Bridging Sri Lanka’s Deficit of Hope: What’s to be done?

Rays of Hope - or just Nature painting colours in the sky? It's in the eye of the beholder...

Rays of Hope – or just Nature painting colours in the sky? It’s in the eye of the beholder…

During the height of the Cold War, Soviet Communist Party chief (Leonid) Brezhnev and his deputy were having a one-on-one meeting.

Brezhnev says, “Maybe it’s time we opened our borders and allowed free emigration?”

The deputy retorts: “Don’t be ridiculous. If we did that, no one would be left in the country except you and me!”

To which Brezhnev replies, “Speak for yourself!”

That was a joke, of course — one of many examples of dark humour that helped communism’s oppressed millions to stay sane.

What might happen if we suddenly found ourselves in a borderless world? Or at least in a world where free movement across political borders was allowed? Which places would see a mass exodus, and to where might people be attracted the most?

I very nearly included the old Soviet joke in my latest op-ed essay titled ‘Bridging Sri Lanka’s Deficit of Hope’ that is published today by Groundviews.org.

It asks WHY many thousands of young men and women of Sri Lanka have been leaving their land — by hook or crook – for completely strange lands. This has been going on for over a generation.

Here’s an excerpt:

For three decades, such action was attributed to the long-drawn Lankan civil war. That certainly was one reason, but not the only one.

It doesn’t explain why, three and a half years after the war ended, the exodus continues. Every month, hordes of unskilled, semi-skilled and professionally qualified Lankans depart. Some risk life and limb and break the law in their haste.

It isn’t reckless adventurism or foolhardiness that sustains large scale human smuggling. That illicit trade caters to a massive demand.

Most people chasing their dreams on rickety old fishing boats are not criminals or terrorists, as some government officials contend. Nor are they ‘traitors’ or ‘ingrates’ as labelled by sections of our media.

These sons and daughters of the land are scrambling to get out because they have lost hope of achieving a better tomorrow in their own country.

I call it the Deficit of Hope. A nation ignores this gap at its peril.

As usual, I ask more questions than I can answer on my own. But I believe it’s important to raise these uncomfortable questions.

Towards the end, I ask: What can be done to enhance our nation’s Hope Quotient?

“Governments can’t legislate hope, nor can their spin doctors manufacture it. Just as well. Hope stems from a contented people — not those in denial or delusion — and in a society that is at ease with itself. We have a long way to go.”

Read the full essay and join the discussion on Groundviews.org:
Bridging Sri Lanka’s Deficit of Hope

Or read the compact version of the essay that appears in Ceylon Today newspaper:

Bridging Sri Lanka's Deficit of Hope by Nalaka Gunawardene - Ceylon Today, 2 Jan 2013

Bridging Sri Lanka’s Deficit of Hope by Nalaka Gunawardene – Ceylon Today, 2 Jan 2013

Sir Patrick Moore (1923 -2012): Our Travel Guide to the Universe

Tribute published in Ceylon Today newspaper on 13 Dec 2012:

Sir Patrick Moore (1923 -2012): A colourful journey fuelled by enthusiasm

Sir Patrick Moore (1923 -2012): A colourful journey fuelled by enthusiasm

The first ever book on astronomy I owned as a kid, a pocket guide to the night sky, was written by an Englishman named Patrick Moore.

Armed with the tattered book, I joined night sky observation sessions of the Young Astronomers’ Association, formed in the mid 1980s.

Hormones-on-legs that we all were at the time, we were interested in ‘heavenly bodies’ at both ends of the telescope. But we couldn’t have had a better guide to the celestial wonders than the erudite yet eminently accessible Patrick Moore.

Indeed, Sir Patrick Moore, who died on December 9 aged 89, was the world’s best known public astronomer for nearly half a century.

Although he wrote over 70 books on astronomy and space, it was his television work that made him such a household name. He hosted a monthly TV show, called The Sky at Night, demystifying the night sky and space travel for ordinary people.

The show started on BBC Television in April 1957 – six months before the Space Age dawned. For 55 years, the low-budget show has chronicled highs and lows of the entire the Space Age and brought the wonders of the night sky into the living rooms of millions.

Sir Patrick presented it for 55 and six months, doing a total of 720 episodes. He missed it just once, in July 2004, when he was hospitalized for a few days with food poisoning.

The show has earned a place in the Guinness Book of World Records as the longest-running programme with the same presenter in TV history. It’s unlikely to be broken.

He was essentially an amateur astronomer, albeit a serious and passionate one. He did some original mapping of the Moon’s surface in his younger days (used later by the both American and Russian space programmes), and headed a planetarium in Northern Ireland for a while in the 1960s, but he was largely self taught in the subject, and did mostly optical observations with his own telescopes.

BBC Sky at Night - a long innings
Public Imagination

Sir Patrick’s practical knowledge of astronomical observations and his brand of humour – together with his lovable eccentricity — made the TV show interesting to people from all walks of life while also those engaging seriously pursuing amateur astronomy.

But Sir Patrick insisted that it was the subject, not his style. When the show reached 50 years and over 650 episodes in early 2007, Sir Patrick explained its enduring appeal: “Astronomy’s a fascinating subject. You look up… you can’t help getting interested and it’s there. We’ve tried to bring it to the people…it’s not me, it’s the appeal of the subject.”

Over the years, the show has had some stellar guests. It included famous astronomers like Fred Hoyle, Carl Sagan, Bernard Lovell and Martin Rees, rocket builder Wernher von Braun, and Moon landing astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin.

Sir Patrick was centrally involved in the BBC’s coverage of the Moon Landings in the late 1960s and early 1970s. He is remembered as an excellent interviewer who brought out the best in his guests. It was mind-stimulating TV that was entertaining but not dumbed down.

One repeat guest was his long-standing friend Sir Arthur C Clarke, whom he first met through the British Interplanetary Society in the 1940s. They were both ‘space cadets’ when few people took space travel seriously.

In a tribute to the world’s most enduring astronomy show, Sir Arthur said in 2007: “Sky at Night has not been just a gee-whiz show of rockets, satellites and other expensive toys deployed by rich nations trying to outsmart each other. At its most basic, it’s a show about exploring that great laboratory within easy access to anyone, anywhere on the planet: the night sky.”

He added: “By the time the Space Age dawned, Patrick was well on his way to becoming the best known public astronomer in the world. The Sky at Night only consolidated a reputation that was well earned through endless nights of star-gazing, and many hours of relentlessly typing an astonishing volume of books, papers and popular science articles.”

In the 50th anniversary programme, broadcast in April 2007, Sir Patrick travelled back in time to see their first recording. He talked to his earlier self about astronomy back in 1957, and discussed how things have changed in half a century.

He then time travelled to 2057 where the ‘virtual’ Patrick, saved in the BBC computer, is celebrating 100 years of making The Sky at Night and talked to Dr Brian May about the discovery of life on Mars.

