How Tikiri ducked a match-making attempt-by GAD Sirimal
Source:Island
As far back as the early As far back as the early 1950’s, I was boarded at an exclusive and expensive boarding house at Karlsruhe Gardens, Borella, where all facilities were provided – attached bathroom, wardrobe, tables etc for two occupants. My roommate was Tikiri Ekneligoda, a good looking Kandyan of my age, belonging to the Kandyan aristocracy. One day he told me that his father wanted to meet his roommate.
On a Saturday morning weeks later, his father appeared, He was an imposing figure, sporting a Kaiser mustache and during our conversation he inquired from where I hailed and also my name. I said that I am from a village upcountry, called Karahandungala, near Nawalapitiya and my name was Sirimal. On hearing this his facial expression changed and I knew he had heard a name sounding like ‘Sirimala’ identified with a low caste.
I explained there was a mistake when my name was registered at birth. The Registrar had mistakenly written Sirimal instead of Sirimane, which error I came to know when I had to submit my birth certificate to sit the Senior School Certificate (SSC) examination. As there was no time to take corrective measures, I sat the examination under the name ‘Sirimal’ although all my schoolmates and relatives still call me ‘Sirimane.’ But, in my service in government, I was known as Sirimal.
Then I told him of my ancestry and traced it to Gardiarachchi who married the legendary poetess, Gajaman Nona. His face brightened and with a smile he said ‘You are from the low country Goigama caste’, and invited me to visit him at his Walawwa. During the brief conversation, he advised us to be careful of Colombo tricksters as upcountry people were considered naive and could be easily tricked to marry their daughters. The attraction was the family background and the jobs they held in government service or in the private sector.
He also said that when time comes parents would find suitable partners for us as they wished to see their children happily married, After he left, Tikiri told me that his father had already found a Kandyan beauty, now in the final year at Peradeniya University with his sister, for him. Since then our intimacy as friends grew closer and we confided in each other about our experiences, worries, joys and day to day events.
Tikiri was a voracious reader and regularly bought books from Caves Book Shop at Abdul Caffoor Building, in the Fort, a shop run mainly by European staff. He was interested especially on books on comparative religion. He had books on Buddhism (Dhammapada, Tripitaka, Jataka Stories), Islam (the Holy Quran and Hadiths) and the Bible, and books by various authors, including by Avro Manhattan (Popes and Their Churches, Twentieth Century and the Church, as far as I can remember. For light reading, he preferred detective stories and his favourite author was Earl Stanley Gardner.
I took the opportunity to read his books and I discussed and debated them with him. These frequent visits to Caves, attracted the attention of a younf woman, a junior manager – Seetha who reserved books for Tikiri knowing his likes and dislikes. She phoned him about new arrivals and this connection became a close friendship leading to intimate discussions of personal matters. She had spoken of her parents living in Hokandara. Her father was a rich building material supplier heavily addicted to liquor. She talked of how her mother toiled and of a school going brother.
As time passed, she invited him for a week-end lunch at her Hokandara home which he tried to evade by making various excuses. It came to a point that he could not evade any more and he accepted. He asked me to accompany him and I agreed reminding him of his father’s warning. I suspected that the invitation may be to introduce Tikiri to her parents as a possible future partner.
The next problem was transport. Our boarding manager owned a Morris Minor car which he hired out with his driver. He also allowed licensed drivers to drive themselves paying the car hire. As I had a driving license, we decided to hire this car. That Saturday, Tikiri bought a bottle of Double Distilled Arrack at Millers, wrapped it attractively to be presented to her father. The direction given by Seetha was to come to Hokandara and inquire from the Manager of Sandagiri Hotel who would direct us.
That Sunday morning, nattily dressed, we started off around 10 a.m. to be in time for lunch and return as soon as possible. We passed the busy crowded roads in Colombo and proceeded to the pleasant village area of Malabe and Talawatugoda which at that time were pastoral hamlets with bare-bodied betel chewing villagers sitting around and coconut and rubber plantations.
Reaching Hokandara, we spotted Sandagiri Hotel and inquired from the cashier for directions to James Mudalali’s house. One of the waiters who overheard us said ‘Oya Kiyanne Gal Jemage gedera’. (He is referring to Gal Jema’s house) He smilingly directed us saying, “Drive about half a mile, rounding a bend there is a gravel road on the paddy field, to the left. Passing the fields, the trellis worked house is Gal Jema’s.”
We followed the directions and turning to the gravel road waited for a kabaragoya with its young to cross the road. Two women on the road saw us and we heard one saying “this is the groom going to the mudalali’s house to see Seetha nona,” confirming our suspicions. Tikiri looked uneasy. I cautioned him to be careful and not commit himself. We drove to Gal Jema’s house and parked the car under the porch.
Seeing us, Jamis Mudalali, in a long white shirt with a giveaway ‘cherry’ nose, his frail-looking wife and a beaming Seetha welcomed us. Tikiri gifted the wrapped bottle to the mudalali who thanked him and said mokada karadara une thaagi gennda (why did you bother to bring gifts?). We settled down and were served king coconut water. There was the usual small talk on how hot the weather was.
In the course of this conversation James Mudalali said that this house and five acres of mixed plantation was intended for Seetha and the metal quarry and the related business will be for his son who was away at a scout camp at Blackpool. All this while, Seetha’s mother was listening closely, perhaps fearing that her husband may say something unnecessary.
