grandmother, Galle Archchi, was an ardent fan of her son in law. He looked after her and my mother’s family, Loku amma, and Artie mama, now deceased, and Sujatha Punchi amma who is in our thoughts today.
Thathi was ever grateful for his formative years at St Thomas’ College, Mt Lavinia. There he excelled at studies and sports. A proud Thomian, we heard him singing his school anthem just a couple of months ago!
A new and long chapter began with a Medical School Dance when the young Dr Ariyaman met nurse nona Cecelia Jayasundara. He was soon to head off to the UK for specialist training. When Thathi introduced Cecelia, she was warmly accepted by his sisters and brother and nicknamed “Sis”. This ploy helped to keep the evolving romance under wraps from parents until my father telegraphed his parents from England to inform them that he had passed his membership of the Royal College of Obstetrics & Gynaecology, and that his bride to be was enroute to get married. My grandfather wisely trusted his son’s judgement.
Thathi returned to Sri Lanka in 1957 with his new wife and baby Anoja to be greeted with much celebration in Colombo. Cis & Ariyaman went onto enjoy a very successful partnership which produced four more children. Despite being busy with his career Thathi made time for his family. Our annual holidays to explore remote locations in Sri Lanka and Wild Life Sanctuaries and National Parks provide us with wonderful memories of fun and adventure. He and ammi knew to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. He was ever ready to gather around the piano and get everyone singing and dancing. There were endless opportunities for this as our huge extended family got together frequently to celebrate birthdays, New Years, weddings and everything in between. Ammi often reminisced towards the end of her life that she had had a wonderful life with my father and that they aspired to an ongoing relationship beyond this life.
On his return from England as a Consultant, Ariyaman’s career took off and he soon established a reputation as a highly regarded Obstetrician & Gynaecologist. As a child I remember that everywhere we visited in Sri Lanka, however remote, people would come up to him and say Oh you are Dr Mendis – you delivered my child and immediately extend their hospitality. I formed the impression that my father had delivered all the babies in Sri Lanka!
In his foreword to Thathi’s memoirs, his mentor, the late Dr Anthonis, Chancellor of University of Colombo wrote: “ Ariyaman’s life has been one of many scintillating facets. Academically brilliant, both his school years and his medical career are sprinkled with scholarships, honours and medals. When I met him at the Colombo General Hospital in 1951, I was drawn to him because of his intellectual qualities and his stamina. He readily did all the work allotted to him plus more. Time was not a factor to him, he worked till late, he was reliable, trustworthy and efficient.” He goes onto say, “His life reveals precision of the intellectual combined with the compassion of the humanitarian”.
Thathi had a gift for teaching. To this day his former students, who have been highly successful in their own medical careers, recall thathi’s inspiring qualities. I quote from a recent poem dedicated to my father by Dr Ariya De Silva OBE.

“The ideal teacher, an oasis of knowledge, erudite
None so far I’ve met, committed and so upright,
Kindness & understanding of students, an unfaltering friend
The mentor with wisdom and attention undivided

Gave your heart and your mind to patients, and never were in a rush
Understood their feelings, their worries, fears and concerns,
Encouraged me to reach heights well beyond my dreams
I thank you Sir, for that, from the bottom of my heart “

At the age of 50 my father left Sri Lanka in what would have been a major upheaval, letting go of a well- established career and extended family, in order to give his children a better future. Our family emigrated to Perth. It seems word got around before he got here as we were met by a number of Sri Lankans who became part of a wonderful network of friends, some of whom are here today. Ariyaman soon established himself in WA initially as Senior Medical Officer to the Kimberleys and later in private practice in Perth. Within a short time he was highly regarded by colleagues here. When I was at Medical School I encountered senior consultants who said to me, Geetha you can learn all you need to know from Mende. For a man who never sought recognition it amazes me how he was so widely known and respected. People still comment on his energy, diligence and attention to detail – whether he was doing major surgery or toiling under the bonnet of his car or planting trees didn’t seem to matter.
His passion for travel which he shared with my mother and the enthusiasm for photography that went with it, is a whole other story as evidenced by a massive collection of photographs all methodically annotated.
He also found time and energy to contribute to the WA Buddhist community. As usual his help was practical. Ajahn Brahm recently reminded him of how he helped with spade work to turn the soil for laying the foundations to the first buildings at the Serpentine Monastery.
We have been extremely privileged to have Ariyaman as our father. It has been our privilege also to look after him in his final years when Ammi was no longer able to care for him. I have to say that I am really glad they had five children, a son in law and two grandchildren as it was indeed a team effort to look after ammi and thathi so they could live in their own home to the end of their days.
Ariyaman means “noble mind”. I reflected recently with Thathi, that he truly lived up to his name. He set an example of how to conduct one’s life with dignity. This he showed us throughout his life and throughout his final years of incapacity, right up to his last breath.
We wish him the highest blessing, May he attain Nibbana!

Thank you all.

We will close the ceremony with a traditional song of praise (Danno Budunge), one of Thathi’s favourites followed by the anthem of his beloved alma mater, St Thomas’s College.

Please join us at home in Winthrop for some refreshments.

Sent to us by Dr. Ariya de Silva

Hi all, We had what I call a “MICRO RU64″ at our house on Feb 15th. Errol and Rosemary drove over 100 miles to join. The others were 15- 30 minutes away. This was mainly to view photos we took at Golden RU 64 an of course the skits, reliving the October RU.  Thanks to Selva and Mahesan we got a DVD of all the skits. It was extra fun to watch with others. We had a few others mostly senior to us – Drs Nihal and Sarogini Gooneratne, Dr Eugene Anandappa and three other family friends. These people helped me with the Sinhala pronunciation, grammar for our skit and gave some constructive criticism. It was much fun and all enjoyed the lunch prepared by Yogamany. The non medical persons must have lost the little respect they had for me after they saw our skit!  This has given the impetus to have a Mini RU 64- North America” soon. whether it will materialize is any ones guess.

Seated L to R Rosemary Baptist, Chitramali Asokan, Dharma (Beard is to hide from the law and is winter adaptation.) Temps are in the range of0 deg F (about minus 16 deg C) and will go to Minus 7F tomorrow!

Dharma