That same month, the International Astronomical Union (IAU) — the professional body that has sole authority to name celestial bodies –designated an asteroid as “57424 Caelumnoctu” in honour of the show. The number refers to the first broadcast date, and the name is Latin for “The Sky at Night”.

Earlier, the IAU had named asteroid No 2602 as “Moore” in his honour.

In 2001, the year he was knighted by the Queen for “services to the popularisation of science and to broadcasting”, he became the only amateur astronomer ever to be inducted as an honorary Fellow of the Royal Society. He also received a BAFTA Award (the British Oscar) for his broadcasting accomplishments.

Many of the world’s leading professional astronomers have acknowledged being inspired by Patrick Moore’s books and TV shows.

That includes the UK’s Astronomer Royal, Sir Martin Rees, FRS, who said in 2005: “I’m one of multitudes who owe their enthusiasm for astronomy to Patrick Moore. As a schoolboy I viewed, on the flickering screen of our family’s newly acquired black and white TV, his commentaries on the first Sputnik. I was transfixed…”

Sir Patrick’s influence extended well beyond the western world. Tributes have come in from everywhere.

Dr Nalin Samarasinha, Senior Scientist at the Planetary Science Institute in Tucson, Arizona, USA – and one of the very few Lankans to have an asteroid named after himself — said: “Certainly, I read some of his early books in the mid 1970s when I was an A/L student at Nalanda College, Colombo. They could be classified as an inspiration as well as a source of knowledge. This was in the era when there was no Internet and one needed to read books to learn about the field!”

Thilina Heenatigala, Project Coordinator of Astronomers Without Borders (AWB) that popularises astronomy, said: “He was a true ambassador of astronomy, bringing the Universe to the public. His work inspired me both as a kid and as an adult.”

Countering Pseudoscience

Sir Patrick used his show also to counter pseudoscience beliefs such as the popular association of unidentified flying objects (UFOs) with alien beings. He sometimes investigated what he called ‘Flying Saucerers’ – people who were genuinely confused by natural or man-made objects in the sky that were unfamiliar and, therefore, presumed mysterious.

He showed how UFOs had nothing to do with alien creatures. Yet he believed in the prospects of life elsewhere in the universe.

He was once asked what he might say if a real Flying Saucer landed on his front lawn, and a little green man emerged. His reply: “I know exactly what I would say: ‘Good afternoon. Tea or coffee? Then do please come with me to the nearest television studio…’”.

He noted in his 2003 autobiography: “There is nothing I would like better than to interview a Martian, a Venusian or even a Saturnian, but somehow I don’t think that it is likely to happen.”

If that particular wish didn’t come to pass, Sir Patrick couldn’t complain. On and off the screen, he met an extraordinary array of famous Earthlings. Among them were Orville Wright, the very first man to fly a heavier-than-air machine, Albert Einstein (whose violin playing he accompanied on the piano), and Yuri Gagarin and Valentina Tereshkova, respectively the first man and women to travel to space.

Once, when Tereshkova was visiting London, Sir Patrick chaired a major meeting in the Festival Hall. A tough journalist asked her: “What qualities would you look for in a man going to the Moon?” The cosmonaut, who spoke good English, answered with a charming smile: “Do you mean if I was going too?”

A younger Patrick Moore presenting BBC Sky at Night show around 1960

A younger Patrick Moore presenting BBC Sky at Night show around 1960

Terrestrial Pursuits

As an active astronomer, TV host and public speaker, Sir Patrick travelled the world for over half a century, visiting all seven continents including Antarctica. He was especially fond of chasing total eclipses of the sun, one of the most spectacular events in Nature.

When not star gazing, he pursued many other interests. He freely admitted to being unathletic and uncoordinated, but was an avid cricketer, turning up for his home town Selsey’s Cricket Club well into his seventies.

Once, when asked on TV about his definition of Hell, he replied: “Bowling to a left-hander, on a dead wicket, with a Pakistani umpire.”

He also played the piano and xylophone until arthritis ruled it out. He never married because his fiancée was killed by a bomb during World War II, and lived in a rural house with his pet cats. He was fond of making home-made wine, for which he said “you can use almost anything, within reason” as raw material. Rose petal was his favourite.

Thank you, Sir Patrick, for being our genial guide to the night sky and space travel for over half a century.

Happy cosmic journeys!

Sir Patrick Moore tribute by Nalaka Gunawardene, Ceylon Today, 13 Dec 2012

Sir Patrick Moore tribute by Nalaka Gunawardene, Ceylon Today, 13 Dec 2012

සිවුමංසල කොලූගැටයා #66: රේඩියෝවෙන් ‘අපේකරණය’ කළ ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩාව

Four years ago, I wrote in a book review: “Here we have, straight from the original source, the story of how cricket became the de facto national past-time, if not our national addiction or religion! Like it or hate it, cricket is an integral part of our popular culture. Radio (and later TV) cricket commentaries take much of the credit (or blame, in some people’s view) for building up this uncommon fervour that occasionally unites our otherwise utterly and bitterly divided nation.”

In this week’s Ravaya column (in Sinhala), I dip into broadcasting history of Ceylon/Sri Lanka to find out more about the origins of live cricket commentaries in Sinhala. A principal source is the book I reviewed in 2008 soon after it came out: Palitha Perera Samaga Sajeeva Lesin (Live with Palitha Perera).

I refer to the pioneers of Sinhala cricket broadcasting over radio: Karunaratne Abeysekera and Palitha Perera. The duo drew guidance from their seniors like D M Colombage and H M Gunasekera.

Palitha Perera, who did the first ball-by-ball cricket commentary in Sinhala in March 1963, is still engaged in this enthralling practice nearly half a century later. He is now one of the three seniormost cricket commentators in the world with the longest track record.

L to R – H M Gunasekera, Palitha Perera, Karunaratne Abeysekera

කෘතහස්ත නිවේදක, මාධ්‍යවේදී හා මාධ්‍ය පරිපාලක එච්. එම්. ගුණසේකර සූරීන් අප අතරින් වියෝ වී දස වසක් පිරෙන්නේ මැයි 11 වනදාටයි. රේඩියෝ හා ටෙලිවිෂන් මාධ්‍ය දෙකෙහි ම හපන්කම් කළ ඔහු, අපට ගැලපෙන විද්යුත් මාධ්‍ය කලාවක් බිහි කරන්නට විශාල මෙහෙවරක් ඉටු කළා. ඔහු ගැන ගුණ සැමරුමක් වෙනුවට ඔහුත් යම් තරමකට සම්බන්ධ වූ මෙරට විද්යුත් මාධ්‍ය කලාවේ ජයග‍්‍රහණයක් ගැන අද මා විග‍්‍රහ කරනවා. ඒ ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩාව දේශීයකරණය හෙවත් අපේකරණය කරන්නට රේඩියෝ හා ටෙලිවිෂන් මාධ්‍ය මුල් වූ කථාවයි.

