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The Story of John Christie (J.C.) Jayawardane

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The Story of John Christie (J.C.) Jayawardane A young man born into duty, J.C.J. Jayawardane endured loss, strict discipline, academic setbacks and a mother’s illness — but quietly forged his own path. Denzil Jayasinghe 4 min read · 23 hours ago 1 T he story of John Christie Jayawardane begins in a house where voices and silences mingled, where kin lived under one roof in the old Ceylonese way, and where discipline and love were never easily separated. He was the eldest son, and from his earliest days it was clear that life would demand much of him. Julie lived with them then. She was a grand-aunt, his mother Euphracia’s mother’s cousin, and daughter of the strong-willed Paistina. She became the hand that soothed the children, the one who made sure they ate, bathed, and slept, while Euphracia’s mother Anna struggled with frailty and sorrow. Alongside her was Rosalin, another aunt and a gentle presence. For young Christie, these women formed a shield against the harsher temper of his fa...
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The Quiet Turmoil of Simeon

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The Quiet Turmoil of Simeon In Eldeniya’s misty lanes, Simeon began as a devoted teacher. But life’s detours, betrayals, and illness drew him into a quiet turmoil that tested love and endurance Denzil Jayasinghe 4 min read · 2 days ago In the soft, sun-dappled lanes of Eldeniya, Kadawatha, some fifteen kilometers north of Colombo, where the morning mist clung to the coconut palms, Simeon began his days as a young teacher. There was a quiet joy in his step as he walked to the schoolhouse, his books tucked under his arm, his heart full of stories to share with his pupils. He was a man who loved the chalk-dusted world of learning, and in those early years, it seemed he’d found his place under the wide, generous sky. His sisters, Anna and Agida, shared his love for books, though Agida, swayed by their mother’s practical hand, set her dreams of teaching aside. Francis, another brother, roamed from one odd job to another, while Simeon, steady and sure, carried the family’s hopes in his schoo...
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Long Trousers and Kerosene Lamps

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Long Trousers and Kerosene Lamps Denzil Jayasinghe 3 min read · 3 days ago In post-independence Colombo, a boy of sixteen — my father — lit his lessons with coconut husks, chasing English, friendship, and dignity symbolised by long trousers. In the late 1940s, Colombo was a city learning to breathe on its own. Trams clanged through Pettah, while the harbour breeze carried the smell of salt and street food — boiled gram, roasted peanuts, and stringhoppers wrapped in yesterday’s news. In that restless crowd was my father, a boy of sixteen, thin as a reed, his schooldays already fading behind him. He had sat his exams in Sinhala at St. Francis in Dalugama, a village of paddy fields and quiet hardship. But in a world that still bowed to English, such an achievement counted for little. His father was gone, his mother — my grandmother — left to shoulder life’s burdens with quiet courage. My father might have been forgiven for giving up, for shrinking into a life of small horizons. But there ...
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