A life of grit struck down

A boy from a poverty-stricken family braves all obstacles, enters Medical College and is about to realise his dream when he is killed in a freak accident. Kumudini Hettiarachchi speaks to his grieving parents

It was a journey he had made hundreds of times. That day too, May 8, he woke up at the crack of dawn, had a bite of “something”, lit the tiny clay lamp near the small statue of Lord Buddha in the corner of the bare room and was on his way.

“There was a little bit of rice and pittu from the previous night’s dinner, he ate that and when his father wanted to accompany him, he said he could see the pathway by the light of the Vesak moon, took the torch and left home,” says his mother T.L. Seelawathi, 61.

This was barely a week after his birthday, a birthday on which he had seen a long cherished dream slowly and surely coming within his grasp. For at 20, Pimburage Ushan Prasad Saumya Kumara had entered the hallowed portals of the Medical Faculty of the University of Colombo.

Sheer grit and determination had seen him face up to the numerous vicissitudes of life, the worst being abject poverty. A visit to his home, way off the beaten track from the Horana-Bulathsinhala Road, miles from anywhere, says it all. The humblest of abodes, one has to turn off at Govinna junction and keep going until one reaches Retiyala and onto Imala Kanda, the last three miles, more a cart track than a road, being through rows and rows of rubber trees, crossing a streamlet and up a rocky hillside.

“In the rainy season, Saumya Kumara parked his bicycle beyond the three miles, sometimes trudging back and forth and wading through the gushing streamlet, cycling to the main road and then catching a bus, be it as a Grade 1 student at Govinna Vidyalaya or as an O/L and A/L student at Thakshila Maha Vidyalaya and finally as a medical student,” says Seelawathi.

Life was tough and all the odds were against him, but even as a nine-year-old Saumya Kumara had set his sights on a distant star – passing the Grade 5 scholarship examination with very high marks (a near-impossible172), reaching fifth rank in the Kalutara district at the O/Ls and triumphing at the A/Ls by coming first in the area.

All this was possible, with the help of many people, foremost of whom was Dayananda Bombuwela, owner of Vasana bakery in the area. He managed to get his books and clothes and follow tuition classes with their support, says father P. Methiyasingho. The family manages to survive as they have a few rubber trees. “Rabar tikak thiyena, eka kapala thama pana geta gaha gaththe,” says Seelawathi.

Saumya Kumara’s parents now grapple with the heart-rending thought that their one and only child will never come home, a home which is bare, not only without his presence but even without the basics for comfortable living. The empty hall has only a few rattan arm-chairs and plastic chairs. The two small rooms leading off it are also bare, except for a ragged desk and a chair in one room, where Saumya Kumara had studied by the flickering flame of the kuppi lampuwa (lamp bottle).

No beds, no furniture………nothing. The house of cement blocks is sans window panes, the opening near the desk does not have even a rag to cover it.

“This is how my son studied,” says Seelawathi, while Methiyasingho pulls out several diaries their son had kept, not to write his daily routine but to jot down verses and quotations, putting down on paper his yearning for success.

“Shalya karma karannyi ona wune,” says Seelawathi explaining that he wanted to become a surgeon. The first step in that direction came on April 23 when Saumya Kumara went to the Medical Faculty, but a strike by minor staff and the Vesak holidays gave him a chance only to attend a few lectures. The plan was for four medical students to find lodgings somewhere in Colombo as they were not given hostel facilities in the first two years. However, as no suitable accommodation could be found, they decided to rough it out for about two months.

May 8 was no different. He left home at 5.15 a.m. and later his parents heard by word of mouth that he had fallen off a bus and damaged his teeth. They then rushed to the Horana Hospital and as he had been transferred to the National Hospital, went to Colombo, only to find him unconscious. “As deka ariye ne. Katha kere ne (He didn’t open his eyes nor did he speak),” Seelawathi says, slowly slipping to the floor to sit, overcome by emotion. In addition to head injuries, they believe he had also broken several ribs.

The striving for success came to naught in a matter of seconds, leaving one wondering and pondering over the unfairness of life and death itself.

The last moments of their son’s life they have been able to piece together only from those who saw the accident. He had boarded a CTB bus heading for Colombo and asked for two tickets, one for himself and the other for his friend who was also a medical student and was due to get on board at the next halt, promising the conductor that he would pay up at the next junction.

As the bus was crowded, he and another person were on the footboard. When the bus swerved around a bend, a stocky man above them in the bus, lost his balance and fell on them, knocking them off their feet. The person who was on the lowest step, fell off and is reported to have died on the spot, while Saumya Kumara who had struck a telephone pole suffered serious injuries.

He was on a Bulathsinhala-Colombo bus and had not even reached the next halt, after getting into the bus, says the mother, adding, “Ath deka athaerila.” (He had let go unwittingly)

For three days, he remained unconscious and died on May 10, with the funeral being held on May 12, with his village weeping for a good life lost.

It was on May 3, his 20th birthday that he “lit up” the temple close by with precious money he had earned, working at the Horana People’s Bank, while awaiting entry to the Medical Faculty.

His promise to his mother had been that he would build a nice little home for them as soon as he passed out as a doctor, with the second being his hopes of buying a car.

“Aath venawa thamai, eth mehema nemai. Aathma shakthiya nethi vuna,” says Seelawathi explaining that partings are natural but not like this. “Life has no meaning. I wanted to join an aranya but I have to be with my husband because he needs me.”

There are no more tears……..only stoic resignation as no answers to life’s twists are forthcoming. A fate worse than death seems to have befallen this humble rubber-tapping couple -- seeing their son go to the grave before them.