ජාති, ආගම්, කුල, දේශපාලන පක්‍ෂ හා වෙනත් සාධක නිසා දැඩි ලෙස භේද වූ අපේ රටේ සියළු දෙනා එක්සත් කරන දුර්ලභ පොදු සාධකයක් නම් ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩාවයි. එංගලන්තයේ බිහි වී, බි‍්‍රතාන්‍ය යටත් විජිත පාලකයන් විසින් මෙරටට හදුන්වා දෙනු ලැබ, දශක ගණනාවක් අපේ ඉහළ පැළැන්තියේ අයට සීමා වී තිබූ කි‍්‍රකට්, මුළු රටම ආදරයෙන් වැළඳ ගත්තේ කෙලෙස ද? අපේ දේශීයත්වයට සමීප තවත් ක‍්‍රීඩා තිබුණත් ඒ සියල්ල අභිබවා බාල-මහලූ-නාගරික-ගැමි-දුප්පත්-පොහොසත් හැම දෙනකු ම අතර වඩාත් ජනප‍්‍රිය ක‍්‍රීඩාව හා ජනප‍්‍රිය සංස්කෘතියේ ප‍්‍රබල අංගයක් බවට ක‍්‍රිකට් පත් වූයේ කෙසේ ද?

එය අහම්බෙන් සිදු වූවක් නොවෙයි. නිල බලයෙන් දියත් කළ මහ ව්‍යාපෘතියක් ද නොවෙයි. එයට බොහෝ කොට ම හේතු වූයේ රේඩියෝ මාධ්‍යය හරහා සිංහලෙන් ක‍්‍රිකට් විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයයි. මේ සංස්කෘතික විප්ලවයේ අක්මුල් ගැන මා විපරම් කළා.

සිංහලෙන් ක‍්‍රිකට් තරග පිළිබඳ සාරාංශයන් රේඩියෝවෙන් ඉදිරිපත් කිරීම 1960දී ඇරඹුවේ නිවේදක කරුණාරත්න අබේසේකර විසින්. ඉරිදා දිනවල පස්වරු 5 සිට 6 දක්වා ඔහු ඉදිරිපත් කළ ‘සරස්වතී මණ්ඩපය’ වැඩසටහනෙන් ආනන්ද-නාලන්දා වාර්ෂික ක‍්‍රිකට් තරගයේ අවසන් දිනයේ අන්තිම පැය ආවරණය කළා.

ඔහු එසේ විවර කර දුන් මගෙහි ඉදිරියට ගිය ඊළග පුරෝගාමියා වූයේ 1961-62 වසරවල නාලන්දා පිළට ක‍්‍රීඩා කළ පාලිත පෙරේරායි. 1963 ජනවාරියේ ගුවන් විදුලි සේවයට බැදුණු ඔහු, ඒ වසරේ මාර්තුවේ ආනන්ද-නාලන්දා සමස්ත ක‍්‍රිකට් තරගය ම සජීව රේඩියෝ විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයක් කිරීමට යෝජනා කළා. එයට අවසර දුන්නේ එවකට සිංහල අංශයේ කථා සම්පාදක වූ එච්. එම්. ගුණසේකරයි.

පාලිත නාලන්දාවේ ආදි ශිෂ්‍යයකු වූ නිසා (සමබරතාව රැක ගනු පිණිස) ඔහුගේ සහයට කෙනකු ආනන්දයෙන් සොයා ගන්නා ලෙසත් එච්. එම්. පාලිතට කීවා. ඒ අනුව පාලිත පෙරේරාත් ආනන්දයේ එවකට විද්‍යා ගුරුවරයකු වූ රඝුනාත් වීරසූරියත් 1963 මාර්තු පැවති 34 වැනි ආනන්ද නාලන්දා ක‍්‍රිකට් තරගයෙන්. ක‍්‍රිකට් තරගයේ මුල් ඕවරයේ සිට අන්තිම ඕවරය දක්වා සමස්ත ක‍්‍රීඩා තරගය ම සජීව ලෙසින් සිංහලෙන් විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරය කළා.

කොළඹ බොරැල්ලේ, වනාතමුල්ලේ පිහිටි ඕවල් ක‍්‍රීඩාංගනයේ (දැන් පී. සරවනමුත්තු ක‍්‍රීඩාංගනය) පැවති මේ තරගයේ විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරය කිරීමේදී තාක්‍ෂණික මෙන් ම භාෂාමය අභියෝගවලට මුහුණ දුන් සැටි පාලිත ලියා තිබෙනවා. මේ ඉතිහාසය අද බොහෝ දෙනා දන්නේ නැති බවත්, දැන ගත්ත ද වැරදි අර්ථකථන නිසා ඒ දැනුම විකෘති වී ඇති බවත් පාලිත කියනවා.

කරුණාරත්න අබේසේකර 1960දී සංක්ෂිප්ත විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර සිංහලෙන් අරඹන විට ඒ සඳහා ඔහුගේ රේඩියෝ ගුරුවරයා වූ ඞී. එම්. කොළඹගේ සූරීන්ගේ උපදෙස් ලද බව කරුගේ පුතු දිලීප අබේසේකර කියනවා. එල්ලේ ක‍්‍රීඩාවේ හමුවන පිත්ත, පන්දුව, කඩුල්ල වැනි වචන එලෙසින් ම ක‍්‍රිකට් සඳහා ද යොදා ගත් අතර වෙනත් යෙදුම් අවශ්‍යතාවයේ හැටියට සැනෙකින් සකසා ගනු ලැබුවා.

Live with Palitha Perera

Live with Palitha Perera

“පාලිත පෙරේරා සමග සජීව ලෙසින්” නමින් පාලිත 2008දී ලියූ පොතෙහි ඇති ආවර්ජනය තරමක් වෙනස්. සිය රේඩියෝ ජීවිතයේ මුල්ගුරු ලෙස ගෞරවපූර්වකව සළකන්නේ කරුණාරත්න අබේසේකරයන් බව හෘදයංගම ලෙස සඳහන් කරමින් පාලිත කියන්නේ සිංහලෙන් ක‍්‍රිකට් සන්නිවේදනයට අවශ්‍ය වූ වචන කෝෂය හා යෙදුම් වැඩිපුර ම නිර්මාණය වූයේ තමන් අතින් බවයි. එහෙත් භාෂා හා මාධ්‍ය ක්‍ෂෙත‍්‍ර දෙකේ දැවැන්තයන්ගේ උරහිස සිට වැඩි දුරක් දැකීමට හැකි වූ බව පාලිත නිහතමානීව පිලි ගන්නවා.

