Bailas, verses and boundar line heroes

Sunday Times Mar 9 2008

Oh! Bailas, verses and boundary line heroes

(Dedicated to David, Royal’s respected ground boy of yore; Noor, his onetime able assistant, who later took over from him; the legendary ‘Kadalay’,who was eternally flitting about the Royal Boundary Line like a benevolent spirit and the many others ,who have so ungrudgingly served the cause of Royal Cricket from the Boundary Line)

From the boundary we always cheered our heroes. (Pic by Saman Kariyawasam)That joy and glory has been most heart-warming for us, watching cricket, especially Royal cricket, from the boundary line.Apart from pretending to wield the willow and polish the cherry, once in a while, in the dim, distant past, our life, had been well spent, we should say, indulging in that pleasant pastime of watching Royal cricket for well over 50 years-watching not only the Royal-Thomian but the other games as well played by the Royal First eleven.Indeed, if colours were to be awarded for watching -consistency, then quite a few of us like Devaka Rodrigo, Rohan Hapugalle, Ranjit Jayasekera, Chrysantha Perera, Jeiya Ranasinghe, R.J.(one time known as Rakshana Janashakthi) de Silva, Dr. J.C. Fernando, Nimal Dias Jayasinghe, to name a few, along with yours truly, would surely be deserving contenders!Those days the Royal Primary School (RPS), now known as the Royal Junior, though very much Royal in spirit, was a separate entity ably led by that great Headmaster, A.F.de Saa Bandaranayake. RPS was never given the Friday half-holiday enjoyed by the students of the College proper, whenever matches were played at Reid Avenue.

