It’s not even mid December yet and I’m already getting in to the
I’m not going to write about some big match that happened long time ago or about a scintillating inning played by some fool. The year was 1996. My last year in college. Initial pledge was to start studing for A’ Levels from the first of Jan and then take a break during March and start again after the Mustangs Trophy. My plan went as far as my plan. Cricket World Cup happened,
Anyway as I started, the year was 1996. At Tuesdays special assembly, Warden W.M.N De Alwis appointed the cricket captain as a college prefect and issued a death warrant against all who would be breaking the law in the next couple of days. The threat was remembered till around 10.00am. Approximately till 5 minutes after assembly was over. Come Wednesday morning a small crowd of around 120 creatures clad in different shades of blue and black meet on top of Orbanside Street Dehiwala. Trying hard to look as inconspicuous as possible. However war paint made us stand out like…….
We wait a good 45 minutes for our ride. A C.T.B half bus!!! Don’t even ask how we got a C.T.B bus to go trucking. Somebody can still go to jail for that!! How 50 teenage boys, 6 members of a papare band, a driver and a conductor fitted in to a 45 seat mini bus still don’t fail to amaze me!!
So we make our way in to
We exit as peacefully was we entered, passing the Double-Decker bus. Ah, that bus. I am yet to come across a Thomian who has not given thanks and prays to that bus. I love that bus. Next stop St. Bridgets Convent. I remember SBC now with more affection than then. High gates, higher walls (with spikes, what purpose they serve at such an altitude one fails to comprehend) and young security guards. One girls school which didn’t believe in hiring sweet retired old men. All of us generally charge the gate when we sense hostility. In the cheos that follows, a handful will penetrate the forward defense lines of any security measurement. Somehow the gates withstood the force of the blue army. Yours truly and the now infamous Malaka Silva climb the penitentiary like wall. Hurray! Penetration successful. Now we will attack from both sides. Unfortunately the wiseasses on the other side decide the effort was not worthwhile. Now we were prisoners of war. Shit. I fail to remember how but we somehow get on top of the 12 feet high wall. Jumping off it to the tar pavement is another story all together. To add to the agony Malakas’ t-shirt gets caught on one of the spikes. He yells at me to let go. I tell him that I’m not holding on. He threatens to jump. I ask him to fuck off. The next sight haunts me to this day. Malaka bare bodied running to the mercy of the bus while his t-shirt hangs on one of the wall spikes at SBC!!!
We go all the way down to the beach just to get in to
Come 1.30pm we end up at