මුල් වසර කිහිපයේ පාලිත උපයෝගී කර ගත්තේ ක‍්‍රිකට් මූලධර්ම හා දර්ශනයට අනුකූල වූත්, සිංහල ශ‍්‍රාවකයන්ගේ දෙසවනට ගෝචර වූත් වචන හා යෙදුම් මාලාවක්. විජාතික ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩාව අපේකරණයට මෙසේ උචිත වදන් පෙළක් බිහිකර ගැනීම තීරණාත්මක වූවා.

එහෙත් සිංහල පණ්ඩිතයන්ට මේ තරුණ නිවේදකයාගේ නව්‍යකරණය නොසෑහෙන්නට ඇති. ඒ නිසාදෝ ලංකා ගුවන්විදුලියේ (Radio Ceylon) අධ්‍යක්‍ෂ පාලිතට කියා සිටියා රාජ්‍ය භාෂා දෙපාර්තමේන්තුවෙන් සකසන ලද පාරිභාෂික ක‍්‍රිකට් වචන ලැයිස්තුවක් භාවිත කරන ලෙස. මේ අනුව පාලිත ඊළග ආනන්ද-නාලන්දා තරගයේදී මේ වචන යොදා විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරය ඇරඹුවා.

ඒ යුගයේ ඕවල් ක‍්‍රීඩාංගනයේ වටේ ඇති මණ්ඩපවල කණුවල ලවුඞ්ස්පීකර් සවි කර විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර එවේලේ ම එතැන සිටි සැමට සවන්දීමේ අවස්ථාව ලබා දී තිබුණා. Slips ක‍්‍රීඩකයන්ට සිංහල පණ්ඩිතයන් දී තිබූ යෙදුම “ලූහුට්ටා”. මේ අනුව පාලිතට කියන්නට සිදු වූයේ මෙවැනි විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයක්: “වැට රකින්නා ළගින් ම ලූහුට්ටන් පේලියක් ඉන්නවා. පළමුවැනි ලූහුට්ටා, දෙවැනි ලූහුට්ටා, තුන්වැනි ලූහුට්ටා….. දැන් මෙන්න ලූහුට්ටන් අතරින් පන්දුව ලූහුටලා හතරේ සීමාවට යනවා…!”

ටික වේලාවකින් කාර්මික නිලධාරී එඞ්මන්ඞ් තිලකරත්න පැමිණ පාලිතට මෙහෙම කිව්වා: “පාලිත මොනවද ඔය කියවන්නේ? අර පැවිලියන් එකේ ඉන්න මිනිස්සු එක දිගට හූ කියනවා ඕක අහලා!”

සජීව ප‍්‍රචරයේ රැදී සිටින අතර ගුවන්විදුලි අධිකාරීන්ට දන්වා උපදෙස් ගන්නැයි පාලිත ඔහුට කීවා. පාරිභාෂික වචන ලැයිස්තුව වහා නතර කිරීමට අනුමැතිය ලැබුණා. එදා මේ රටේ කි‍්‍රකට් ලෝලීන් හූ කිව්වේ පාලිතට නොවේ, අයෝග්‍ය වදන් පෙළක් බලෙන් සිංහල ශ‍්‍රාවකයන් මත පටවන්නට තැනූ සිංහල බක පණ්ඩිතයන්ටයි!

ඉනික්බිති සිදු වූ දෙය යළිත් පාලිතගේ ම වචනවලින්: “එහෙත් වැරැදීම් හා ප‍්‍රයර්ථන මගින් මා විසින් ම සකසා ගන්නා ලද ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩා විස්තර ප‍්‍රකාශයට ඇවැසි පාරිභාෂික වචන කෝෂය හා විස්තර යෙදුම් දිගට ම භාවිතයට ගත්තෙමි. හැත්තෑවේ දශකය පටන් ගන්නා විට එය රට ම පිළිගන්නා තරමට රටේ ව්‍යාප්ත වී තිබුණි. ඔප මට්ටම් කොට සාදා නිමවා තිබූ මෙම වචන කෝෂය ඊට පසු ආ මාධ්‍ය පරිහරනය කරන්නන් විසින් ලෙහෙසියෙන් ම භාවිතයට ගනු ලැබිණ.”

‘නොඉඳුල් ඕවරය’ යන්න කරු යෝජිත සිංහල වචනයක් වන අතර, ‘තණතිල්ල’ හා ‘නිලකුණු ඕවරය’ මහාචාර්ය විනී විතාරණ සූරින්ගේ නිමැවුම් බව පාලිත කියනවා. “දැවී යාම හදපු හැටි මටවත් මතක නැහැ. නමුත් දැන් එය ඉතා සමීප ලෙසින් සමාජගත වෙලා”, පාලිත මෑතදී මා සමග කීවා.

“අද ගුවන්විදුලිය, රූපවාහිනිය, පුවත්පත යන සියළු මාධ්‍යයන් ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩාව අරභයා භාවිතා කරන ක‍්‍රිකට් වචන කෝසයේ 95%ක නිර්මාණකරු මම වෙමි. මේ රටේ ක‍්‍රිකට් සිංහල සන්නිවේදන සාහිත්‍යයක් බිහි වීම සඳහා මගෙන් කෙරුණු මේ දායාදය පිළිබඳව කවුරුත් හෝ පිළිගැනිමක් හෝ සඳහනක් හෝ නොදැක්වීම කණගාටුවට කරුණකි,” යයි පාලිත සිය පොතේ ලියා තිබෙනවා (182-3 පිටු).

1963 මුල් ම සජීව සිංහල ක‍්‍රිකට් විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයට යොදාගත් විස්තර විචාරක අට්ටාලය ගැනත් කථාවක් තිබෙනවා. ලංකා ගුවන්විදුලියට එවකට තිබූ එක ම ඇලූමීනියම් අට්ටාලය (gentry) ඉංග‍්‍රීසි විස්තර ප‍්‍රකාශකයන් දෙදෙනාට වෙන් වුණා. එක අට්ටාලයේ සිට එකවර භාෂා දෙකකින් රේඩියෝ ප‍්‍රචාරයක් කළ නොහැකි නිසා අඹ ලී භාවිත කරමින් අඩි 5ක් පමණ උස කුඩා වේදිකාවක් තනා එය සිංහල විස්තර ප‍්‍රකාශකයන්ට දුන්නා. ඒ මත වරකට එක් අයෙකුට පමණක් පුටුවක් තබා හිඳ ගැනීමට ඉඩ තිබුණු අතර, හිසට උඩින් කිසිදු ආවරණයක් තිබී නැහැ.

Cricket in Sri Lanka – More than a game

මුල් විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර සිංහලෙන් කළේ එක් අතකින් මයික‍්‍රෆෝනයත් අනෙක් අතින් කුඩයකුත් අල්ලා ගෙනයි! වසර කිහිපයක් සිංහල විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරකයන් මේ තාවකාලික වේදිකාවට සීමා වූ අතර ඔවුන්ට ඇලූමීනියම් අට්ටාලය හිමි වූයේ 1968දී පමණ. ඒ වන විට සිංහල විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර වඩාත් ජනප‍්‍රිය වී තිබුණා.