Both entities were in double session during our time.Consequently, we, at RPS, had to adopt surreptitious means to sneak through the RPS Tuck Shop, situated then adjoining the old, College Hostel, during the afternoon 2.10 interval, highly motivated as we were to get a glimpse of our cricketing heroes. (They were our only heroes then!)- the Van Twest brothers Desmond and Brian, looking crisp-white and elegant; Nirmalalingam , the immaculately stylish opening batsmen, the diminutive Lalith Hewavitarane; ‘Frecko’ Kreltsheim, with his magical wicket-keeping gloves; Ubhaya and Ranjit de Silva, two fine allrounders ;Turnour Wickremasinghe, the left arm spin artist, perhaps so named at birth by his progenitor, sensing a future spinning prospect; the wily Wignarajah, another left arm spinner, quite elastic just before and at the point of delivery; the two Seneviratnes, mysteriously (for us) known as ‘Ata Gemba’ and ‘Gadaya’. ‘Ata Gemba’, in particular, will be well remembered for his peculiar stance at the crease, which both interested the observer and confused the bowler. He gave the impression of a rather tallish soldier, crouching in question mark fashion, marching on the same spot, in this instance the batting crease, waiting to hammer the enemy out of sight! It was a peculiar form of footwork which began even before the bowler commenced his run up. Little as we were, it was not difficult to recognize him not only because of his idiosyncratic stance but also because the enterprising cheering squads announced his arrival with well-orchestrated strains of “‘Ata Gemba’………………. croak, croak!’”Regular rejoicing Apart from the cricket at the centre, one couldn’t help being moved by the regular rejoicing on the boundary-line ,mostly with innovative ‘Bailas’ (each season churning out a new one ) sung by the many Royalists, senior and junior, who thronged the boundary , push bikes, flags and all, to hail their cricketing heroes, with the juniors proudly joining in chorus (quite unlike the dull mortuary lull one experiences at Reid Avenue these days- hardly a bike, a flag or any cheering –only vacant spaces policed by College prefects in tie!)Among those innovative, enterprising groups were the “Bucaneers”, a rollicking cluster of Royalists, living up to their self-proclaimed label, one of whose gang was one time a prominent and industrious member of the Sri Lankan Cabinet. He may or may not have had a premonition then of things to come, when he lustily joined the rest to sing about – “Lakmavage ekama putha,Kothalawala mahatha....”along with, Summa Amarasinghe (father of the 1983 winning Royal captain and current Royal coach), ‘Honker Nana, Jehan Raheem, Ponnasamy, Jayantha Jayaratne,’Kapoor’, Magha-lingam,’Pibba’ Perera, Abey-singho to name a few, intermittently asking the inviting question,“Oh, what will you give me….if I show…you the….?” or the more serious one ,“How are you Baldsing dear, how are you…….?”or the unmistakable assertion,“We are boys of Royal College, Kollupitiya South,………..followed by an important and rhyming bit of information,Have you heard of Bundi Belleth, fat, short and stout” rather accurately describing one of our dear, respected masters of yore; or the ‘Abeyratne Anthem’, so fondly dedicated to the female cadres of the ‘domestics’ fraternity,“Abeyratne kivvama than kauda nodanne,Visheshayen ilandari soyala balanne…..”None of these bailas was ever written down as such. It was simply the oral tradition –or better still an oral-aural-oral tradition. And it was very much on the job training: standing, listening, imbibing (ever so readily!), singing. We also knew that sooner or later we had to be very much a part of that tradition and contribute our share, which we did more surely no sooner than we hit the Third Form at College. A quick, string hopper, ‘pol sambol’ and beef curry lunch, all for Rs1/25, a la Saranapala, at the Tuck Shop, situated then next to the Old Lab and off we crossed to the happy plains of Reid Avenue. We used to occupy one of the wings of the Old Pavilion – that magnificent edifice of character, sadly no more, demolished by insensitivity and insensibility. We had our place reserved there every Friday and Saturday, whenever Royal played at Reid Avenue-Kalu and the Merry Band – (so the papers of the day reported it), with Anura Rajapakse and self on button accordions, the late Anwer Thassim (‘Thassa’) on bongos, Thosai Para (now known as Dr Waran), Gane Weeravagu, the two Fernandos, ‘Ura’ and ‘MRS’, ‘Chester’ Ratnatunge, ‘Gamit’ Ameresekere, P.B. Madurapperuma, (Madhu), the late ‘Rana Betta’ (B.N. Ranasinghe), Rudolph ‘Rowdy’ Wiiliams, ‘Ombi’ Sivalingam, ‘Mahasona’ de Silva, O.K. (Omar Khayyam) Raheem, to name a few, all joining in unison in between overs and muting their efforts before each delivery, so as not to disturb any batsman of either team. Omar and ‘Rowdy’ in particular were real assets, well -versed in the oral tradition handed down by their elder brothers Jehan and ‘Alfy’ respectively. It was from them that we really got the yen and feel for the seniors. Omar, in particular, was a real treat. At times he led the way and reproduced in his own inimitable style what he had picked up aurally from his elder brother! So for Omar it was,“Hona iting (for Onna Ithing)Pata…gatha( for Patang gaththa)Bahila selema( for baila sellama!)”or “kusi hama Sehera (for you know what!)Such perennial favourites as ‘Thanakola Peththo’, with the intriguing prologue,“…..Pasyale cadju kalaa,Beire wewe wathura beela,Wheel-barrow eken yanawa vel balanta….” or “..Kalamediriyo –o, mokoda kapothi…” were very much up in our list.We had our own share of innovations as well, such as, “….Aney ‘Navva’ mehata warenko, Mage langing waadi weyanko…” sung to the tune of a famous Hindi favourite of the day ‘Le Mama le Manamali’, ‘Navva’ being a tender reference to a dear class-mate of ours.At that time, watching our cricketing heroes, little did we realize that our own classmates would in turn take on that mantle. In fact , seven of the RC ‘54 Group went onto play in the Royal-Thomian between 1961 and 1963 and win their cricket colours, to wit, Darrel Lieversz and late S.S. Kumar, who captained in 1962 and 1963 respectively, S. Thyagarajah, Padde Withane,’Kota’ Jayaratne (who still holds the Royal-Thomian wicket-keeping record for most number of dismissals in an innings ), Neil Crozier and ‘Cuckoo’ Rajaratnam, the latter being the progeny of one our respected masters, who himself played for Royal in his time and continued the good work while on the staff by assisting Royal cricket on the field ,and ‘thrashing’ resounding ‘sixers’ off it, as any of his students would readily assert. ’Kota’ and Kumar were almost inseparable on and off the field. When at the wicket the two were an absolute delight to watch: polish and perfect understanding.But there were others in our time, also classmates, who should have played for Royal, if not for unfortunate circumstances. Of these the late Sarath Kodagoda and Geoffry Assauw were notable certainties. Sarath, that scion of a famous catering clan, who, but for a nasty injury sustained in the revived Royal-Zahira rugby encounter of 1959 (a fearful suicide expedition from Zahira’s perspective) would most certainly have adorned any Royal side. In fact, Sarath was a brilliant cricketer, a batting marvel moulded in the shadow of such cricketing greats as Mahesa Rodrigo (literally and figuratively in the shadow, so to speak, for they were neighbours then). Sarath was cited by a former Royal College master, with cricketing insight, Elmo de Bruin, “as an outstanding example of a complete cricketer.” Sarath lived, thought and loved his cricket.Real treat Watching from the boundary line it was a real treat to listen to Sarath regaling us with a ball by ball ‘Test’ commentary, very much in the manner of a Rex Alston and then giving us a resume of the day’s play with the crisp likeness of a Johnny Moyes. One had only to close ones eyes to be immediately transported to the ‘Test’ atmosphere at Lords or the ‘MCG’. Sarath captained every Royal team at every age group and was well on his way……until that unfortunate injury which put paid to what would surely have been a rewarding career for him and for us. Geoffry Assauw, a brilliant batsman in the classical mould also would have adorned the Royal team if indiscretions had not got the better of him, which placed him at cross purposes with the establishment! Reliable information has it that later on he had been selected to play in a trial for Victoria and thence, perhaps, to achieve greater glory, but for his own carelessness. Geoff never turned up for that trial for Victoria for reasons best known to him!Watching Royal cricket may or may not have made us as fanatical as that electrician, who, when asked what ‘DC’ stands for at an interview for promotion to the position of Foreman, promptly, confidently and loyally responded that ‘DC’ stands for Denis Compton, of course!Joy and pleasureAt least as far as he was concerned he had not got his circuits crossed!

