Looking out from a window, the runway, the acceleration, the roars, the take-off, and everything becoming smaller by the second. As if I have wings now.
The enormous terminal building at Ratmalana becomes smaller in front of my eyes. The airport looks like a running pitch. The Ratmalana — Colombo Road looks like a winding track, like a curved serpent. The buses and cars plying look tiny. It is like a boy’s playpen with dinky toys. The coconut trees become smaller. This is a marvel, a dream. Nothing like a little boy has experienced before. The ground will never be the same.
Two cotton buds cover my ears. Chewing lozenges given by the smiling blue saree-wearing hostess, I enjoy my flight. I am sitting in a window seat, grasping the view of the world below me. It is a pleasure to view like a flying bird. This new power inspires me to imagine. It shifts my thinking. The space I lived in is such a small place. There is a bigger world out there. I have been small up to now.
The plane soars above the city of Colombo. On my left is the blue sea with ships anchored in the Colombo harbour. The vessels are tiny. Their smoking funnels are even smaller. They look like little paper boats I play with when it rains. But in reality, they must be enormous. I wipe my eyes to pinch myself that this is real.
A little later, I am among the green, fauna and bushland. So much green. Then the occasional rivers and waterways. Tiny homes and tiny cars dot the sparse roads. But I cannot see any humans.
The plane goes over a big nature reserve. I see rows of elephants from above. They are like rats from up high.
My view is like pages from a picture book I have read before. Everything is new. I am amazed. I am mesmerised.
Half an hour later, the land is not so green anymore. Now, all I see are the fallen coconut trees. My father comes over, leaving my little sister in her seat. He says the trees were fallen by a vicious cyclone that hit northern Ceylon a few months earlier. I am amazed that so much damage can be caused by wind. I had no idea that a cyclone could cause so much mayhem.
The plane roars. I can see the jet engines whirling under the plane’s wings. The air hostess offers me more lozenges, toffees, Maliban biscuits and orange juice. I see some clouds for the first time under me. I did not know that I could fly above white clouds. I could be a bird, flying over villages, beaches, jungles, wildlife reserves and above clouds. I wish I could touch the clouds, but the windows in the plane are tight and closed.
More snacks and sweets follow from the smiling air hostess. Finally, she gives me a tiny envelope with a storybook with “Air Ceylon” printed in yellow and red.
I am in a tranquil land, above the skies. I think of my mother and kid brother at home. I think of Kadayamma, my grandmother. I wish they had accompanied my father and sister on this air trip.
I feel excited. Below me are land, waterways, animals, houses, gardens, and standing and fallen trees. I remain seated, pressed against the cold windowpane until the Air Ceylon plane starts to descend. My ears hurt. My father asks me to yawn. The air hostess gives me a toffee to chew and two new cotton buds for the ears. Little by little, everything on the ground becomes bigger. The landscape is different, arid, and sandy.
The plane lands with two thuds. It reaches the tiny terminal building at the domestic airport of Kankesanthurai, some 260 miles north of where I flew in from. I descend the rickety steps to the hot tarmac holding my father’s hand. My sister is on the other side of him, holding him tight.
I am going to tell all my friends about the wonders of flying.
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 ...
Neville at the Edge Denzil Jayasinghe 3 min read · 10 hours ago In the lazy, sun-dappled days at St. Joseph’s Novitiate, where the beach seemed to hum with the scent of jasmine and the distant promise of monsoon clouds, there was a little haven we boys held dear — the Milk Bar. It was a humble shack just beyond the school’s creaky gates, its tin roof glinting under the noon sun, its wooden counter cluttered with frothy glasses of Milo, bottles of sweet vanilla milk, and a jumble of pencils and dog-eared notebooks for forgetful lads like us. To us, De La Salle boys, it wasn’t just a shop. It was a sanctuary, where the weight of prayers and the Brother-Superior’s stern frowns dissolved into the clink of coins and the soft buzz of our chatter. Neville was always there, a gangly boy with limbs that seemed to outgrow him, as if they belonged to a taller shadow. His parents had sent him to the Novitiate dreaming he’d don a Christian Brother’s collar, but Neville, with his twice-failed ...
Packing lists An addiction to packing lists Denzil Jayasinghe 3 min read·Nov 6, 2022 My fascination with packing lists started when I was young. Eventually, it became a life-long habit, a kind of addiction. When I enrolled at the Christian brothers’ formative school at eleven, a packing list was given to my parents. 2 School shorts 2 School shirts, white 2 Baniyans, aka vests 4 Pairs of white socks 1 Sarong 2 Casual shirts 2 Casual shorts 2 Handkerchiefs 1 Toothbrush 1 Comb 1 Bedsheet 2 Pillowcases 1 Pair of black shoes 1 Pair of canvas sports shoes My parents went into fast gear to assemble the packing list. My father started from the bottom of the list, the shoes. He took me by bus to Colombo to P G Martins, a shoemaker. We came out of that shoe store with DS-branded black and Shinwa-branded canvas shoes. Also bought was a Ford suitcase, in shiny sky-blue colour. Mother bought vests and socks from Velona, a garment outlet run by one of our relations, Aunty Helen. A trip to a ta...
3 min read·Jan 12
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