Silly March, Cricket and Old Boys

Ravi Perera

We know that the March madness is here, when pot bellied beady-eyed papas, hoary with age gather at sweltering dust bowls, which pass off for cricket grounds to celebrate their childhood.

Their right, the old school tie and the game, cricket. From near and far they come to watch, tipple, raucously hail fellow old boys and indulge in antics, some of which if performed at a circus would impress even regular circus clowns.

Benevolent

To the European colonizers the natives were all "boys". Not quite deserving of adult status and certainly not good enough to manage their own affairs unsupervised.

If one did not keep a stern but benevolent eye on them they were wont to fight each other, indulge in favouritism or corruption or at worse descend into murder and general mayhem.

Why not introduce them to the maddening game of cricket, bring some civility to their dreary lives and give them something to think of as traditions...?

Cricket, far less physical than other English games like Rugby and Soccer, certainly found a ready following in a land with little tradition of sport but rarely attained here the depth and application of world-class cricket.

Occasionally teams from England or Down Under would enjoy a stopover in Colombo for a limb loosner.

The seasick batsmen after a few cold beers in the small stifling pavilion walked to the pitch to face a somewhat half hearted bowling attack, then put a couple more beers under the belt, obliged the admiring local damsels with autographs and went on their way again.

youngsters

This was more or less our cricket until 1996 when some intrepid youngsters, mainly from not so regarded vernacular schools, put us on the cricketing map by winning the World Cup albeit in the limited over form of the game. To the uninitiated the veritable circus at 'big' matches may appear surreal. True, the old boys gather under a sweltering March sun to have fun and they do it with malice to none.

Revelers

But it is a fact that in the context of our particular national evolution many of the middle age revelers playing the donkey in the sweltering heat happen to hold vital positions in society.

The British established these secondary schools to find supporting staff for their colonial efforts and duly rewarded the pliant disciples with the tag of native elite.

This early hold of the so called native elite on the levers of power has continued with fluctuating impact to this day.

Among the more salutary traits said to be mysteriously possessed or inculcated in the old boys was good form, particularly personal integrity.

However except among the diehards it was common knowledge that this claim of a superior sense of probity by the vacuous mimics of a culture so foreign ran thin and there really was no basis for such a pose.

Today we are gripped by newspaper reports of the scandalous events which seemed to have occurred in prominent financial institutions dominated by distinguished old boys.

Even a society such as ours, so inured to evil deeds, is numbed by the level of corruption which seems to have openly prevailed at these institutions. Singaporean Kishore Mahbubani celebrated intellectual and former ambassador at the United Nations of that outstanding country, titled one of his famous books "Can Asians Think?" Obviously the answer to this question is not self evident.

Adolescent years

If a group of persons insist on endlessly celebrating their adolescent years to the exclusion of every other experience since, one can assume that all that had happened to them between leaving school and now have not been intellectually or emotionally rewarding. Apparently since their mid-teens they have neither made any worthy friendships nor been able to adapt meaningfully to the adult world.

The old boys seem secure only in the company of those who shared their callow years and live the rest of their lives pinning for those days.

Often we are frustrated by the poor services and standards that confront us at every level. For example Kothu Roti making is a fairly common way of securing a livelihood in this country.

As to whether the deafening noise made by its practitioners does anything for its taste is doubtful.

But typically it is the general expectation that louder the noise better the taste. Similarly, the pervasive three wheel business looks more like a scavenging activity than a proper transport service.

A more dignified and disciplined attitude would have benefited all the stakeholders of the service but we simply don't seem to have the maturity to go for the higher road. This scenario repeats itself in various forms in almost every sphere of our activity. It is a moot point whether a nation which is determined to remain stuck in childhood memories can evolve adult thinking and methods.

Phenomenon

The old boy phenomenon perhaps is a pointer to the level of maturity of our adult population and may offer a clue to this country's despair.

It is fitting that the silliness of March inevitably gives way April, with dark and sinister memories for this country.

It was in April that the Japanese bombed Colombo and also it was in this month in 1971 that the JVP insurrection occurred, shattering many illusions and permanently scarring the psyche of the nation.

'April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land....' Old boys and big matches, silliness followed by cruelty, frivolity masking unabashed greed, seem the tune to which our national wheel turns.