Alex Lazarus, and the Missing School Bell

The year would have been 1965. At Trinity, the end of each class period was signaled by the sound of a large bell which hung on a pine tree above the quadrangle. The bell ringer, I’ll call him Arnolis, was a rotund man who wore an over sized short-sleeved sized shirt and a sarong worn high above his waist, held up by a thick black belt. At the end of each period, Arnolis would approach, carefully put on filthy ear plugs, and beat the bell with a metal rod. The noise rang out throughout the upper school, and the boys would stream out of class rooms. All was well.

Then, one morning, the bell was missing. Gone without a trace. Chaos reigned. This was a time when few teachers, let alone students, had wristwatches. So class periods would end on the whim of the teacher, and a new set of students would crowd the entrance, jostling with the ones exiting. At a school with strict discipline, the ensuing confusion and the swirling rumors about the culprits, and where the bell had gone, provided much excitement and a welcome relief.

This went on for days. No one knew where the bell was. Then, we heard a rumor that the Principal Mr. Oorloff was getting postcards, apparently sent by the bell. The bell sent its kind regards. It was quite happy at not getting banged about, and to be residing at a cooler place.

After some time, the culprits, three students led by Alex Lazarus, were caught, the bell fished out of the chapel pond, and restored to its rightful place. Life at Trinity returned to normal.

Fast forward to April 2017. Victor Ratnayake and his wife were visiting me at Hantana, and I arranged a tour of the college chapel for them. The chaplain himself showed us around, describing the splendid Kandyan architecture, the carved stone columns, and the unique murals painted by David Paynter, including a rarely seen one in an inner room.

Then, we drifted  towards the pond, and I began to relate the story of the bell. We were having a good laugh, when, from the corner of my eye, I saw a smiling man walking towards us. He had heard that “an old boy from the 60s was visiting” and came to see who it was.

It was Alex, who was residing at Trinity.  I was dumbfounded; I hadn't seen him in  years, and he appeared just as I was relating the story of the missing bell. What were the odds of the main culprit turning-up, unexpectedly, when one of his spectacular exploits was being discussed after five decades!

We chatted. Alex told me that, under the stern gaze of the the formidable vice-principal, Mr. Sahayam, he and his partners in crime were forced to fish the heavy bell out of the pond and carry it back to the pine tree. A severe caning followed.

Those days, Alex' father owned Lazarus Studio, opposite Cargills. He had a good selection of comics for sale. We would drop in occasionally, hoping to filch a comic or two while “browsing” the selection. But we had no chance with hawk-eyed Mr. Lazarus. When I related this to Alex, half apologetically, he replied “Not to worry, machang, my father was so stingy that even I used to steal from him”!

Alex' stellar career on the rugby field is well known. He was a loyal, devoted son of Trinity. But what I recall is the fun he brought to our lives.

Alex passed away recently. RIP.

Alex at TCK chapel grounds

When Chinese University students "rioted"

The year was 1996, and Charles Kao had stepped down as CU’s Vice-Chancellor. Arthur Li, the Dean of the Medical Faculty, already gaining a reputation as “King Arthur” for his administrative style, had been nominated by the university council to succeed Prof. Kao.

Li’s “installation” was scheduled at the Run Run Shaw Hall. A distinguished gathering, headed by Governor Chris Patten, in his role as the Chancellor of CU,  had been invited. But, students were angry because they had not been consulted when the new VC was chosen. So, dozens of them blocked the road from the main entrance to Run Run Shaw, chanted slogans, and would not let any vehicles come up. Campus police were unprepared for the 

protest and were completely outnumbered.

Jane Jackson, David Johns, and I had walked up to Run Run Shaw and were inside the hall, having lined up at the head of the procession (junior faculty were in front) right behind Governor Patten, who had somehow got in. As the noise outside grew, and the blockade continued, Patten became exasperated, and went out to speak to the protesting students, perhaps to plead with them. He returned, and in frustration, sat on a nearby table, swinging his legs. The last Governor of HK, In full regalia!

In the end, the ceremony began, perhaps an hour late. Patten’s opening words were “I declare this convocation open - finally!” Prof. Li stood on the stage, fed faced, while his praises were sung by official speakers. He had lost face big time, before his colleagues, his “aristocratic” family, friends, and subordinates. I don’t think he ever forgave the students.

CU had probably never seen students protesting in this fashion, and most faculty members were aghast. But, I was delighted, at last seeing a spirit of defiance among students considered docile.

To his credit, Prof. Arthur Li was a decisive VC. The only time I contacted him,  for a matter regarding the ELT Unit,he acted quickly, after chiding me for misspelling his name as Lee!

The Talaimannar Pier

A few months ago, I visited Madhu church after an absence of 50 years. The church has been restored by the army, but, in contrast, the area from Anuradhapura to Mannar is in a deplorable state.