1963න් ඇරඹි පන්දුවෙන් පන්දුවට කරන සජිව ක‍්‍රීකට් විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර ඉන් පසු සෑම වසරක ම ප‍්‍රධාන පාසල් ක‍්‍රිකට් තරග සඳහාත්, විටින් විට විදේශ ක‍්‍රිකට් කණ්ඩායම් මෙරටදී ශ‍්‍රි ලංකා පිල සමග තරග කරන විටදීත් ලබා දීමට පාලිත මුල් වුණා. ඒ සඳහා සහාය විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරකයන් ලෙස තිලක සුදර්මන්ද සිල්වා, අමරබන්දු රූපසිංහ, මයිකල් කරුණාතිලක හා සිරිසෝම ජයසිංහ ආදීන් ද හවුල් කර ගත්තා.

1970 වන විට ඉංග‍්‍රීසි විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර අභිබවා සිංහල විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර බෙහෙවින් ජනප‍්‍රිය වුණා. 1971 කැරැුල්ලෙන් පසු රාජකීය-සාන්ත තෝමස් කි‍්‍රකට් තරගයට ද සිංහල විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයක් අවශ්‍ය වුණා. මේ අනුව 1972දී එම තරගයේ විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයට පෙමසර ඈපාසිංහ ද හවුල් කර ගත්තේ පාලිත විසින්. සුප‍්‍රකට ‘පාලිත-ඈපා සුසංයෝගය’ ඇරඹුණේ තැන් සිටයි.

ක‍්‍රිකට් ගමට ගොස් එය මුළු රටේ ජනප‍්‍රියවීමට තීරණාත්මක ලෙස හේතු වූයේ කරු හා පාලිත අරඹා, පසුව ඈපා ද සමග පෙරට ගෙන ගිය සුමට හා හුරුබුහුටි ශෛලිය බවට විවාදයක් නැහැ. අද ක‍්‍රිකට් ක්ෂේත‍්‍රයේ වැජඹෙන සැවොම පාලිත හා ඈපා උගුරේ කෙළ ලේ රහ මතු වන තුරු කළ උදයෝගශීලී විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරයන්ට ණය ගැතියි!

ශ‍්‍රි ලංකාව ටෙස්ට් ක‍්‍රිකට් වරම් ලබා 1982 පෙබරවාරියේ කොළඹ දී එංගලන්ත පිළට එරෙහිව කළ මංගල ටෙස්ට් තරගය එවකට අලූත් රූපවාහිනී සංස්ථාව හරහා මෙරට පේ‍්‍රකෂකයන්ට ගෙන ඒමේදී ප‍්‍රධාන විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරකයා වුයේත් පාලිත පෙරේරායි. පාලිත-ඈපා සුසංයෝගය එසේ රේඩියෝවෙන් ටෙලිවිෂනයට ද සංක‍්‍රමණය වුණා.

මාධ්‍යය ක්ෂේත‍්‍රයේ ඇතැම් නොකටයුතුකම්වලට එරෙහිව දැඩි ප‍්‍රතිපත්තිමය ස්ථාවරයක සිටීම නිසා විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරවලින් පාලිත ඉවත් කළ අවස්ථා ද තිබෙනවා. ක‍්‍රීඩාගාරයක් අසලටවත් නොගොස්, තරගයක ටෙලිවිෂන් විකාශයක් බලමින් එය රේඩියෝවෙන් විස්තර කථනය කිරිම ඔහු එසේ ප‍්‍රතික්ෂේප කළ එක් අහිතකර ප‍්‍රවණතාවක්. එහෙත් ඇතැම් රේඩියෝ විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාර දැන් සිදු වන්නේ මේ අයුරින්.

ඇතැම් වැරදි සහගත සිංහල යෙදුම් ක‍්‍රිකට් වචන කෝෂයට කොහේදෝ සිට එක් වී දැන් මුල බැස ගෙන තිබෙනවා. හොඳ උදාහරණයක් නම් ‘තුන් ඉරියව්ව’යි. ඉංග‍්‍රිසියෙන් all-rounder යන්නට නිවැරදි සිංහල යෙදුම ‘සියලූ අංශවල දස්කම් පාන්නා’ වුවත් වැරදි යෙදුම තවමත් පුළුල්ව භාවිත වනවා.

ක‍්‍රිකට් අපේකරණයට දායක වූ පුරෝගාමී මාධ්‍ය චරිත ගැන මීට වඩා දැනුවත්කමක්, කෘතඥපූර්වක බවක් තිබිය යුතුයි. අද දැවැන්ත ව්‍යාපාරික මට්ටමට පත්ව ඇති ලාංකික ක‍්‍රිකට් ක‍්‍රීඩාව එතැනට ආවේ ක‍්‍රීඩකයන්, පුහුණුකරුවන් හා ක‍්‍රීඩා ලෝලීන්ගේ උනන්දුව හා කැපවීම මෙන් ම ක‍්‍රිකට් විස්තර ප‍්‍රචාරකයන්ගේ උද්‍යොගය හා දායකත්වය නිසා ද බව කිව යුතුයි.

See also:

Palitha Perera: The man who refused to be His Master’s Voice

The Island, 8 Oct 2009: Palitha Perera: ‘Singhalising’ Colonial Cricket

Can cricket unite a divided Sri Lanka? Answer is in the air…will it be caught?

Boys playing cricket on tsunami hit beach in eastern Sri Lanka, January 2005 (photo by Video Image)


Two boys playing cricket on a beach, with a makeshift bat and wicket. What could be more ordinary than this in cricket-crazy Sri Lanka, where every street, backyard or bare land can host an impromptu game?

But the time and place of this photo made it anything but ordinary. This was somewhere along Sri Lanka’s east coast, one day in mid January 2005. Just a couple of weeks after the Indian Ocean tsunami had delivered a deadly blow to this part of the island on 26 December 2004.

My colleagues were looking for a survivor family whose story we could document for the next one year as part of the Children of Tsunami media project that we had just conceived. On their travels, they came across these two boys whose family was hit hard by the tsunami: they lost a sibling and their house was destroyed.

They were living in a temporary shelter, still recovering from the biggest shock of their short lives. But evidently not too numbed to play a small game of cricket. Perhaps it was part of their own way of coping and healing.

More than six years and many thousand images later, I still remember this photo for the quiet defiance and resilience it captured. Maybe that moment in time for two young boys on a devastated beach is symbolic of the 20 million plus men, women and children living in post-war Sri Lanka today.

We are playing cricket, or cheering cricket passionately and wildly even as we try to put a quarter century of war, destruction and inhumanity behind us. And at least on the cricket front, we’re doing darn well: the Sri Lanka national team beat New Zealand on March 29 to qualify for the ICC Cricket World Cup finals on April 3 in Mumbai.

