Denzil's Stories

I lost my brother How a boy lost and found his kid brother I was in high school at St Benedict’s College. Being the eldest child in the family came with serious responsibilities. My kid brother, Rohitha, was eight years old. In the mornings, I was assigned to drop him at his school, St. Anthony’s College. After dropping him off safely at his school, I travelled to my school in a different direction, a distance of seven kilometres. The trip to drop my brother off involved taking two buses, interchanging at a junction to a second bus. Jostling with adult passengers, we both took this complex travel journey every day on a crowded route. Buses were always full. Full of passengers, many buses did not stop at our stop. When the occasional bus stopped, people rushed to enter from both exits, front and back, willy-nilly. Exits had no doors. Buses would leave while passengers were getting off and getting in. Buses did not wait for anyone, so people got off and got on pretty quickly. People trav...

Baptised in hooch How a night of booze changed a young man’s life T hat weekend, my friends and I were booked for an all-night party at Ragama, Sri Lanka. The occasion was the annual feast at St. Peter’s and Paul’s church, some ten kilometres away from my home. It was an event worth celebrating by Catholic lads. We assembled on a Saturday evening as a group and headed to Brian’s home. Brian was Edward’s friend. Two of them worked at Inter-Continental Hotel. It was the first time I met Brian, his elder brother Errol and their parents. In an era your friend’s friend was your friend, there was a lot of implied trust between friends. Brian was a flamboyant character on the go. We clicked immediately. St Peter and Paul’s church at Ragama By about eight pm, Brian started the house party. There were a dozen fellows and a very few girls. Brian was a fabulous host. Liquor galored, the hooch type. A lot of dancing with loud music. Everyone was drinking. The hooch tasted like a fizzy drink. I gul...