Yet , it was from the Royal boundary line that we derived so much joy and pleasure-the type of pleasure only a series of scintillating centuries and a 99 in the ’56 season from the enchanting willow of wicket-keeper batsman Selvi Perimpanayagam could provide; or the sheer joy only the crafty fingers of an artiste like ‘Mynah’ Wijesinghe could offer. Who could forget that memorable effort, when the artiste grabbed four wickets in four balls, (in rapid succession, of course!) in the Royal-Ananda game of 1957 at Campbell Place, thereby earning for himself a warm niche in our hearts, (which has not lost its warmth to this day) and a cricketing memento from that great scribe S.P. Foenander- a gift of a set of books on cricket presented by Foenander himself at the College General Assembly amidst resounding cheers. Who knows the donor may have intended the young recipient to join his tribe in time to come! Who could forget the instance, also at Campbell Place, in 1959, against Nalanda, when Daya Sahabandu, sent in as the night-watchman ducked, on sweet advice proffered by skipper Sarath Samarasinghe, batting at the other end, that the next ball was going to be a bouncer, only to be hit on his neck and thereabouts by a pretty ordinary delivery, nearly getting himself declared neck b.w! Who could forget ‘Kota’ Jayaratne being carried away, horizontal, with his private parts in total disarray, after being hit by a snorter from Brian Perumal at Reid Avenue in the 1961 Josephian game. This was reminiscent of the Wesley game at Campbell Park in 1954, when A. Rabindran had to be carried off after getting his nose cracked trying to hook a bouncer off Adihetty. Who could forget the many refreshing innings played by Jagath Fernando (the one at Campbell Park in 1969, being particularly so,) culminating in that devastatingly delightful century in the 1971 Royal-Thomian, which broke Ronnie Reid’s series record for the highest score or the polished elegance of Sumithra Warnakulasuriya, who, after many a hundred for Royal, lived up to his promise in the Royal-Thomian of 1980 by scoring the highest in the series -197 runs so immaculately compiled.

