There comes a time, out of nowhere, your life shifts unexpectedly. Suddenly the course of life and your fate is altered forever. It could be dramatic or otherwise. You may not realise it at the time or figure it out many years later, with clear-eyed sunshine down the track. Or in other words, in hindsight.
For me, it started with a telegram. I walked into my office in downtown Colombo on a typical workday casually. Surprisingly, everyone wanted to talk to me when I got to my workstation — huge hullabaloo around me.
By the way, I worked as a telecommunication worker in the only telecom company in Sri Lanka. I was the youngest of the crew.
In my name, a telegram from Dubai offered me a job. How the offer came about is a long-winded story about youthful bluster and a friendship.
Reproduction of the telegram from Dubai
I left work early that day and came home determined to accept the job offer in Dubai. Young as I was, there was nothing to lose. I had no fear and no financial pressure. I would give my ‘sudden shift’ a good go. I was excited about my ‘sudden shift’.
My parents supported my wish and offered help. But there were a few barriers to cross before jumping on my latest bandwagon.
I was on an employment bond where I worked. Either work for them for five years or pay the contracted bond I signed two years ago at the end of my apprenticeship. The bond was a considerable sum, which I did not have, equivalent to about 18 months of my pay. A deterrence that could trap me.
Here comes my eternal rescuer, my father. He was always my go-to person in trouble. He generously offered to pay the bond. One problem was solved. I had no passport; back then, at my age, nobody had one. The next challenge was to get one quickly in a country saddled with bureaucracy.
Within a matter of a few days, I resigned from the workplace. One of my dear uncles, who probably thought I was a cool kid, agreed to sign a bond guaranteeing my passport. I got the coveted black key within ten days, a record. Nothing could stop me now. No barriers.
The world was going to be my oyster. Bonds are to be broken. It is OK to be naive and young.
I booked my flight to Dubai. Getting my gear packed and ready to leave was easy. I had lived away from home in boarding schools not many years ago. So this was no big deal.
The last night at home was a tough one. First, my mother came to my bedside and cried, pouring her anguish about letting go of her eldest son. Then, she touched my head and recalled the events of my childhood. With tears streaming, she said she would miss her firstborn. Then, my father came to the bedroom and said a few things. But, I had no notion of their anguish and sorrow.
Critical annotation from my first passport — I recorded my father as the next of death or accident — Denzil’s handwriting.
The next day, the 20th of April 1977, my parents, brother and sister, friends and relatives came to bid farewell to me at the airport.
My parents were sad to let me go. I figured that from how my father held me tightly and kissed both cheeks as I bid him farewell at the airport. I must have broken their hearts, although they did not show it. My mother’s eyes were red with tears when she hugged me and touched my forehead. But, Naïve and young, I did not think much of their pain.
Wearing my only suit and tie at the airport, I must have looked pretty young. Airport security asked whether I was going to study overseas. The flight took off at 10:35 pm on time. I was on my first international flight, flying into Dubai on Singapore Airlines, SQ707.
I was the first on both sides of my parent’s generation to leave Sri Lanka.
Some three and a half hours later, I could see my friend Brian looking over from the arrival lounge in Dubai airport in the early morning hours the next day.
Dubai Airport in 1977
I cleared immigration at Dubai airport, joining Brian. I took off with him to where I would stay with my friend.
My life changed forever from that day. That was my sudden shift. The day I left Sri Lanka for good.
Of course, you can’t forget your home country. It is in your bones. I visited Sri Lanka regularly, but only as a visitor, a few years later, as an Australian. It feels strange to apply for a visa to visit your birth country.
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