On the 7th of August, 1955, the sun rose with alacrity, eager to burn away any lingering night mists, and smiled throughout the day before sleepily settling into the soft, warm embrace of the Indian Ocean, west of the Isle of Sri Lanka. I cannot honestly attest to the veracity of that statement, for I had just been born on that island as the seventh and last child of my parents.
My early education was at St Joseph’s College, the premier Catholic boys school on the island. I think my teachers collectively threw up their hands at my insipid progress through the school. There was one brief flaring of the light when they might have thought that their efforts would finally come to fruition, for I had been a member of the Boy Scout Patrol that won the coveted Mayor’s Flag Trophy two years running; the first time a catholic school had ever won the trophy. But to their great disappointment, I soon resumed my undistinguished school career.
To their utter amazement, I entered the Medical Faculty of Colombo in 1975 and graduated as a doctor five years later. After Internship, I worked at the Colombo General hospital before resigning to work as a doctor with a construction company on the Mahaweli River development scheme. During this period, bird watching was an excuse for me to hike and camp in some of the wildest places in Sri Lanka.
I emigrated to the UK in 1984. I was elected a Member of the Royal College of Psychiatrists and obtained an MA from the University of Manchester in Health Information Management. When I finally retired as a Consultant Psychiatrist in 2020, I had worked for the NHS for over thirty-six years.
My love affair with literature began when I was four years old when my father read Enid Blyton’s The Enchanted Wood to me. It kicked started my imagination, sending it soaring into orbit. In my mind’s eye, with a little help from Dorothy Wheeler’s lovely illustrations, I could clearly see the three children as they explored the woods full of fairies, pixies and talking animals at the back of their garden. In the middle of the wood stood the Magic Faraway Tree, so tall it touched the clouds. Any sane person would point out that it would be impossible for three children to climb such a tree, but to become a literature aficionado, the first thing you must learn is to dispel disbelief. I marvelled at the creatures they met- the Angry Pixie who would throw ink at the people peeping through his window; the sweet fairy Silky, who baked delicious Pop Tarts that burst in your mouth releasing the sweetest honey. Then there was Moonface, in whose house was a ‘slippery slip’ that one could ride all the way to the bottom of the tree. Right at the top was a little ladder that led through the clouds into a magical land that changed every few days. I followed the children closely in all their adventures. From then on, I was hooked on reading anything and everything. I made it a point to read the Magic Faraway Tree books to my four children when they reached that receptive age of four. They too loved the books.
I have always been fond of telling stories to any one who bothered to listen. Retirement gave me the opportunity to write down some of my stories. I enrolled in a one year Certificate course in Creative Writing at Cambridge University and gained a Distinction. This gave me the confidence to do a Masters Degree in Creative Writing at the Metropolitan University of Manchester. I qualified with a Distinction and took some time off before re-enrolling with a view to turning my Masters into an MFA.
My children have now left home and I live with my wife Sita, just outside a village in the county of Rutland. I am an intermittent gardener, an occasional DIYer, bird watcher and sometimes have been known to peer through a telescope at the stars. But reading and writing is my abiding passion.
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