Decisions based on personal acrimony rather than merit prevented a promising star from representing his country with distinction.From the boundary line one could recall at random other memorable performances by Royalists- performances that spelt character, courage and assertiveness. For instance, in the 1963 Royal-Thomian, Vijaya Malalasekera sent us literally reeling with joy on the Oval Green with a cracker jack innings of 112 not out, his hundred coming off a power packed drive, so powerful that it deflected off the hand of a writhing Roger D’ Silva to the boundary (As a former sub-continental commentator might have said: the ball went scoo-rr-sching mothe-rrr ea-rrr-th to the rr-a-a-a-ps!). It seems that Malale was seeing the red cherry like a football after lunch. What he did at lunch to improve his vision is anybody’s guess! He literally pulverized that ball and was rumoured to have been admonished by his ascetic father, a respected and avid proponent of ‘ahimsa’, for causing undue harm to both the ball and to ‘outstation’ sensibilities!Indelible mark More recently in the 1992 Royal-Thomian, Gamini Perera made an indelible mark with a remarkably brilliant, match saving hundred. Given the circumstances, it was sweeter and far more rewarding than winning any match. By that innings, not only did Gamini bring honour upon his school, his team and himself, he also prevented an unique bit of history from being made. For, had the Thomians under Suresh Gunasekera, won that year, (which they most surely would have, if not for that century, Harin Samarasekera’s breath-taking half-century and Nalliah Rajan’s dogged innings), it would have been the first time (perhaps the only time ever) in the series, when a father and son would have led either side to victory, Suresh’s father the late Premalal having led the Thomian’s to victory in 1964. The wonder of Gamini’s memorable innings was that the night before, when it was all panic in the Royal Camp, he had promised his coach that he would get a century!Whirlwind partnership What of Jothilingam’s hundred in the 1956 Royal-Thomian under high-fever conditions or Royal skipper Michael Wille’s identical score of 121 in 1957.What of Skipper Nirmalalingam’s scintillating sixty-nine runs in the 1954 Royal -Thomian, who, but for an unfortunate run out, would surely have got a brilliant hundred. What of the whirlwind partnership of 106 in 40 minutes by tail-enders Vidda (Vidanage) and Harsha (Samarajeewa), better known for their bowling prowess (the latter affectionately identified by a similar sounding nomme de plume then) in the Peterite game of 1960 at Reid Avenue, mostly against the attack of the firey Anton Perera and the wily Le Mercier; or Darrell Lieversz’s and R.C. de Silva’s glorious effort in routing the Peterites, comprising, inter alia, the famous Heyn brothers, Richard and David, at Reid Avenue in 1962.The two panthers, Darrell and ‘CD’, the one breathing fire and the other smoke, shared between them the twenty wickets,12 and 8 respectively, running through the Peterites by early Saturday, thereby enabling us to make it to the matinee show quite comfortably; or Ajit Devasurendra’s patient hundred against the Peterites also at Reid Avenue in 1980,in a valiant, yet futile , bid to save the game for Royal; or Ranjith De Silva’s mighty six in 1954 over covers at Campbell Park onto the ‘Mara’ tree, which was on a higher elevation on the main road, a truly ‘Mara’ six ,so to speak; or Sarath Samarasinghe, irrepressibly and dangerously slashing outside the off-stump to send the ball sizzling to the boundary; or his acrobatic wicket-keeping accompanied by that resounding ‘howzaaat!’ with or without the ball in hand; or young Chandana Jayakody’s back to the wall innings (thank Heaven that his back was to the wall!!!) with eleven hungry Thomians literally breathing down his neck and legs, to save Royal from certain defeat in the Royal-Thomian of 1984; or Thotuwilage’s two delightful innings (95 and 108) at the Royal-Thomian of 2001, where he missed creating a record of scoring twin hundreds – these were only a part of the salacious menu dished out over the years for us on the boundary line.Hovering patiently on the Royal Boundary Line all these years has been a very pleasant and rewarding experience, indeed!

The Man for all Seasons

Kadalay of Royal

Kadalay, the gram seller who sat on the block of concrete at the entrance to College with his rectangular shaped glass box filled with various flavors of gram, of Royal, was a man for all seasons known to every single Royalist of that time as a friend, colleague, supporter, and most of all, a fantastic cheer leader at all Royal sporting events. He was ever loved and cherished by Royalists from so many generations during his famous sojourn at College in the sixties through eighties. His dark skinned demeanour, clad in white shirt and sarong with the bright red pottu ornamenting his forehead, was always a very pleasing sight for all the students who walked past him on the way in to school. During school interval times he used to move into the west wing lobby area so that the boys could take a peck at his delicious rata kaju, pori kadalay and bola kadalay.

His biggest and best performances were always seen at the annual Royal-Thomian Battle of the Blues cricket Match and also the two legs of the Royal-Trinity Bradby Shield encounters played in Kandy and Colombo. He also never failed to attend almost every single sporting event where Royal participated, even if he had to travel to far off places in sunny Ceylon, then, and Sri Lanka later. How many times have we seen him boarding the Kandy train from Colombo Fort Railway Station to join the rest of the gang at the upcountry leg of the Bradby? How many times have we seen him lying silently on the grass at the Oval after a days play of the Roy-Tho, immersed in stupor and splendor, after a long days event of cheer and beer?

His charming swagger, smile and sentiments will always remain the hearts and minds of all Royalists, young and old, who knew him and cherished him as someone truly special, in their hearts.

