Thursday Nov 21, 2024
Saturday, 2 April 2016 00:00 - - {{hitsCtrl.values.hits}}
"Really, if the lower orders don't set us a good example, what on earth is the use of them?" – ‘The Importance of Being Earnest,’ Oscar Wilde
“To be a colonial is to be a little ridiculous and unlikely, especially in the eyes of someone from the metropolitan country” –‘Literary Occasions,’ V.S. Naipaul
The crowd was heavier than usual, something big was happening in the bustling provincial town, something that suspends the normal order, disturbs and disrupts the place. Noticeably younger, mostly male, in nondescript casual wear, they were also far less orderly than the usual town-goer, more aggressive, empowered; no longer autonomous individuals, but carried by the unpredictable collective.
It is a town I pass through at least once a month. Situated amidst the rubber plantations in the rolling countryside of the southwest of the island, the town of Matugama provides the market, the Government departments, commercial hub, schools and the entertainment centre for the area.
Even on an average working day it is a chaotic little town; small dingy commercial establishments packed together – some shop displays even intruding on to the narrow pavement, fading signboards competing for space, loud speakers announcing attractive bargains, hawkers’ cries and the insistent horns of the three-wheelers assail the ears.
Right in the middle of the town is a large bus terminal disgorging a seemingly endless stream of humanity into the stifling heat of the town. On the narrow road in front of the terminal is a pedestrian crossing, redundant in the never-ending throng. There is always somebody crossing the road, causing an ever-lengthening line of stopped vehicles, while the vehicle right at the crossing is paused tensely, and waiting for a second’s break in the human chain.
This day it was simply impassable. The crowd had overwhelmed the town. Released from the usual constraints, they were not to be denied. Not wanting to risk an accident and having no urgent matter to attend, we decided to stop by a tea boutique and wait for some order to return to the town. With me were two friends, Nalin and Rohan, both now domiciled in the US. They were visiting family living here and took the opportunity to explore that part of the country with me.
Battle of the Mangosteen
At the boutique we realised that all the excitement in the town was caused by the “big match” between two secondary schools in Matugama. The cricketing encounter is playfully called the Battle of the Mangosteen, after the delicious fruit growing widely in the Kalutara District. Although a weekday, the school boy game had attracted thousands, bringing the town to a stop. Several of the revellers, mostly middle-aged former students of the two schools, were in the boutique sipping tea. We befriended three of them sitting nearest to us. My friends from the US, curious about the phenomenon of the big match, did most of the talking.
The cricket enthusiasts were from one school. One was now an Engineer with the government Electricity Board, the second, a school teacher based in Matara while the third was a Sub-Inspector with the Police. When asked why they come for this match from their respective stations, foregoing responsibilities at work as well as personal commitments, they were unanimous that this was the only occasion when they could meet with their old school friends.
“As adults, do you have much in common with them now?” asked Nalin.
It took some time for them to grasp the meaning of the question. The school teacher answered:
“The friendships we forged as children are strong. We like to maintain them.”
“But you meet them only once a year?”
“Yes, that is true”
“And you continue from there?”
It was apparent that the three of them have had relatively successful career paths. School, say between five and 17, thereafter four years or so at university/Police training school followed by their respective careers, facing the inevitable challenges and rewards of adult life, marriage, children. The impact of what had happened after they had passed the age of 17, on reaching maturity, were not as deep or did not seem to matter. Time spent exploring brave new ideas at the university, meeting of minds of similar strengths, mastering career skills, meant little. What mattered were the beginning; rudimentary reading, writing and arithmetic in your callow years before 17. It is that which must be celebrated infinitely.
Rohan, now an academic at an American university, and anything but an athlete, queried:
“But why meet your old school friends in this manner, in a near hooligan atmosphere, at a school boy cricket match in this hot sun?”
It was the Sub-Inspector, the upholder of the law, who answered:
“Cricket is our national sport, the only game introduced by the British where we can compete confidently at an international level. Everybody has played some sort of cricket, maybe with even a soft ball. The ‘big match’ gives us an opportunity to organise reunions. True, there is a certain amount of relaxing of the rules on these two days. I heard that some of the boys had invaded a girl’s school in town this morning. But they were invited to invade!”
“What have you learnt from all this, in which way have you evolved, been enriched?” Nalin asked them.
The Engineer at the Electricity Board, now a portly balding middle age, picked that up.
“It is the traditions that we learnt in school and of course the spirit of cricket – ‘play up, play up and play the game’ and so on, play according to the rules, umpire’s word is law; learn to take defeat as well as victory like true gentlemen”
“Now, if you had not gone to this particular school or studied under those particular teachers, would you have not picked up these values, from your parents, adults around you or simply from the society you move in? Or, are these values absent in the larger society?” probed Nalin.
There was no answer from them. Perhaps there is no easy answer.
Power problems
While chatting we realised that the power had gone off in the area, apparently a regular occurrence. In addition to the huge losses to the economy, the sudden surges of power which follows a blackout damages electrical equipment including refrigerators. A lot of food goes bad and has to be thrown away.
Providing a good electrical supply to a country is obviously an adult activity. It calls for, among other things, the mental aspects of taking responsibility, foresight, diligence and consistency. From what is being experienced by the entire country today, these are not the primary qualities of the Engineers working at the Electricity Board. A person may claim the basic qualifications, but performing in the adult world requires character traits different to those with minds of only teenage maturity.
It is unlikely that these three “old boys” thought of themselves inadequate in any way. But through the eyes of a person from a metropolitan society or an advanced country, they will seem unlikely, a mere pose of a modern profession, mimicking the role of an engineer, teacher, a Policeman, with only a hazy understanding of their real function.
The role of a Policeman is to uphold the law, independently, impartially and reasonably. But in a society so politicised this is hardly possible. Besides, the rampant tribalism of feudal minds will not allow for an objective process. In the mental process of the Sub-Inspector, the invasion of a girl’s school by an unruly mob of boys from his own school is really a friendly calling over, on invitation. In such a mindset, the shooting of an opponent by a supporter of the ruling party can become an accidental firing of a gun, just as easily!
The Engineer works in a system where the suitability of any equipment or the appropriateness of a course of action depends on influence, bribes, commissions or kickbacks. While mouthing the famous lines – ‘Play up, play up and play the game’, his every action conveys the very opposite to what the poet meant. Despite all the puff about the qualifications of the many Engineers at the Electricity Board, it is no surprise that the Government is now calling on Germany for the expertise needed to address the regular power failures the country is made to go through.
Similarly, a teacher, in order to value add, must be larger than the subject, approach it with an objective mind, be open to learn new things and ideas. Students who are fortunate enough to meet a good teacher are transformed, enriched for life. As much as I would have liked to, it was impossible to picture the teacher in front of us as a transformative figure.
Lagging behind
In the opinion of recognised international organisations, not only is our economy in a parlous state, but even in other vital aspects such as honesty (of systems), transparency, service standards, we lag behind. Hysterical claims of traditions, sporting spirit and high business ethics notwithstanding, the very opposite seems to predominate.
To claim high standards, even if it is for just two boozy days in the hot sun, when such standards are nowhere in the horizon, is to be hypocritical or naïve. This escape in to the make-believe has now become second nature. And the ‘boys’ would be the last to notice the fault lines of a society.
In this fictional world, men are redefined; hoary adults become old boys, not ageing men. At the match in Matugama, the three old friends were not celebrating an achievement or an accomplishment, but only an unending adolescence of mind.
Despite the chaos, the heat, the shoddy surroundings and the absurdity of it all, they were content.