We’ve been here once before – in March 1996 – and won the World Cup against many odds. Can we repeat or improve that performance? We’ll soon know.

Of course, rebuilding the war-ravaged areas and healing the deep-running wounds of war is going to be much harder than playing the ball game.

My friends at Groundviews is conducting an interesting informal poll: World Cup cricket aiding reconciliation in Sri Lanka: Fact or fiction?

A few days ago, Captain of Lankan cricket team Kumar Sangakkara described post-war northern Sri Lanka as a scene of devastation after paying his first visit to the region. People of the north have been deprived for 30 years of everything that is taken for granted in Colombo, he told the media.

He toured the north with team mate and wiz bowler Muttiah Muralitharan, who is patron of the Foundation of Goodness. The charity, itself a response to the 2004 tsunami, “aims to narrow the gap between urban and rural life in Sri Lanka by tackling poverty through productive activities”.

Earlier this month, Lankan novelist Shehan Karunatilaka wrote a highly moving essay in the London Observer titled ‘How cricket saved Sri Lanka’. The blurb read: “As co-host of the current World Cup, Sri Lankans are relishing their moment on the sport’s biggest stage. And no wonder. For them, cricket is much more than a game. After years of civil war, the tsunami and floods, it’s still the only thing holding their chaotic country together.”

In that essay, which is well worth a read, he noted: “Many of us believe in the myth of sport; some more than others. Clint Eastwood and Hollywood have turned the 1995 Rugby World Cup into a sport-conquers-apartheid fantasy in Invictus. CLR James believed cricket to be the catalyst for West Indian nationalism. A drunk in a Colombo cricket bar once told me that Rocky IV had hastened the fall of the Soviet Empire.”

He added: “Let’s abandon the myths for now. Sport cannot change a world. But it can excite it. It can galvanise a nation into believing in itself. It can also set a nation up for heartbreak.”

Cricket has indeed excited the 20 million Lankans from all walks of life, and across the various social, economic and cultural divides. It has rubbed off on even a cricket-skeptic like myself.

We will soon know whether the Cricket World Cup will be ours again. Whatever happens at the Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai on April 2, we have a long way to go on the road to recovery and reconciliation.

Colombo, 29 March 2011: When Sri Lanka beat New Zealand to qualify for Cricket World Cup 2011 Finals

Wiz Quiz 6: Cricket World Cup special – What’s your score?

1,100 million fools following 11 flannelled fools...for six weeks!

“Eleven flannelled fools chasing a red ball, with eleven thousand fools cheering them.”

That’s how Irishman George Barnard Shaw described the very English game of cricket.

A few decades later, he might well have said 1,100 million fools cheering. Probably that many people will watch or otherwise follow the The ICC Cricket World Cup 2011, currently underway in the world’s most ardent cricketing region: South Asia!

In terms of television audiences and media-linked sponsorship money, the ICC Cricket World Cup is the world’s third largest sporting event: only the FIFA Football World Cup and the Summer Olympics are bigger than this event.

Not everyone is equally enthusiastic about cricket. Those in non-playing countries must wonder just what the cricket frenzy is all about. But frenzy time it is, right now, in much of South Asia. The ICC Cricket World Cup 2011 started on 19 February 2011, and will continue until 2 April 2011.

What's your score, mate?

This is the world’s leading men’s one day international (ODI) cricket tournament, organized by the sport’s governing body, the International Cricket Council (ICC). National teams of 14 countries are participating in this tournament, being hosted jointly by Bangladesh, India and Sri Lanka.

To mark the ICC Cricket World Cup 2011, Wiz Quiz in Daily News this week was a cricket special, where we probed our readers’ knowledge of World Cup history, as well as the wider subculture of cricket.

I’m not a cricket fan myself, but living in South Asia, it is impossible to avoid catching at least bits and pieces of cricket fever. But cricket is not just a game of players and matches, but a whole cultural and social phenomenon, especially in South Asia. If the English invented cricket, the one-time British colonies have vastly globalised it.

So try your wider cricketing knowledge with this week’s quiz…and see what your score is!

Wiz Quiz 6: Cricket World Cup is here! (scroll down the page to get to the quiz)

Mama Mia! Italy is really a part of South Asia!!

At Fontana Di Trevi: Guess which tourist escaped from a formal meeting?

At Fontana Di Trevi: Guess which tourist escaped from a formal meeting?

I’ve just spent a week in Rome, and felt entirely at home enjoying the hot and humid summer days and clear blue skies. The latest experience has reaffirmed my impression – formed on several visits over two decades – that Italy isn’t a part of Europe at all. It’s really an extension of South Asia.

Hanuman, the super-monkey who features prominently in the Indian epic Ramayana, is said to have carried whole chunks of the Himalayas and dropping them off in far away places. Perhaps, unknown to the chroniclers, Hanuman did some freelance transplanting in the Mediterranean.

The similarities are uncanny: Italians and South Asians have too much in common. Generalisations are dangerous, I know, but then, I’m a South Asian – we do it all the time (and get it right about half the time). So here goes…

For a start, we are both expressive people, and we have no compunction in being loud in public places. Understatement is for the polite (and dull) British; we prefer to exclaim and exaggerate. We also gesticulate wildly when we speak – there is probably an extra nerve linking our mouth with our arms.

We are opinionated and argumentative, often passionately (and needlessly) so. We can rarely agree on any matters of private or public interest, yet, almost miraculously, we manage to get by without coming to blows. Well, at least most of the time…

Heirs to rich and diverse culinary traditions, we South Asians love and cherish our food – as do the Italians. We have our rice, chapatti and roti. They have their infinite array of pastas, pizzas and lasagnas. Our youngsters may fancy an occasional hamburger, but no American fast food can ever compete with our myriad aromas and flavours perfected literally over millennia. We take pride and joy in our food, and break bread with family, friends and strangers. Given a chance, we’ll spend half our waking hours eating.

Blending old and new with ease: average Roman doesn't the burden of history

Blending old and new with ease: average Roman doesn't the burden of history

Next to food, we have an abundance of laws, rules and regulations – too many, if you ask me. But we take our laws with a pinch of salt, or more. We happily and frequently bend them that they sometimes actually snap. Then we’d say Mama Mia or Aiyo, and just move on.

Just look at the roads, and Italy’s similarity with South Asia is immediately clear. No other western European country comes close to Italy for the sheer chaos factor. We all drive as much with our horns as with the accelerators. We curse and yell at others on the road. Our streets are crowded, noisy and messy. We ignore traffic lights, speed limits and zebra crossings. Cyclists and pedestrians move at their peril.

This completely stuns the more orderly nationals like the Japanese and Swiss, who are puzzled how we don’t have more accidents on our roads (it puzzles us too). Partly because we all try to drive like James Bond, but more because too many of us are using privately owned two, three or four wheel vehicles, we often end up going nowhere at all. Some of our big cities now have traffic almost 24/7. Ancient Romans would be impressed by how much time we spend on our roads, an invention they perfected.