Like other collections of people and history, The Kadalay of Royal blog makes a sincere endeavor to collect, collate and publish all available history of this wonderful man called 'Kadalay" and some of those wonderful gestures and statements that he has made from the past.

Kadalay will always live on as an integral part of every single Royalist of that time. His life story and anecdotes will certainly live in the memories of those who have 'learnt of books and learnt of men and learnt to play the game'.

Born, Thangiah Ponniah, to a simple Tamil family from Slave Island, Kadalay was always seen as a mascot at all College events, be it sports or otherwise. He passed away in 1990.

This blog attempts to capture and portray the many wonderful stories that took place around Kadalay during his era, no doubt the man for all seasons.

Kadalay of Royal by Eardley Lieversz
http://royal-1961.blogspot.com/2006/02/kadalay-of-royal-by-eardley-lieversz.html

Please send all information, pics, stories and events to kadalay@gmail.com for publication on this blog.

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RC '59 Group
Royal Thomian Cricket

Viji Recalls

Memories of Kadalay

My memories of Kadalay hark back to 1939, when I entered Royal as a student at Form I on promotion from the former Royal Preparatory School, and to the 40 s during my school career. Kadalay started his unique association with Royal as the acolyte of Kadaley Aachchi, who was the "official" gram ‑ vendor of the College at that time, and was called the Wadai Boy because his wares (probably an ancillary trade to Kadalay Aachchi's and under her aegis) were "parippu" wadais, which in those halcyon days, when the humble copper coin was indeed legal tender to be reckoned with, cost I cent each, 2 cents for one a little larger and flatter with a smattering of maldive fish and 2 previous day's stale wadais re‑fried to a brown crisp for I cent ‑ cheap, but food for the gods!!

I well remember the benevolent and rotund old Kadalay Aachchi seated under the Reed Tabebuia with her basket of assorted grams such as "bola" kadalay", "rata" cadju and konda kadalay of which 5 cents would buy a pocketful. She always sat on a small metal trunk, which we thought probably contained, all her worldly possessions, and next to her stood our Kadalay, then a mere stripling, with his tray of wadais supported on a make‑shift trestle. Credit was the order of the day and Kadalay Aachchi was accorded the exclusive privilege, personal to her alone, to go round the classes and beard the culprits in their dens to claim and extract bad debts.

Then in the 60 s Kadalay Aachchi died, plunging the College into a dense pall of gloom and so, by a most logical and equitable line of descent, Kadalay inherited her trade and was thereafter known by that name to the end of his days. Unfortunately, in the 80 s he fell foul of the Powers that Be for some misdemeanour and was banished from the College precincts and sold gram outside the boundary walls but his heart was not in that sort of trade and he languished before our eyes. However, he was not left out in the cold for long because an Old Boy (whose name I dare not reveal on pain of dire penalty) took him under his benevolent and expansive wing and employed Kadalay in a sinecure that kept him solvent and going till death claimed him.

Nobody knew, or as far as I am aware, knows to a certainly, what Kadalay's real name was, what his antecedents were or whence he came, but in process of time he evolved into a Royalist to surpass Royalists in loyalty to the Best School of All which is Royal ‑ despite the vociferous claims of Trinity!!

Even now I see Kadalay before my mind's eye, clad in his immaculate and characteristic white as he sold interim sustenance to the chaps or as he led the cheer squads from the front on any grounds where Royal fielded a team which no doubt stimulated effort and thus accounted for many a Royal victory. His opinions ‑ be they on cricket, rugby, athletics, boxing or what have you ‑ based on a rare insight and assessment of capabilities and potential of sportsmen, were voiced loud and clear and many were the Captains, Coaches and Masters in charge who went by what he said and found almost invariably that he had been right! Wherever Royal went for any sport or any game there went Kadalay forsaking his trade and at his own expense to watch and cheer the Royalists and the school he loved so much.

Hardly anyone knew when he died and the final rites were performed as it was during a long school vacation that the fateful event occurred thus depriving generation of Royalists of saying their last farewells and honouring one who gave not only his heart and soul but all of himself to Royal.

"This was a man ‑ when comes such another?

Viji Weerasinghe
Royal College
April 2006

Achchi, Kadalay & Quarter Soda

Stealing Kadalay

Dear Chaps,

Sinhala New Year holiday period has just started. We are closed till 18th. It's driving me crazy. Children have left the nest. Only the two of us are at home. Could have gone somewhere to spend the holidays, but all those places are filled to capacity. I hate when there are too many. Life has to go on.