The verdant forest is gone. Instead, what is mostly visible on either side of the road are small houses, some mere shacks, sitting in the middle of shrub jungle. Not even a chili plant can be seen near most houses. Some have been abandoned. Poverty and despair haunt the landscape. The usual practice in our country is to fell the trees, sell the wood, put up a shack to claim ownership, and aim for the next piece of forest. Pity the poor animals.

The only commercial activity appears to be cattle herding. However, the splendid railway track and the modern railway stations built with Indian help, do offer much hope.

A thriving ferry service ran between Dhanushkodi on the Indian side and Talaimannar till 1994. (YouTube carries a fascinating video of a Volkswagen van being laboriously loaded on to the ferry.) Today, the dilapidated old pier is a heartbreaking sight. 

But, with some planning, much can be done to revive Mannar's impoverished  economy by restarting the ferry service. South India's population is more than 200 million, and there lies a potential market for Sri Lankan agricultural produce, including eggs and meat, and perhaps garments, too.  Large scale vegetable and poultry farms could generate more employment in the Mannar district. The distance to India is only 27 kilometers, and the much longer, time consuming route through Colombo will be unnecessary. Indian tourists are among the top three arrivals in Sri Lanka, and even travelers from other countries coming through India may prefer a leisurely ferry.

The railway track runs right up to the old pier. Perhaps the local authority of the area could build a new pier, purchase a few modern ferries, and start a service. Billions of dollars have been wasted on an empty airport and a harbor at Hambantota, which we now know were debt traps. The Talaimannar ferry service service could be revived at a fraction of the cost.

Sri Lanka's Blundering Cardinal

Sri Lanka’s first Cardinal, Thomas Cooray, passed away in 1988, and for decades, he was not replaced. In 2007, President Rajapakse and his wife Shiranthi, a Catholic, visited the then Pope, who asked Rajapakse what he could do for Sri Lanka. Rajapakse replied. “Give us a Cardinal”. (I heard this from a trustworthy source.)

The appointment of a top cleric, such as a Cardinal, to a non-Catholic country like Sri Lanka, has to be weighed carefully. When a suitable name comes up, the Vatican would consult the head of state to ensure that the person is acceptable to the government before the appointment is made. For instance, I don’t think a Tamil would ever be appointed a Cardinal in Sri Lanka. I assume that, when Rajapakse was asked, he gave his approval to the nomination. Malcolm Ranjith knows this, is ever grateful to Rajapakse, and, since he became Cardinal in 2010, has shown his loyalty to Rajapakse in a number of ways.

Thousands of civilians died at the end of the Eelam war. (The UN says  40,000 died.) No disputing this fact. But Rajapakse, fearing reprisals, has denied this. The issue keeps coming up, especially during the annual UN human rights meetings in Geneva. Once, following the Rajapakse line, Malcolm Ranjith declared that (I paraphrase) “No civilians were killed during the final stages of the war”. How would he know? He wasn’t at the front. Among the civilians killed were Tamil Catholics, perhaps in their hundreds if not thousands.

During the “constitutional coup” last year, when Rajapakse briefly became the illegitimate Prime Minister, Malcolm Ranjith was seen at Rajapakse’s official residence. What on earth did he think he was doing?

The Cardinal, quite foolishly, usually jumps on the bandwagon on popular but controversial issues, especially when these issues align with the Rajapakse/nationalist leanings.

1. Quick support for the death penalty for drug dealers proposed by President Sirisena. Two weeks after he spoke, the Pope delivered him a slap in the face by publicly declaring that the Catholic Church was opposed to the death penalty. Not a whimper from the Cardinal about the death penalty since then.

2. “Human rights is a Western concept”, another declaration, this time during a church sermon. What was he thinking? He probably wanted to align himself with the Sinhala nationalist idea that no human rights were violated in Sri Lanka. He quickly backtracked, but, as usual, the damage control didn’t succeed.

3. Declaring that Sri Lanka is a Sinhala Buddhist country. We do have a majority of Sinhala Buddhists here, but we are the “Democratic, Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka”. Again, Malcolm Ranjith was in tune with the racists/nationalists.

4. Rushing up to Kandy to hold Rev. Rathana’s hand while the latter was “fasting unto death”. The monk is a known racist, and the fast was a political stunt. And Malcolm Ranjith was in excellent company: the race mongering, Muslim-hating monk Galaboda Gnanasara, who also visited Rathana.

Gullible Sri Lankans have nominated the Cardinal for the Nobel Peace Prize. True, he preached restraint after the Easter bombings, but, did he have a choice? The Bible says “If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek also.” Malcolm Ranjith could not have asked Catholics to go out and slaughter Muslims. In any case, knowing his tendency to shoot his mouth off, I have no doubt that the Vatican called Malcolm Ranjith after the bomb blasts and told him exactly what to say and how to react.

In Sri Lanka, we have militant monks coming out of temples and causing havoc in the country. What we don’t need is a publicity seeking Cardinal behaving impulsively. Malcolm Ranjith should hold his tongue and watch where he goes before the Catholic Church in Sri Lanka becomes the object of ridicule and scorn.