Dreary babudom failed to dampen her spirit

Dreary babudom failed to dampen her spirit

It’s not just Fiats, Ferraris and Marutis that move ever so slowly as we march towards progress. If anything, the wheels of our governments are even slower. In Under the Tuscan Sun, Frances Mayes chronicles her frustrations with the local bureaucracy when she bought and renovated an abandoned villa in the Tuscany Valley. Any South Asian who has tried to engage their own governments – on property, taxes or anything else – can well and truly empathise with her experience. In these days of global warming, glaciers probably move (recede) faster than our bureaucracies.

No wonder, then, that we just love to hate our governments in Italy and South Asia – we never tire of complaining about our politicians and bureaucrats. Strangely, however, we do little to overhaul the sick system. We often put up with our bungling, lying and sometimes stealing public officials. Worse, we idolise some of the biggest offenders despite their staggering lapses or excesses, and keep re-electing them!

Ah yes, we love our elections too. Until recently, Italians used to change their governments with such regularity – it has had 62 governments in the 64 years since the Second World War ended. While no South Asian country can match this record, thank goodness, few elected governments in South Asia complete their full term. And we share with Italians a fondness for coalition governments in all their variations and vicissitudes.

Come to think of it, is there anything surprising that Italian-born Edvige Antonia Albina Maino, better known as Sonia Gandhi, is today the most powerful woman in South Asian politics? As head of both Indian National Congress and the ruling coalition, she manages a menagerie of political animals.

Our obsession with politics is amplified (and some say exploited) by our cacophonous media. Our newspapers, radio and TV titillate, enthrall and occasionally inform their audiences. Many follow their own peculiar definitions of the public interest — which includes gleefully venturing into private lives of public figures. If Italians originated the term paparazzi, the South Asian media have turned it into a fine art. Our modern pantheons include a motley collection of show biz and sporting personalities, a few of who fall from grace frequently enough to keep our industrial gos mills turning day and night.

This same nosy media somehow manage to miss out or actively avoid probing the conduct of many public officials controlling very large amounts of public funds. It’s perhaps too simplistic to say corruption, cronyism and nepotism have become deep rooted in our countries. We have institutionalised these processes so much that they have become part of our political and business landscapes. The correct euphamism for these practices is public-private partnerships.

If you think all this makes us a sleazy, unethical and uncaring lot, you’re sadly mistaken. Please be informed that Italians and South Asians are both very religious. In fact, we take our faiths very seriously indeed, and practise it with such passion that some spoilsports might call us fanatical.

It doesn’t matter in the least that we worship at different altars – Italians at their soccer stadiums, and we at our cricket grounds. Our faith is equally intense and unwavering. When you make fun of our history, governments, laws and mannerisms, we’ll laugh heartily with you. But if you dare to criticise the performance of our national sporting teams, you will immediately find what fundamentalists we really are.

Every nation must have its sacred cows, no?

Palitha Perera: The man who refused to be His Master’s Voice

The Island)

Doyen of Sri Lankan cartoonists, Wijesoma, saw it all coming (courtesy: The Island)

This cartoon is more than a quarter of a century old. It was drawn by W R Wijesoma, the doyen of Sri Lankan political cartoonists, in March 1982 — barely a month after Sri Lanka’s national television broadcaster Rupavahini commenced its transmissions.

I was a school boy in my mid teens when this happened, but I remember the story behind the cartoon. It was Sri Lanka’s first executive president J R Jayewardene who inaugurated the national TV station, which was donated to Sri Lanka by the Japanese government as part of its large package of aid to the island nation. At the inauguration, JR (as everyone called him) made this lofty speech, where he expressed his hope that Rupavahini would also be a satyavahini (meaning: the picture tube should also dispense the truth).

In practice, that presidential wish never had a chance. JR was in office from 1978 to 1989, and Rupavahini’s fledgling years coincided with his second term. Despite his ideals, his own government misused the new medium from almost day one for blatant, partisan propaganda. In the event, it was my old colleague Wijesoma’s vision of a ‘party-vahini’ (a propaganda vehicle for party in office) that became our sad, stark reality. Some have also called it pacha-vahini (dispenser of lies).

I recall all this on World Television Day, 21 November, because I’ve been reading a very interesting book by a remarkable man who was associated with Rupavahini’s inauguration. His name is Palitha Perera, and he is one of the most senior and respected radio and TV broadcasters in Sri Lanka today. Among other feats, Palitha holds the distinction of having been the inaugural announcer on two Sri Lankan TV channels – Rupavahini (15 February 1982) and TNL TV (21 July 1993).

Live with Palitha Perera

Live with Palitha Perera

Palitha has recently penned his first book, titled Palitha Perera Samaga Sajeeva Lesin (Live with Palitha Perera; Surasa Books, Colombo; 2008). It’s not written in the ‘been-there, done-that’ style of self importance. True, it has a rich sprinkling of autobiographical details expressed in Palitha’s lucid, entertaining writing style. But in recalling men and matters, and his own multiple roles in shaping events, he is both modest and moderate -– hallmarks of his professional career.

As I note in a book review published today on Groundviews.org: “His reminiscences provide some unique insights into our broadcasting history for nearly half a century. He chronicles little known facts and praises unsung heroes. In doing so, he offers a ringside account of the progress — and decline — of state broadcasting in Sri Lanka from the early 1960s to the present.”

Palitha is one of the few broadcasters who successfully moved from radio to television broadcasting. Many other announcers, interviewers and producers of the radio era failed to make that leap, for the two media are different.

In fact, Palitha has been in broadcasting longer than I’ve been alive. I grew up in the 1970s listening to Palitha’s deep, clear and friendly voice. He was Sri Lanka’s pioneering cricket commentator in Sinhala and that’s how he has had the greatest impact on our culture and society.

As I say in the review: “Here we have, straight from the original source, the story of how cricket became the de facto national past-time, if not our national addiction or religion! Like it or hate it, cricket is an integral part of our popular culture. Radio (and later TV) cricket commentaries take much of the credit (or blame, in some people’s view) for building up this uncommon fervour that occasionally unites our otherwise utterly and bitterly divided nation.”

Palitha has also made his name as the country’s foremost interviewer on both radio and television. In his time, Palitha has interviewed dozens of public figures from Presidents and prime ministers to social activists and trade unionists. He is always prepared and well informed. He remains calm and friendly at all times, yet is dogged in his questioning. This style has exposed many a hypocrite and charlatan.

It was said that boxer Mohammad Ali used to ‘float like a butterfly and sting like a bee’. I would say Palitha Perera floats like a butterfly and stings like a butterfly. It never hurts his interviewee personally, but he is piercing and penetrative all the same.

Unlike many other broadcasters who have cheer-led governments prostituting the airwaves, a public property, Palitha Perera never lost sight of who his real masters were: the audience.