Achchi died by 1960/61. First Kadaley was her assistant. But the man soon started on his own. He was always there to help her.

Quarter Soda (QS), used to steal small packets of bola kadalay from her. At the 10.20 interval they both come to the WW lobby to sell. Kadaley sold under the arches while Achchi was seated on the left corner, inside. Kadaley always had an eye on Achchi. I can remember one day as QS closed in on her, Kadaley shouted Kallan! Kallan!! (hora! hora!!), meaning "thief, thief.

Achchi soon got up with a broken broom stick. QS was hiding behind a pillar shouting, "Achchiee Pochchi", making gyrations at her. Pol Tokka Samararatna, who was waliking to the staff room saw this and took QS by the ear. Just then the bell rang. QS returned to class after a good canning from Cow POX Abeysinghe (Head Master).

More when time permits

Hapu
April 13, 2006

Language Lessons

Sinhala & Tamil

Dear Fellows,

After wishing everybody Happy New Year I thought, how Quarter Soda wrote his name in Sinhala will bring back some old memories. After the fight I had withhim opposite the GYM he wanted to be very friendly with me. The following dayin the 2B class he came to me with that famous innocent smile andsaid, "Appuarachchi, you teach me Singalese, I teach you Tamil,OK?" "Ok, Shall I write Appuarachchi in Tamil".

I said go ahead and gave him my Geography book. He wrote "Appuarachchi" and asked for the initials which he added after the name.

Now it was my turn.I wrote Sabaratnampuka. I couldn’t hold back laughter, but with the greatest difficulty gave his exercise book back looking the other side. Unsupecting QS took the book to Sella Amarasekera to show-off. Sella biting his nails showed it to Nangi (Sunil) Abeysinghe (Bamba Flats A Block), who burst out. I can still remember the look of hatred QS had. If looks could kill? Hapu would be no more.

He said "You bloody s**t, you wait!
More later
Hapu
April 14, 2006

APPRECIATION

Daily News Editorial
Thursday, April 4, 1991
Kadalay of Royal

Two appreciations of ‘Kadalay’ as the gram seller who plied his trade out side Royal College for several decades was popularly known to literally tens of thousands of schoolboys published recently in the Daily News would surely have evoked feelings of warmth as well as a sense of nostalgia among a multitude of Royalists who without exception held him in great affection.

He was truly an unforgettable character who was fiercely loyal to the school with which he had developed special bonds through a very long association. Those who knew Kadalay as well as those who did not know him, would have got a feel of the man if they had read those appreciations.

As was rightly stressed by the two Royalists who write of Kadalay, this humble man who sought little of the good things of life for himself, was synonymous with the sports that Royal College played (and still plays) – particularly cricket and rugby football. He followed not only the matches but also the practices, acquiring an unbelievable expertise both of the sports and the players. Royal’s victories were his triumphs; and defeats mattered not – as long as the boys, who were his friends, played the game as it should be played.

We write all this to say that there are many humble people all around us who are remarkable in their own way who, though often unrecognized do their work and serve a multitude of institutions with a loyalty and dedication that men and women in the higher stations of live would do well to emulate.

It was some months ago that we commented about two persons who were extra ordinary in every sense of the word in character, dedication, skill and above all humanity, that this country and their families had to tragically lost. One was Dr Lakdasa Dissanayake, the cancer surgeon whose may fine attributes became public knowledge only after he drowned at Bentota trying to rescue a friend’s son who was being carried away by a current.

The other was a man called Arul of the Wild Life Department who was killed by the terrorists. The Daily News was privileged to carry a knowledgeable account of the many facets of this man who was a lover of nature and the wild.

There are others of their ilk around us and it would do all of us good to look around and recognize them, even for ourselves. Having done that, it is important that we should try to emulate those good examples. Life gives each and everyone of us umpteen opportunities of doing good. It is not only with money that people can be generous; they can also be generous with time.

We, who live in a country blessed by the doctrine of the Buddha, too often forget some of the virtues that are not difficult to practise. Kind speech or ‘priy vachana’ is one of these. Too often do we hear that envy is a trait that is deeply ingrained in many of our people. This is most unfortunate, for Buddhism has extolled the virtue muditha or taking pleasure in the happiness or achievements of others.

