ALUGOSUWA

ALUGOSUWA (Scoundrel)

By Dr. Tilak S. Fernando

After nearly twenty years, quite unexpectedly, I bumped into Mr Dassanayake in Colombo.  He was our class master and who also taught us Latin in my old College. It was indeed a pleasant surprise and a joy to meet with one of my 'adorable gurus' again. Those were the days when we, as students, were so mischievous in the classroom and literally sapped the will out of him when he enthusiastically tried to get through to us with some Latin grammar.

Those of us who could not grasp Latin properly were struggling to remember 'Galba, Galbai, Galbam' etc., and became victims of Mr. Dassanayake quite often. How can I ever forget his famous catch phrase, "you really are a Galbas,” when anger got the better of him as we hopelessly failed to memorise Latin.  Looking back at all those years, only now I begin to treasure his famous Latin phrase, ‘FacileDictu - Difficile Factu' (easy to say - difficult to do).

There was a great sense of excitement written across Mr. Dassanayake's beaming smile when I recognised him, in Colombo, and introduced myself as one of his old pupils. We soon started to natter like two old friends, and not like teacher and pupil anymore! Having known his favourite past time, I invited him to the Orient Club for some 'liquid nourishment,' which he willingly accepted. Although he had become senior in his age, he did not seem to have changed a lot physically. On my part, I too had matured, having lived abroad for many years, and had cultivated a certain degree of confidence.

After a full doze of the pale coloured 'liquid nourishment' known as Scotch whiskey at the Club, Mr. Dassanayake insisted that he must take me home to Thalawatugoda in his car, as it was too late in the night. I was not very keen on the idea, as he had already consumed a fair amount of liquor, but had to knuckle under, very reluctantly, purely not to hurt his feelings.

Once he was behind the steering wheel, I began to relax realising his reflex arc was not affected by liquor at all! We were in the middle of a long and interesting conversation, when he had to suddenly jamm the brakes, and the car came to an emergency stop along the Parliament Road.

Hardly we could see any police officers in the dark in their Khaki uniforms, in the absence of any reflective strips or waist coats on them, except a weak red torch light beam they flashed as an indication to stop the vehicle. As Mr. Dassanayake got his driving licence ready for inspection, I heard a voice from the driver's side:

"Mr. Dassanayake aren’t you,  Sir?"

I felt at once, that it was a very familiar voice to my ears, although I could not see the face in the dark! Indeed it was one of my old school chums, Saman, whom we had nicknamed as  'Alugosuwa'.  Mr. Dassanayake could not quite recognise Saman at first, and I could not blame him or expect him to remember every face when thousands of boys had gone through his Latin classes for several years. Yet I felt he was not happy that he could not recognise 'Alugosuwa' at first. How many times Saman had been punished by Mr. Dassanayake in school! Not that he ever used a cane at all, but in his half-drunken state, he always used his clenched fist on Saman's upper arm or back of his shoulder. Every time his clenched fist went into a piston action on Saman's body, the boys from the 'gallery', echoed in a rhythmic way, 'Ara...! Ara!!...Ara....!!!'  Ultimately poor Mr. Dassanayake was re-christened among us as 'Ara Dasa'.

Mr. Dassanayake never took a disliking to Saman despite his incorrigible activities as a student.  Probably, he may have put it down to growing up or adolescence! Other teachers did not consider Saman as an intelligent or brilliant material; yet, Mr. Dassanayake always thought Alugosuwa was clever, despite his energetic and negative attitude to discipline. Miss. Kanagasundaram could not handle him, at all with all her over-powering skills. With 'Lucky teacher,' it would have been a disaster! So, along with one or two 'problematic elements' in the school, Alugosuwa was transferred to Mr. Dassanayake’s class to discipline him.

Within a very short time of Alugosuwa's arrival in our class, Mr. Dassanayake's treasured Parker 51 pen vanished! Although there were several 'hard nuts' with 'light fingers' in our class, there was always an unwritten law that dictated, ‘no one should steal within their class room’.

Mr. Dassanayake managed to resolve many a petty theft in the school with admirable psychology. He took Saman to a side one day, and whispered something tactfully, of course without mentioning about his lost pen. Within the hour, the pen re-appeared on Mr. Dassanayake's drawer! How many times Mr. Dassanayake had caught him, when Alugosuwa emerged out from a hideout smoke!

In this particular evening Mr. Dassanayake's thoughts must have faded, either with the intoxication of whiskey or my being in his company. He knew something of Alugosuwa's background, while he was in school, a drunken-father and an over-strained and ever loving mother, whom Alugosuwa worshipped.

Although our school was a private fee levying college, Saman was poorly dressed most of the time. Apparently there wasn't any excess of money coming to the family from his father, once he settled his liquor bills. Yet he was always clean and had a cheerful resilience.

