Iwas nineteen years old, and in a coveted job in Sri Lanka, I worked as a telco professional in the international arm of the state-owned Telecom Service, popularly known as OTS, the only gateway from Sri Lanka to the rest of the world. I joined at eighteen, the previous year and graduated from their training college. I was the youngest in a batch of twenty-five graduates.
In my job, I managed message exchanges from Colombo to various cities, London, Tokyo, Mumbai, Singapore, Aden and Yangon. The networks that ran these exchanges were the forerunners of modern-day high-speed connections. I invite you to read on those early networks where I cut my teeth.
I was a teenager in a well-paying job. I looked younger than my nineteen years. My interests lay in my social life and not in my work. I loved hanging out with my friends and girls, going on holidays, dance parties and all the mischievous activities teenage boys get into at that age. I came to work in between my leisure. The money I earned, I could spend in any way I wished. It was a carefree life with no family responsibilities.
I wore my casual clothes to work. I had a collection of bell bottoms, jeans, T-shirts and colourful singlets; they were the only clothes I had. My co-workers took their formal appearances seriously and dressed in office attire. Nobody dressed like me in OTS. I was the odd young lad who dared to defy the office norms by dressing in my swinging seventies clothes.
English was the only medium of communication. Thanks to my education in Christian schools and a short stint at a university college, I had a good command of English. As a result, I could confidently strike up conversations with anyone and strangers.
While working, I met a young Italian lad, and we struck up a conversation. His name was Franco, a techie from Olivetti, a major network equipment supplier. Franco was sent to Sri Lanka to install equipment in OTS. We instantly became friends. We talked with each other regularly, often going out for tea in the staff cafeteria. I was curious to learn about life in Italy, music and fashion from him.
Sri Lanka was a socialist country with import restrictions that included garments. Foreign-made clothing was in rare supply and was sold at a premium in black markets. I bought most of my clothes from fellow Sri Lankans returning from Europe at exorbitant prices. Jeans were the premium with a hefty price tag.
Denzil with his locally sewn jeans at 19 years
My jeans made from local cloth, paled in quality compared to Franco’s jeans. Instead, Franco wore slick jeans made by Levis and Fiorucci, an Italian fashion house from Milan.
Franco shared with me fine points of his lifestyle in Milan. He was living with his girlfriend on the weekends. During the workweek, he resided near Olivetti’s Head Office, some distance away. He owned a Fiat car. He and his girlfriend were into music. They had their own music stereo set. He attended music festivals in Italy. Franco had a dream life in Italy, while I had none of the things he had. I wished that I could live like him one day. I told him about my life, my parents and what I did when I was not working. Our conversations were interesting, diverse and engaging.
A month later, Franco’s assignment in Sri Lanka was complete. He took me out for a beer at a city bar the day before he left. We parted, bidding each other farewell.
On the next day, I turned up to work. To my surprise, on my work desk was a package wrapped. Unwrapping the box, to my surprise, was a pair of virtually new, neatly pressed jeans. It had a fresh odour, and I smelled it close to my face. I was thrilled to have my first pair of foreign jeans, a treasured item for any teenager in Sri Lanka. The jeans required minor alterations by my skilful personal tailor to fit my slim waist.
I did not have Franco’s contact details to send him a thank-you note. So I had no way of showing my gratitude.
I was sure Franco knew that by a simple act of generosity, he had put a big smile on a young aspiring lad from Sri Lanka. I wished he could see my reaction after seeing his considered gift.
Denzil back in the day
This is a story of generosity and kindness transcending barriers of borders and nations.
Franco! wherever you are, may you live long and be happy.
am witnessed all jaya said. He was a fashion designer at that time in 1973 OTS. I didnot like it as we were not intrested and canot afford such dressing.He was a icon in telecommunications department and mischievous friend in training school . Writekeep going
Cyril Stanley A story of gratitude — Denzil recalls a friend who looked out for him in his budding years in Sri Lanka Denzil Jayasinghe 11 min read · Aug 27, 2022 1 Give us a bit of background on how you met Cyril. It was the seventies in the sleepy village of Dalugama , my ancestral hometown, some ten kilometres from Colombo. With their flared bell bottoms and Afro-style hair, it was easy to notice Cyril and his younger brother Edward. I’d bump into the duo in the neighbourhood as I walked home after a day at college. A casual hello greeting turned into a conversation and an evolving friendship with the duo at an age when making friends was effortless. However, it was Cyril who reached out to me first. What did the brothers look like? C yril was a younger version of Smokey Robinson and his brother, Edward, a junior Lionel Richie but darker. Both had curly hair, grown long, copying the Afro-American idols of the seventies. Smokey Robinson, Cyril Stan...
A Child of Curiosity How inherent inquisitiveness became a key driver in learning experiences. Denzil Jayasinghe · B orn in the mid-20th century, I am a product of the post-World War II era. My parents, who were teenagers when the war commenced, married in the 1950s. As a representative of the baby boomer generation, I was born under the astrological sign of Capricorn, the tenth sign of the zodiac. My birth took place at Zoysa Nursing Home, a renowned institution in Colombo, Sri Lanka, around 5 in the morning. Sri Lanka, known for its tropical climate, is a beautiful island nation south of India. This climate appealed to me, and I sought similar weather in my twenties, spending them in Dubai, where the winter resembles an Australian summer. Raised by religious parents, I held them in deep affection. However, the church teachings posed a paradox for a young mind, instructing one to love God more than one’s parents. I initially adhered to the Ten Commandments and other societal norms in ...
20 quick-fire questions * If you could give your younger self one piece of advice, what would it be? Your life would not turn the way that you planned. It is OK to be naïve and stupidly young. What do you like doing in your spare time? Writing and reading. Both complement each other. What would you change your name to? My family's name is Jayasinghe. ජයසිංහ in Sinhala in the original script. Phonetically, it is pronounced Jaya-Sinha in Sri Lanka. But in English, through generations, it was spelt Jayasinghe, which sounds differently in English. I would change its spelling to Jaya-Sinha to align it with its original sound. Perhaps my grandkids in Australia could do it. What’s your favourite time of day? The morning hours. I am most productive in the mornings. What is your biggest weakness? I could get carried away with what I could be doing. Sometimes, I must pinch myself to stop what I am doing. What is your favourite colour? Green. Always from my kid days. Would you believe I had...
am witnessed all jaya said. He was a fashion designer at that time in 1973 OTS. I didnot like it as we were not intrested and canot afford such dressing.He was a icon in telecommunications department and mischievous friend in training school . Writekeep going
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