We wrote about Kadalay of Royal because he, by his enthusiasm particularly for the sportsmen of Royal College, his team spirit and his loyalty to the school, had been able to win for himself a place in the hearts and mind of countless Royalists who learned and departed from that school.

He would surely have sensed this, and would have been cause for some satisfaction. It would be cause for more satisfaction if all of you could recognize and emulate the virtues of the humble people around us, instead of only seeing faults and focusing on the negative.


“Kadalay” – Cross Country
by Richard Dwight

Much has been written and said about Kadalay and it is therefore not the intension here to state what has already been made known to may. But there lingers in my mind a witty rejoinder that he made during a rugger match which merit recalling. He had the ability to liven up any schoolboy party, with his inexhaustible fund of jokes and homespun anecdotes. He repartees and rejoinders were apt and seldom failed to miss the mark. It was the low country up country rugger match when one of the spectators yelled, ‘Kalalay, what are you, up country or low country?’ Kadalay stood in his tracks looked at the spectator straight in the face and said ‘father up country, mother low country, son cross country’ and the spectators roared with laugher, that was plan and simple ‘Kadalay’. He parted with his gram liberally and had the gift of making others laugh. He moved with the lowest and highest with ease, devoid of inhibitions. He had easy access to those boys who were doing well in life but he never abused the privilege. He never aspired for big things, to him small was beautiful and lived each day as it came.

Yes indeed, there would be no more gram selling for him, no more shouting of R-O-Y-A-L for his vibrant voice has been stilled, he has verily crossed over to the land of eternal bliss.


‘Kadalay’ is no more

Selling gram was his occupation for well nigh 5 decades but his pre-occupation was the well being of Royal College. Yes our much loved ‘Kadalay’ moved over to the realms beyond last week.

Kadalay was an institution with an institution. Though his was a humble profession his acumen and knowledge of men and matters at Royal was profound. He could ably predict as to who would be included in the annual Prefects List. He would read a wicket and estimate the flow of runs or the haul of wickets on a given day. He would before hand indicate the moves to be made by various captains. He would well know the workings of the minds of wily Mahinda Wijesignhe or the aggressive Vijaya Malalasekera. The strategist of Kadalay would proffer advice to captains and players and we are all too aware how seriously such advice was acknowledged and accepted by budding national stars. Cricketing & Rugger treats at Royal in the good old days made it a point to include Kadalay in carrying out post mortems after the encounters.

Kadalay would give his life for the cause of Royal. Clad in spotless white he would accompany teams on their outstation itineraries though at his own cost. In Colombo he was the sentinel who kept at bay those encroachers hostile to the cause of Royal.

Kadalay even to his last days was very child like. He wanted Royal to win and would even weep at defeat. Royal wins and the school boys and old boys win free Kadalay from this staunch Royal supporter. Kadalay not only gave Kadalay to Royalists but even dedicated his full three score and ten to the cause of Royal.

By virtue of his sincerely and long connection with Royal , Kadalay knew the high and mighty of the land from Lalith A & Anura B to Thilak de Z but never thought of soliciting comfortable employment and thereby forsake his one and only love. He preferred the Royal or the Hook Royal Hook in the scorching sun or the pelting rain to a comfortable pavilion seat. He was the motivator of the cheer squads and whenever Kadalay was at a tend the body would be at their vociferous bet.

Kadalay was also a gentleman par excellence. Not for him the ribald rhymes for the student shad to be nurtured well. He frowned upon those school boys who attempted to tarnish the image of the school. For those playing truant Kadalay always had a word of advice dwelling upon the need to act Royal and live Royal

Nether cheap popularity nor lucre could lure him into things bad. Kadalay was humble but Kadalay was upright -literally and metaphorically. Though not an old boy very much a Royalist. Such men are rare. When comes another? Should we not think of a monument tin Kadaly’s memory at Race Course Avenue?

May his soul achieve the Bliss of Moksha
Nimal Dias Jayasinha

The big fight

Half Soda & Kadaley

1960 - 2nd Form. Every Tuesday the last period was DRILL. We had to fall-in opposite the Gym. Kota Silva was the master in charge. Half Soda was boasting to KS as to how he challenged boys down the lane he lives. How they shivered seeing HS coming home after school.

Knowing HS and his capabilities, Kota Silva looked at me and back to HS, "Can you fight him?", "Simple", HS said, looking sideways at me. KS nodded, "OK, go ahead". I can still picture HS coming at me with clenched fist and boxing steps, hatred written all over his face, saliva drooping from a side of his mouth.

