rki_tectura

This is a special episode which is a collection of memories and thoughts which I gathered  from comments I received both via the blog and mainly through personal conversation  after publishing th e first episode.       My father (to whom I refer as ' Appachchi' - the Sinhalese upcountry word for 'father; or as 'Appu'_the shorter fondly version) shared a memory of him saving three of us from falling a balcony during our stay at Gampola. Government servants moving places like gipsies from one city to another when they receive a transfer after 4 years was a common experience during those days. From the year my parents got married in their mid-30s (doctors married late due to their academic and professional commitments in the early stages of their careers) to the year we settled down in Kandy , my parents have had m oved a number of  times ; Hemmathagama, Ankumbura, Kandy (few times- at one occasion my father was working in Kandy while at another he was a...

I have been living in a few different types of living spaces. Though I vaguely remember living at a doctor's quarters in Gampola and at an apartment in New South Wales, Australia (both due to memorable events; the first is my eldest brother falling into a limestone pit and the latter because of myself falling from a staircase, ending up in my head between the wall and a flower pot.       My solid memories of living space during my childhood were of a small single-storey house my parents rented in Kurunegala. It had an entrance porch, living, dining, kitchen, single washroom, two bedrooms and two courtyards, each opening into the living and dining; and it had a large garden where my two brothers and I used to hop around and stretch ourselves to our heart’s content.  Our house was 'the' cricket ground for our friends in the neighbourhood. The garden was a usual space for me since it allowed me to free myself from everything else; a place where I found solitude; I ...