As I
rapidly approach the half-a-century mark on my birthday calendar I have a
choice of three ways to sum up my life;
so I opt for the third “......and third by experience, which is the bitterest". Like those of my generation thirty
of fifty years I have known only war, bloodshed and communal hatred. Shortly
before that my school classmates and I were ripped apart and shoved into
compartments labeled the Sinhala, Tamil and English stream. Somewhere during
this time my mother kept complaining about bread queues, kerosene smelling
fabric and everything being rationed. I also recall my parents having to pull
strings, grease palms and creep through back doors to obtain the requirements
of my annual school book-lists. I had no toys (I still envy those kids today)
so I ended up loving books instead,
which was a good thing; but I still
would have loved to have had a few toys.