One Polladi put HS on all fours. I jumped on the poor bugger and was getting ready for the kill, KS was shouting, "Stop! Stop!! that is enough". We parted with HS muttering under his breadth "You wait Ok, You wait.

Days passed by and I had forgotten about the fight. That Friday we had a cricket match being played on home grounds. College was over at 12 Noon as always.

At about 2.30pm, me, MHS, KAG(Gemba), SJWA and two 60 groupers were on our way to see the match. Kadaley was also going the same way, chatting with us about Belleth's movements for the day, Half Soda the great with a gang of six boys (outsiders) was coming towards us.

HS pointed at me and told something in Tamil we did not understand. Kadaley sensing trouble shot back in Tamil. All the outsiders were taken aback. What Kadaley said must have been "if you have something against Hapuarachchi, settle it between you two. Don't bring these outsiders, PODA!PODA!!.

All HS reinforcements retreated. HS didn't want to loose face.He came at me to receive the same sad ending. At last Kadaley took the fallen hero to his waiting father at college staff room.

Whenever I passed Kadaley after that He used to say, "Hari Chandiya Nedha?"

Kadaley protected us from many hot spots.

What a great man he was?

Hapu
April 4 2006

Under XV Rugby

The Under XV Rugby game against STC - 1974

Machan,

When you talk of Kadalay so many fond memories crop up. I thought I will send you just a small incident but signifies the essense of Kadlay.

The Year was 1974.

After three months of training, we, the under XV Royal Rugby players were to play STC Mount Lavinia on their grounds.

Those days the under 15 had only two games against STC and Issipathana. The Game was at 3.30 PM and played in the blazing sun as the more important under 17 and 1st XV had to practice and needed the grounds by 4.30 pm.

Royal was Captained by the Late Raba Gunesekera gathered under the front Porch, at College, at 1.30 pm all eager and anxious, as, for 95% of the players it was their first
match for Royal.

To our dismay we found that there was no one available to take us to the game or even accompany us.

We were just the measley under XV team. So what the heck?

Sharp 2.10, Kadalay walks in, in his immaculate white sarong and shirt, with rattle in hand and says, "lets go boys and teach those Thomians a lesson".

We could have hugged him as he was the ONLY person who accompanied us in the bus to Mount, and, thereafter, amidst about 200 hot-blooded Thomian's, paced the grounds up and down cheering us and advicing us and giving us that extra little bit that means so much in such a significant event in our lives.

"Kadalay whereever you are, I salute you dear friend. You were an inspiration to us."

Iqbal Hassen, Colombo, Sri Lanka - Mar 14 2006
ihassen@slt.lk

Lessons from Kadalay

Kadalay . . . something I learnt from him.

My parents sentenced me to two years RI at the RCH run by Warden Cecil Edgar Belleth. Having said that, I must also say I was privileged to serve two wonderful years at the Hostel. Pocket money in those days was Rs. 1.00, doled out every Monday, by the inimitable “Bella”. Having a sweet tooth, most of my pocket money was invested in minute stocks of ‘Becks’ caramel toffees at the, then, princely sum of 5 cents each, from Kadalay. As time passed the greed for Becks grew so fast that by Wednesday there was no pocket money and no Becks in my pocket, either. I decided to have a chat with Kadalay towards getting credit facilities. The interview took 5 seconds and I had to explain that I was a hosteller who received pocket money only on Mondays. I must have sounded convincing because he readily agreed to my request for Becks on tick.

I vividly remember happily walking away with the toffees only to hear Kadalay shout in his gravely voice “D o r a y . . . . Monday aah!” All this whilst looking straight into my eyes and holding up the index finger of his right hand for more effect. Monday came and the previous weeks toffees were duly paid for. All he said was “OK Doray” as if he was fully aware of exactly how much I owed him. This then became a ritual with my gradually getting more credit over a period, because he knew I respected his trust.

Needless to say Kadalay must have done this for so many other young Royalists without even knowing how much credit he gave any one of them, at any given time. I, for one learnt what ‘trust’ and ‘honor’ was and am proud to say it was taught to me by none other than 'our Kadalay'. I like to think that the line that goes “learnt of books and learnt of men” in the college song also refers to what we learnt from great men like Kadalay. Wherever you are Kadalay may you always be blessed.

Nihal Canagasabey, Colombo, Sri Lanka
Nihal@slt.lk