Read my full review on Groundviews

Eye balls and leather balls: World Cup cricket final is here!

It’s finally here: Cricket’s Big Day (or Big Night, depending on where we are on the planet).

In the Cricket World Cup final today, defending champions Australia will meet 1996 World Champions Sri Lanka. The final game is to be played at the Kensington Oval in Barbados, in the cricket playing nations of the West Indies.

As I wrote in a post when the current series started, Sir Arthur Clarke will have to look very hard today for any signs of life across Sri Lanka.

The whole nation of 20 million people will have their eyes glued to whatever television screen they can find.

They will be joined by at least a couple of billion other eye balls in the rest of South Asia, where cricket-playing nations of Banglades, India and Pakistan saw their respective teams being eliminated in the World Cup’s seven weeks of build up in the Caribbean.

Talk about moving images moving people.

Not being an ardent cricket fan, I’ve not followed the series with the religious zeal of my many friends and colleagues. But just after filing this blog post, I’m off to see the finals on a giant, open air screen.

As Reuters reported recently, cricket fever has united — at least for now — the otherwise utterly and bitterly divided Sri Lankans. I just want to be part of that moment of unity, and yes, watch some good cricket too.

Tonight’s game will use probably a handful of professional leather balls used in cricket. As cricket fans tune in to live broadcasts worldwide, it’s fair to say that never before have so many eye balls followed the movement of so few leather balls.

May the best handlers of leather balls win.

And no matter who wins, TV broadcasters will be laughing all the way to the bank…

Cricket on TV: Fatal attraction?

Productivity in South Asia can’t be all that high these days. A good part of our 1.5 billion combined population stays up late into the night, watching live TV broadcasts of cricket matches of the ICC World Cup.

Because the championship is hosted in the West Indies, time differences mean that each match would begin in the evening and continue into the early hours of our mornings.

Lots of people turn up at work with bleary eyes.

But that’s nothing compared to the many tears shed, sighs heaved and fists raised when South Asia’s cricket playing nations — Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka – lose a match.

The two cricket giants and rivals – India and Pakistan – both had shocking exits in the first round itself. This inspired much anguish, despair and anger. It also wrecked business plans of many South Asian TV networks, which had paid millions of dollars for the rights to broadcast World Cup cricket matches. Now they fear they cannot recover their investment.

Flying from Colombo to Hyderabad for an academic meeting, I read the latest (2 April 2007) issue of the Indian newsmagazine Outlook, which offered a good analysis of what went wrong for India in the World Cup. It’s one among many, many post mortems in the media.

Outlook Editor Vinod Mehta, one of India’s seniormost and outspoken journalists, writes a short piece in this issue, headlined ‘Fatal Attractions’.

In his typical style, he starts:
I told-you-so journalism can be both exasperating and juvenile. Thus, I get no pleasure in reminding you that four weeks before our determined fifteen left for the Caribbean, I had lamented: “Am I the only one turned off by Indian cricket? I’d much rather relax watching an old film than see our boys wield the willow. The occasional fluke victory is all we can hope for. The team looks pedestrian and, frequently, pathetic.

Then he gets more serious, saying we must ask ourselves if the media and the marketers are doing us a favour by injecting such hyper-nationalism ‘as they collectively raise unrealistic hopes of India’s conquests’.

He concludes:

“The martial music, the thumping of chests, the shouts of “India, India”, the painting of the national colours on faces, the patriotic exhortations of politicos suggests that the Cup is already in the bag; the winning is just a formality. When we experience not just defeat but a sound thrashing, the Indian cricket fan, who has been duped by slick promos and to some extent his own credulity, finds reality intolerable. If, instead, expectations were kept at a reasonable level we would not undergo such a tremendous feeling of being let down. We could cope with the disappointment.

“No other team in the World Cup, not even the Aussies and the Proteas, play under so much pressure, most of it induced by greedy advertisers hoping to exploit the passion for the game. I believe this exploitation has gone on long enough. The market must stop playing with the emotions of a nation. Meanwhile, we should remember we have just lost a game of cricket. We are not finished as a nation.”

Read the full commentary in Outlook Online

Arthur Clarke looking for signs of life in Colombo…

I have finally found my legitimate claim for being unique: I don’t follow cricket.

Yes, you heard me right. Despite being born and raised in Sri Lanka, and still being based there about half of my time, I have never been a great fan of cricket. I must be the only one in my office who gets a decent night’s sleep these days. Practically everyone stays up till the wee hours of the morning watching live TV broadcasts of the ICC World Cup cricket matches taking place literally on the other side of the globe: the West Indies.

There’s now a very close nexus between television and cricket. Live broadcasts beam instantly into our living rooms the action on a cricket field anywhere on the planet. In fact, thanks to the zoom-ins, slow-motion instant replays and other techniques, those who watch a cricket match on the small screen can share the action even better than the few thousand who witness it physically at the stadium. (And the screens are no longer very small: across cricket-crazy South Asia, sales have soared for plasma screens of increasingly large – if not mostrous – sizes.)

The man who made all this possible is slightly bemused — but not one bit affected — by all this frenzy. Sir Arthur C Clarke, science fiction author, futurist and inventor of the communications satellite, sits in his living room, pondering the near and far future of humanity that he helped transform into a Global Village.

That’s the only other person in the whole of Colombo that I know who isn’t infected by the current World Cup fever. (See my other post today for views of a rare Indian who doesn’t follow cricket and instead prefers to watch old movies.)

Writing a foreword to the UNDP’s Human Development Report in 2003, Sir Arthur noted: “Today, television rules how Sri Lankans work, dine and socialise. And when an important cricket match is being broadcast live, I have to look hard to find any signs of life on the streets of Colombo.”

We might opt out of following the cricket, making ourselves rather dull conversationalists these days, but if we dare to utter even a word against this de facto religion of South Asians, dire consequences are sure to follow.

A decade ago, Sir Arthur had a first hand experience to prove this. In a wide-ranging media interview, he told a visiting Reuters correspondent that he shared some people’s skepticism that cricket was the slowest form of animal life, because it takes so long. (A Test match can take as many as five full days, and still end without a clear result!).

Having mis-heard Sir Arthur, the Reuters man filed his story saying Arthur C Clarke calls cricket the `lowest form of life’.

That was enough to stir up a mini storm. It couldn’t have come at a worse time — Sri Lanka had just won the 1996 cricket World Cup and the country was still euphoric. For weeks, Sir Arthur had to cope with irate Sri Lankan cricket fans — as he told a visiting American journalist from The Philadelphia Inquirer, ‘I had a lot of explaining to do’.

Moral of the story:
1. Be always careful when talking to journalists.
2. Keep your criticism of cricket strictly to yourself.

Human Development Report Foreword by Sir Arthur C. Clarke: Communications for Goodness’ Sake

Read my later post: Arthur Clarke’s climate friendly advice: Don’t commute; communicate!

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 59 other followers