In the Old Parliament by the sea:

Decorum was hallmark of old legislature

Highly disciplined democrats debated national issues:

Premil RATNAYAKE

It stood like a giant sentinel brooding in lionhood fashion overlooking the Indian Ocean. The brilliant and resplendent seashore was kissed incessantly by thousands of waves lapping it as if paying homage to the supreme, concreted edifice where the people’s representatives sit and shape the country’s destiny. The old cannons, now grey with age, also like sentries, which are used only on ceremonial occasions stay majestically mounted reminding you of the colonial past.

The promenade on the Galle Face Green refreshing to the eye because of its evergreen turf served the Members of Parliament as an ideal venue for idle jogging to ease their limbs and minds after some strenuous session in the chamber. There were other sentinels too, the human ones - statues of dead legislators down from D S Senanayake to others - keeping vigil perhaps a trifle saddened by the gross unparliamentary conduct of some members at present. Alas, they are helpless, so are we.

Picturesque

It was not a gigantic building but it had a quaint charm though unembellished by artifacts like in the present Parliament by the Diyawanna Oya. It was solid concrete as solid and mature like D S Senanayake himself - this, we venture to think, is a fair and reasonable comparison. Another unique feature of the Old Parliament was its great flight of steps that led to the complex proper.

It was widely open signifying the openness of the entire legislature. The foyer like a large drawing room in some ancient country house was picturesque - there were portraits of former MPs; a painting in colour of Sir John Kotalawela done by David Paynter. Pictures of some old members adorned a part of the wall pinned on a canvas gallery.

And it took you back to a time gone by - most of them were clouded young versions of the old MPs.

The cafeteria in the corner was small and sparse as were the other sections in the building. The celebrated saying ‘Small is Beautiful’ is apt for a general description of the Old Parliament. Besides all this there was the friendly atmosphere, the intimacy which characterised the entire place born of its closed compactness - everybody was close and near to each other. It was devoid of the emptiness, the hollowness of a big edifice. You could saunter in the lobby chatting to members. Even Ministers - that was a privilege we enjoyed as parliamentary reporters.

With that personal contact we were able to obtain stories outside the gambit of Parliament; check some other story which would in all probability not included in the day’s agenda called business of the day.

All members dined in the cosy cafeteria, including Prime Ministers.

We in the press were sometimes invited there by members for tea followed by a tete-a-tete - there was a great sense of bonhomie.

Leader of the Opposition J R Jayewardene walks in and sits with us; he calls for, takes one, lights it and hands the pack to us, saying: “All yours; I had my fill for the day.”

Parliamentary page

Two tables away Communist stalwart Sarath Muttetuwegama is chain-smoking. Observing JRs austerity in smoking and his magnanimity Sarath M remarks: “Why isn’t he (JR) Prime Minister yet?” JR only puts on his enigmatic, indulgent grin.

Minister Lalith Athulathmudali walks in with Daily News Parliamentary reporter Patrick Cruez. It seemed that Athulathmudali’s speech on the previous day in Parliament had not been adequately reported - he called the production,“emasculated.” Patrick is taking down in shorthand (he was very proficient in that medium) Lalith’s speech repeated by the Minister himself.

In its more complete, unmasculated version the speech would be carried the following day in the parliamentary page of the CDN. Athulathmudali could have raised the matter of the mangled speech officially with the Speaker.

But Lalith was a genuine friend of the press and not wishing to embarrass the Daily News called on Patrick (the reporter concerned) direct to have the matter rectified. And it was duly done.

Pressmen covering Parliamentary proceedings were assigned a balcony like open area at the Western end of the building where the journalists worked, had their meals and rested. It had two large tables resembling billiard tables on which reporters kept their portables and heaps of writing paper.

Press gallery

Appuhamy, a quiet, soft-spoken man was our caterer. He served us tea, lunch and even dinner when Parliament sat late. A rice and curry meal cost one rupee - it was so cheap that even reporters not covering Parliament sneaked in for lunch.

In the morning as we trooped in we wrote our names and the name of the paper on a sheet of paper that Appuhamy had provided us and the meals were there well covered, for, we did not know at what hour we would be able to eat. We settled Appuhamy only after we got our petty cash chits encashed by our peon Sumanapala.

Sumanapala carried our portable and writing paper from Lake House which was very close to Parliament. On days Sumanapala had to handle our petty cash chits going through the bureaucrat procedure at Lake House we took over his work. Sumanapala of course did not undertake our work for nothing- he encashed the chits and gave us the money only after he had deducted his fee for the labour involved. We did not grudge nor did we complain because the poor chap deserved his tip.

Before we went upstairs to the press gallery overlooking the chamber we went to the Parliament office to collect the day’s documents which included the Order Paper which spelled out the agenda for the day.

These were a sizeable load and at the end of the day reporters would carry them to the old Baillie Street and hawk them to the old newspaper vendors.

The reporters invariably got the money for their evening booze after Parliament adjourned for the day.

Yet, there was one reporter from the Dinamina distraught and remorseful lament loudly - “aiyo machan, see what we are doing? We are making drinking money out of Parliamentary literature.” Despite this regret he would repeat his performance the next day. The reporters were though impetuous were a responsible tribe.

They took their job seriously - in a sense Parliament coverage was as sensitive as court reporting. You couldn’t afford to commit mistakes. Members like judges were protected by privilege.