My Memories of the Health Department Sports Club

by Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

I have such fond and lasting memories of the Health Department Sports Club. It gave me shelter from the storms of life in 1970-74. My earliest memory of this great institution is when I was a third year medical student and saw the world in brilliant technicolour. There was a huge party for the medical fraternity at the Sports Club under the auspices of the Medical Students Union. Drinks flowed freely and there was a lot of it about. That was such a fun afternoon. When the alcohol levels rose so did the background noise.

H.V.J Fernando (Professor of Forensic Medicine) and Dr WDL Fernando (JMO) warmed up to the occasion and sang with great forensic detail their signature tune of “Officer’s daughter who hanged and died”. It was sung with such intensity and passion, they received a rapturous ovation. I still keep a recording of the song sung by Eranga and Priyanga to recall those happy times of my youth.

After the finals in 1967 I sold all my medical books and wanted no more examinations. My ambition after internship was to be a DMO somewhere far away from the city. This rural idyll had great appeal for me. My father was a government servant who served in numerous locations in the upcountry and also in the deep south. With my parents moving on transfer every four years I had a wonderful nomadic childhood. I loved the solitude and the peaceful tranquillity living close to nature. The serenity of mountains, the silence of the lush green valleys and the ripples of the gurgling streams brought calmness to my soul. Although I applied for a post in Bingiriya just a short distance from Chilaw, by some quirk of destiny I received a posting to the Central Blood Bank in Colombo. I have always assumed this was a clerical error which later turned out to be a blessing.

At the Central Blood Bank it was my duty and privilege to travel the length and breadth of the country collecting blood for transfusion. This took me to the remotest parts of the island and also gave me the opportunity to meet some of the DMO’s that propped up the health services in those inhospitable places. I stayed with Dr. Sanath de Tissera when he was DMO Rikillagaskada. The town was distant, lonely and isolated. I was simply mesmerised by the stunning beauty of the surrounding landscape. I also got at first hand a glimpse of the life of a DMO which was far removed from the utopia I had in mind.

When I was working at the Central Blood Blank I was a regular evening visitor to the Health Department Sports Club. I was then living with my parents in Battaramulla. By some good fortune the Club was on my way home. I can still remember the bar, the ambient lighting and the soft canned music that played continuously. There were times Dr.Vedavanam, Dr Razaque Ahanat and sometime Dr Revo Drahman joined me. We talked politics, philosophy and careers and a multitude of other fascinating subjects that were made compelling by the amber nectar. Cheap and cheerful, Arrack was our drink.

This wasn’t a particularly happy time in my life. I soon began to enjoy the easy life in Colombo. The Central Blood Bank then became the centre of my universe. I accepted its quirks, idiosyncrasies and oddities as a part of working life. Although these posts were generally accepted as dead-end jobs, its attraction was the luxury of being in Colombo. From school through to Medical School, I’ve been a city slicker and loved it. I free wheeled endlessly enjoying the company of friends, visiting the cinema and being a pillar of the Health Department Sports Club. The Club was a magnet for health workers who loved a drink and a chat in the evenings. I was never short of company. Its membership was open to all Health Department workers and the presence of radiographers, physiotherapists and clerks made it an interesting eclectic mix. There is no better way to break barriers than alcohol. I must confess that during my visits to the Club I have never seen anyone drunk and disorderly.

The members behaved impeccably and the barmen maintained discreetly the dignity and decorum of the Department of Health.

On an evening It gave me immense pleasure to walk through those familiar portals of the Club. One that stands out in my memory is the day when there was a small gathering around the bar as I entered. On that warm evening I sat with my drink overlooking the shimmering lights of the surrounding buildings. As the night wore on a young lad strummed his guitar and began to sing those well loved popular songs of CT Fernando, Chitra and Somapala and Sunil Santha. What sticks in my mind is his beautiful rendition of that all time favourite “Tika venda nala, konde kadala”. Its cleverly parodied sensuous lyrics was an instant crowd puller. As I walked to my car that evening I could still hear the clapping and the slurred voices in the distance.

When my time in Sri Lanka was coming to an end on one of my visits I saw a large gathering at the Club. It was the farewell for Dr M.P.C Jaimon who was emigrating to New Zealand. There were a few from our batch and I do remember Dr H.N Wickramasinghe. HN and I did internship together at Kurunegala and we had much to reminisce. There was plenty of drink, a lot of chat and several warm hugs before we said our goodbyes. This was a sombre moment I will always cherish. Subsequently Jaimon qualified in anaesthesia and moved to Sydney, Australia. We never met again. Sadly our beloved ‘Jaima’ is no more.

At times, I realised to my horror, I was there at the Health Department Sports Club for a drink on my own. This wasn’t a good sign. Living with my parents I was never short of good advice although much of it went unheeded. It is easy for alcoholism to take hold. What hounded and heckled me often was a short verse in our pharmacology textbook by D.R Laurence. In his brilliant description of the treatment of alcoholism was the sombre lament of an alcoholic who had accepted the inevitable “Doctor, goodbye, my sails unfurled I’m off to try the other world”.

My life seemed to drag on endlessly. What finally saved me from seeing pink elephants was the constant nagging of my parents and the news of the MRCP Part 1 to be held in Colombo for the first time. The latter gave me an opportunity to focus on a worthwhile ambitious project. I had to buckle down to some hard work and also to move away from the tight grip drink had on me. Giving up the carefree life I loved was not easy. The energy, enthusiasm and the sheer determination of my ambitious friends at the General Hospital Colombo steered me in the right direction. My success at the examination was a defining moment in my life. I had finally left my troubles behind and celebrated with my friends, where else but at my beloved Health Department Sports Club.

Living in the UK it is well nigh impossible to get access to information about the origins of the Club. Although none is available on the internet the institution must have a long history of the people and the events associated with its existence. I’m told the Club at Castle Street does not exist anymore. The beautiful grounds and the surrounding marsh have been converted to luxury flats. It is sad to lose green space in Colombo where people go for relaxation and exercise. I wonder what outcry and protests there were from the many who used it for recreation, relaxation and pleasure. The Club was my refuge and brought me happiness and friendship at a crucial time in my life. The elegant spread of the single storey building painted a drab yellow will always remain in a secure corner of my memory.

After 30 years in green and pleasant rural Hertfordshire I have once again become a city slicker, more by destiny than design. I’m a great lover of London for what it has to offer in the way of sports, music, opera, ballet, museums and galleries. Living in the shadow of Lords Cricket grounds has its many advantages but not when Covid is around. I have often thought of my paradise lost by not being a DMO. Then again I’m eminently aware of the loneliness that goes with the job. Lord Bacchus with his cunning and devious ways would have finally got me. Such was the fate of several of my friends who were medics in the ‘periphery’. I am proud of having worked myself up to the top of my profession amidst fierce competition in the UK. As for turning my life around and for the paradise regained, I call it the awesome force of destiny.

I am the beneficiary of hard work in my youth and have had a life well and fully lived. Despite some disappointments along the way, much to my surprise, I am happy, and often sublimely so. Well actually, I do have just the one despairing regret – not being with my parents in their hour of need at the end of their lives. I am confident they will forgive me that huge dereliction of duty.