Then Tikiri started his own story. As he was the eldest son, he would by tradition inherit the 12-roomed ancient walawwa, with five acres of paddy land, and some 10 acres of mixed plantation including cinnamon, cardamom etc. His responsibilities were to look after the walawwa and its furniture and also the family dhobi living near the stream and the goviya family tiling the family fields. He has a sister who is a final year undergrad at Peradeniya University, who will inherit the jewelry and a house at Kandy near Rajapihilla and other small holdings. He spoke of other famous Kandyan families connected to his family – Ehelepola, Pelpola, Irugalbandara, Arawwawala and some others all to make Gal Jema and his family think here was a good catch.
It was now nearing 2 pm and Seetha’s mother announced lunch was ready. Hearing this, Tikiri tapped his stomach and said “bada pipila’ (my stomach is puffed). Gal Jema smiled and said there was a simple remedy. Podi addak gahuwama, hari yai’ (A small drink will settle it) and went into his room and returned with a bottle or arrack three quarters full. He called out to his wife to bring three tumblers and the fish she had fried. She did as she was told, bringing the tumblers and the fish with an angry face and placed them on the table.
One tumbler was handed to Tikiri and one to me which I apologetically refused and decided to have the ginger beer which was to mix with the arrack. When the bottle was handed to Tikiri, he poured himself half a glass while the host took his normal drink with ginger beer. Tikiri swallowed the neat arrack in a single gulp to my surprise. Gal Jema took it very lightly and said ‘Hondai, bada pitchila yai’ (good it’ll settle the stomach). The second drink followed minutes later with Tikiri talking and laughing loudly. He reached for the fish and gluttonously munched it.
As it was nearing 3 p.m., Seetha and her mother insisted that we have lunch. We got up, and Tikiri staggered to the dining table and sat next to Seetha’s father. Seetha and her mother were trying to serve but Tikiri served himself with his fingers, picking fried fish and papadam. It was a disgusting sight of bad manners. Half way through a tasty, village-style lunch he staggered out and loudly retched near a coconut tree. Gal Jema not bother much said ‘Ohoma thamai ilandario sathuta vadi unahama’ – (That is the way with youngsters, when they are overjoyed).
Hurriedly we washed our hands, and went to help Tikiri to come back. He was far too gone to walk and we had to carry him with the help of two villagers and lay him on a long bench in the verandah. It was past 4 o’clock and I said that we must be going as I had to hand over the car. Gal Jema wanted us to stay the night which I refused. I could see Seetha in tears and so was her mother. With the help of the two men Tikiri was dumped into the back seat. .When I wanted to thank Seetha and her mother, they didn’t come out. Obviously they wanted to show their disgust and displeasure . However, Gal Jema, all smiles, folded his hands in salutation and said “Ayeth Enna’. – (come again).
I drove slowly and reached our boarding house nearing 6 o’clock, where the manager was waiting anxiously for his car. Never having seen Tikiri so drunk in that pitiful state, he helped to carry him and lay him in bed. The servants brought some lime and applied the juice on his head and allowed him to sleep. He did not have his dinner but slept through.
Next morning as he woke up, I jokingly asked ‘Kohomada, Gal Jemage bena’ – How is Gal Jema’s son-in- law – We laughed. After he washed and got ready to go for work, I asked him to stay back and promised to phone his office of his inability to attend work. He refused saying that every Monday he rings Seetha at 10 a.m to find out about new books. As he refused to keep off work and was not fit to walk to the Punchi Borella tramcar halt as we normally did, we hired two rickshaws. I got down at Lower Chatham Street and headed for the Public Works Department [PWD] where I worked.
He proceeded to his office at the Secretariat, Galle Face. At about 11 a.m I received a telephone call from Tikiri to report how Seetha had reacted to his performance. He said she had scolded him roundly calling him a ‘dirty low down loafer.’ You pretended to be well educated and from a decent family. I cannot face the villagers who all speak of your disgraceful behaviour. My mother also scolded me for having vanachara, aseelachara (uncouth, vulgar) friends. Do not speak to me or see me again!’ With that she had slammed the phone.
In the evening, after office, as arranged in the morning, we met at Lord Nelson’s Hotel for a cold beer where he related the story of how he planned to avoid any marriage proposal after hearing the two women who passed us on the paddy field stretch. That confirmed his suspicion that the lunch was to introduce him as Seetha’s future life partner.
Weeks passed, and later we heard that Seetha had given up her job at Caves and gone away, perhaps back to the village or another job. Tikiri was handicapped without knowing the new arrival of books to his taste and went to Gunasena’s and other bookshops to buy his books.
During the year end transfers, Tikiri was transferred to a distant Kachcheri as an Assistant Government Agent, (Ejantha Hamuduruwo). The appointment was hailed by his father as an honour to Ekneligoda Walawwa. On his last day in Colombo, he packed his bag, hugged me and thanked me for being a good friend whom he will never forget. He promised to meet whenever he comes down to Colombo. Then he handed me a book titled ‘Of Human Bondage” by W. Somerset Maugham.
I accompanied him to the Maradana Railway Station and when the signal was given for the train to start, he hugged me once again, got in and as the train moved he kept on waving his white handkerchief till out of sight. That book he gifted me was a fitting souvernir.
