The boys rejoiced whenever a teacher did not turn up in class. They knew it would be a free-format class where they could do whatever they wanted. Shirley, the class monitor, took over, acting like he was the teacher in charge.
Shirley’s command of the classroom was like a lullaby to the unruly students. He had a no-nonsense voice, and it carried an unmistakable authority. He didn’t need to shout or raise his voice to get the students’ attention. He spoke, and they listened.
On the other hand, the meek teachers were constantly struggling to control the class. They would shout and yell, but the students would ignore them. They were like a dog that barks but doesn’t bite.
Shirley, on the other hand, was like a lion. He was also powerful and confident. He knew he could handle any situation, and the students knew it too. That’s why they listened to him.
Shirley’s methods differed from meek teachers but were also more effective.
Ultimately, Shirley’s command of the classroom was more powerful than the teachers’ shouts and yells. He got the students’ attention and kept them focused on learning, and that’s what mattered.
Image created by Bing AI
Jayantha, the class monitor in the next year, ruled the class with a gentle hand. He towered over his classmates in his slacks, a natural leader who earned their respect. He could tame the wildest boys with a word or a look and keep the class in order when the teachers were away. He had a way with words used to help his friends craft their excuses for skipping school. He was also passionate about penpals and shared his treasure trove of foreign contacts with the boys.
Occasionally, Basil stepped in and took charge of the class. He had a different idea of fun. He turned the chairs and desks into a daring obstacle course and performed gymnastics. The boys watched in awe as he flipped and twisted in the air. They had never witnessed such acrobatic feats before
Basil performed flips, twists, and jumps while balancing on the chairs and desks. He even did a handstand on the top of a desk. The boys cheered and clapped as he performed.
When Basil was finished, the boys were exhausted but happy. They had never had so much fun in a class before. Basil was a natural gymnast, and he acted like a seasoned performer.
Image created by Bing AI
The next time a teacher did not turn up in class, the boys looked to Basil to take over. They knew that he would put on a good show.
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 Stanley lookalike Where did they
My experiences of rebellions How waves of violence in Sri Lanka broke a young man’s heart Warning — Distressing scenes described in this story. A YOUTH INSURRECTION DURING MY BOYHOOD 1971 — There was a strong student and youth socialist movement styled on the “Che Guevara” clique. Many poor, unemployed and underprivileged young people joined this movement. My two elder cousins, my father’s brother’s children, Sisira and Marie, were also in this rebel group. In their home. They replaced Jesus’s picture with that of Mao Zedong and Che Guevara. Both of them, teenagers, boldly spoke about a future socialist society. A society in which everyone was equal in Sri Lanka. Young as I was, it was a bit gibberish to me. In April 1971, the movement turned violent. The insurrection began when the rebels started attacking police stations. The Sri Lankan government responded by deploying armed forces with brutal force. Rebels cut power lines and blocked roads with trees in the countryside. Schools wer
Arya Sinhala This story is about the significance of this costume in my family and its cultural relevance. My father wore shirts and pants as any English-educated Sri Lankan male did back in the day. Everybody gave their children English names. I am named Denzil Bernard. A few years after I was born, in the 1950s, Sri Lanka was trying to assert its ethnic identity, a decade after it gained independence from Great Britain. A new prime minister, espousing an ethnocentric identity, came into power. Emulating Indian leaders’ post-independence direction, he gave up his Western attire, despite his Oxford education and wore the national dress, Arya Sinhala. Arya is an ethnic and cultural designation to which the Sinhala race makes claims. The cultural transformation started in my family. My sister, born four years after me, was named Rekha Flora. She had an ethnic name and a Western name. Occasionally my father donned the national dress. My father’s elder brother ultimately gave up his West
Comments
Post a Comment