I could remember vividly Saman putting his name down to go on a school trip with Mr. Dassanayake once. It was our first visit to Colombo Harbour, the Zoological gardens, and the most exciting event, our very first trip to the Savoy Theatre in Wellawatta, to see a film called ‘The Thief of Damascus'. Alugosuwa was very keen to go with us, and he brought the deposit money at first. Then his mother came a few days later, and spoke to Mr. Dassanayake for a long time. Mr. Dassanayake was a kind man with a heart of gold, and he arranged Alugosuwa to go on the trip. As an added bonus, he gave some pocket money too to Alugosuwa to spend during his Colombo excursion.

Mr. Dassanayake, I am sure, was convinced that Saman's mother had scraped it all together for him when she paid the deposit money for the trip!

In Colombo we were busy buying little souvenirs to take home for members of our families and friends. Saman had spotted exactly what he wanted for his mother, a beautiful pendant, but it cost a great deal more than the pocket money he had received from Mr. Dassanayake.

The shopkeepers in Colombo were not a contended lot either, as they were mainly trying to grasp a lot out of the tourists. Their main intention appeared to make every extra Rupee, Euro, Deutsche Mark, Dollar or Sterling Pound, at any cost. Of course, that did not make what Alugosuwa did was right! There could not have been any justification for his stealing an expensive pendant for his mother!

Mr. Dassanayake handled the situation cleverly, without involving the police or making it an embarrassing issue. It does not matter how, but he was able to straighten the matter with the shopkeeper, and Alugosuwa took the pendant home to a proud and highly delighted mother.

On his final day in college, when the GCE O/L examination results were read out, Mr Dassanayake walked into the classroom, which reigned an absolute silence, something which he frequently demanded, but only rarely achieved from our lot. That morning every single boy sat straight and still in his place. As the results were being read out, Alugosuwa surprised everyone, with several distinctions and credit passes.

At the end of giving out the exam results, Saman came forward and stood near Mr. Dassanayake's desk with a neatly wrapped parcel held behind him. He gave a very flattering and an emotional speech echoing a lot of gratitude to Mr. Dassanayake, before handing over the gift in a strangely formal manner. The boys clapped.

Mr. Dassanayake was moved and it was a very sad moment when everyone's eyes became wet with tears. However mischievous Alugosuwa had been, sure, we all were going to miss him later. That was the last I saw of him, as I too left for London almost immediately.

Once I settled down in a different kind of school in the UK, I wrote to Mr. Dassanayake from London. Wasn't I choking with laughter in my bed-sitter, when he wrote back to me and made reference to Alugosuwa! Actually, I was not; as I had known him for quite a long time and the kind of pranks he could get up to.

What actually had happened, according to Mr. Dassanayake's letter, was that a group of parents had apparently complained bitterly to the Principal of the college about Saman extorting their children's pocket money or bus fares, to contribute towards a gift for

Mr Dassanayake at the end of the school term!

In a very nostalgic sense Mr. Dassanayake mentioned that there was hardly anything either the Principal or he could have done about it, at that late stage, since Alugosuwa had already left school. The English-Latin dictionary on Mr. Dassanayake’s desk still reminded him of the 'Alugosuwa' every time he sat at his table, he had mentioned in his letter.

That was some twenty years ago, and now  on the Parliament road, bending into two and standing at the security check point, leaning against Mr Dassanayake’s car,  speaking to him through the driver's shutter, was a well built senior traffic police officer Saman Salgado.

The Sri Lanka Police had become very strict with drink- and drive motorists. They used several methods from requesting the drivers ‘to blow to their nose’ to detect any liquor smells emanating with the breath, and also had just introduced the breathalyser tests.

In such a scenario Saman was in his elements, out on the road late at night, with his new toy, the breathalyser and stopping every vehicle that passed his way after 10.30 p.m. It did not matter to him whether it was a lady driver, a gentleman in a posh BMW, Mercedes Benz or even an MP's 4-wheel drive, Montero or a Defender, but he made it sure that nothing  escaped his vigilant operation.

"Nice to see you after a long time Sir! ……. Mr. Dassanayake aren’t you?"

Sniffing the breath of whiskey coming out of

Mr Dassanayake, Inspector Salgado immediately jested.

 "I must say, Sir, you are looking marvellously well and haven't changed a bit. ….by the same token, Sir, it's a damn good thing that it's not whiskey, that I can smell in your breath! Drive carefully Sir, nice to see you again!"

I sat there still and stone cold.  I was certain that

Mr Dassanayake too would have been quite pleased that one of his ‘old and favourite pupils’ had recognised him at that late hour on the Parliament Road and let him off the hook for driving after excessive drinking.

On our drive back to Thalawatugoda silence reigned between the two of us. As I was contemplating how to meet up with 'Alugosuwa,' before I returned to London,

Mr. Dassanayake came with the appropriate suggestion.

 "I say, we must try and meet again before you leave for London. Try and organise 'Alugosuwa' also to come, if he is not on duty".I nodded with enthusiasm saying,'Yes, Sir, at the Orient Club again!'

Note: All names are fictitious and bear no personal relevance to anyone

Sri Express - 2013