Reminiscences of Peradeniya: The Ramanathan Oath

By S. A. Karunaratne

Some of us who are now spending the evening of our lives like to recall memories of our younger days and, share them with the present generation. There is one such event and a piece of writing related to the so called ‘Rag Week’ at Peradeniya which I thought would be of interest to the readers of The Island . I have not seen or read this in any publication so far, and my main motivation for writing this is the thought that since many of the people concerned have already left this world, the story needs to be placed on record before those of us who know it also join them soon. This piece of writing (the Ramanathan Oath) was not intended to be a serious oath. It was actually a part of a joke, befitting the occasion and therefore, the author loaded it with amazing wit and humour. I see a certain magical quality in it so much so that even after reading it for the hundredth time during the past 60 I still find it fresh and funny enough to make me smile for a while.

The event surrounding the Oath Taking has to be described first.

The year was 1957 and the new entrants to the University of Peradeniya moved into the respective Halls of Residence assigned to them sometime in July. I happened to be one of the ‘freshers’. The Hall assigned to me was Ramanthan Hall which was a men’s hostel at that time.

Borrowing a phrase from Dickens, “It was the the best of times and it was the worst of times.” Dr Sarachchandra staged ‘Maname’ about one year back in the same sorroundings, where its pleasant memories were still lingering on. The charm of Lester James Peiris’s innovative film: ‘Rekhawa’, which gave a completely new direction to the Sinhala cinema, breaking away from the Indian tradition, was still fresh in the minds Sinhala cinema lovers. SWRD Bandaranika had won the General Election ushering in a wholly new awakening in the cultural ethos in the country. Sri Lanka had not yet begun to feel the bite of scarcities created by declining foreign exchange reserves and increasing unemployment. Although every prospect appeared pleasing at the time, certain undercurrents of communal discord were nevertheless brewing below the surface. The rest, leading upto “Emergency 58” is well known history.

However, during those good old days,the ‘Rag’ conducted by the senior students was supposed to be an initiation for the new entrants. It lasted only one week, unlike the torture sessions extended over several months conducted in its name now. What happened during the Rag those days was not entirely unpleasant to those at the receiving end. In fact we still remember many amusing incidents over which we had hearty laughs afterwards. While writing this note, I happened to read the article on the Peradeniya campus life, written by Nissanka Warakulla (The Island Sat Mag; June 15, 2019). Since it describes fairly faithfully, the relevant scenario, my task has been made easier. For that I am thankful to him. However, I cannot remember meeting Nissanka who was a contemporary of mine though two years junior from his own account). His reference to the practice of announcing the results of the University Entrance Examination via a list published in the leading English daily newspaper is relevant to understanding a particular statement in the Ramanathan Oath. The older generation to which I belong probably has no difficulty in recalling some of the personalities and events mentioned in the Oath. Where necessary a few end notes explaining them are included.

What I wish to relate now is the event to which I referred earlier. It marked the conclusion of the Rag Week at the Ramanathan Hall. During the dinner hour the “Honourable Seniors” made an announcement to command all the freshers to form a line along the main ground floor corridor leading to the back door exit. Everyone was given a lighted candle and asked to sit on the floor. Then several seniors came and compulsorily administered a spoonful of foul tasting liquid to each of the freshers. No, fortunately it was not the kind of nasty mixture that we hear of now. Some of the freshers recognized it as Quinine- the bitter medicine used in treatment of Malaria. Most of us managed to gulp it down. This was immediately followed by a more unpleasant test of endurance: kissing the bad end of an ordinary choir broom held to each nose. Immediately after this ritual, all the corridor lights went out and the freshers were marching slowly and silently (no talking was allowed) in an orderly line in candlelight towards the back of the building and up one or two staircases (I do not remember how many now) and then herded into a room which looked like a small common room or a study area. We had to sit on the floor against the wall (some of us were standing due to lack of space.) and facing what looked like a speaker’s lectern. Someone who looked like a judge or a priest in a long black cloak and wearing a dignified and grave look on his painted face stood against this desk ready to address the crowd. Two of our fresher colleagues stood on either side of the ‘Judge’ holding two candles to enable him to read a document kept on the desk. The two assistants were attired to suit the occasion (My memory is not clear on this). It would have been dark shirts and funny caps and or coloured ribbons on their hair. The whole room was dark except for the two candles. We could not escape the feeling that we all were suddenly become a part of a mystery filled drama.

Then the (Judge) Oath Giver commanded attention and began to read .

STAND

“This oath shall hereafter be cited as the Oath of Allegiance to Ramanathan Hall”

Silence !

(Kneel and repeat after me)

I —(Your name)…a squint-eyed, lock-jawd, yellow-livered, bow-legged, hare-lipped, dog -eared, chicken-chested, pot-bellied, pigeon-toed and cork-screwed fresher, who so lately arrived before this holy citadel through a process of clerical errors and misprints in the newspapers, so freshly torn asunder from the navel string of my mother, the purse strings of my father, and the apron strings of my ayah

“Because of the Law that no man can conjoin what the Honourable Seniors have disjoined, do hereby beg and pray, worship and neigh, kneel and bray, in the humblest manner to gain entrance to this Varsity Olympus, this Seat of Learning, this Demi-Paradise, this other Eden (without Anthony Eden) ;Ramanathan Hall.

STAND

I do hereby stand erect or bent (as the case may be) and purify myself by drinking deep of this drought Wada Kaha, the local Hemlock which is more powerful than the Hemlock that killed Socratese or Tony Lock who bowled against the West Indies

KNEEL, AND DRINK

I kneel again at the feet of my Honourable Seniors, feeling now like an appendix – useless when quiet, but in danger of being removed when troublesome, I entreat that the Right Honourable Seniors may give me the will to live, or the way to die, cure me of the gray sickness and procure me some gray matter. I give them all the power to make or break me, make me take one step forward, and two steps backward, educate and civilize me, specially in such days as these, when philisophers declare that the earth is flat, walk about in clogs and talk through their hats, and scientists say that we were born tomorrow in a relative way.

I kneel here penitent but thankful on the threshhold of life, with a pledge which comes from the deepest depths of my non-existent bowels, that I shall adopt the Monroe Doctrine on the fair sex, for in the modern wedlock, too many cooks lose the key, as the marriage is a dinner where the soup tastes better than the dessert.

I shall not bolt on seeing Bolton and I shall keep strictly away from from the Upper Hantana, the Switzerland Peradeniya and steer clear of the shade under the Bam, under the Boo, under the

Bamboo on the Mahaveli Banks for the fear being chased by man eaters and Pie Cutters, and other such atomic blunders and anatomic wonders.

STAND, KNEEL

I, Humpty Dumpty fresher shall not cast lustful looks and Kolynose smiles at the countless females of the species, infesting and infecting the campus, some virgins ans some otherwise, until such time as I have passed the General Arts Qualifying Examination. Amen.

STAND !

Once the administration of the Oath ended, all lights were switched on. The Honourable Seniors present declared the Rag Week had come to and end that we were all friends. They came smiling and shook hands put their hands on our shoulders. No more the stern advice: “Don t try to be familiar”. The freshers were all much relieved and delighted, but not for long! A few minutes later, there was an unexpected onslaught of bucketing. However, there was nothing to worry. That was the thank you for the cooperation and parting gift of the seniors, some of whom also got drenched. it was all clean water from the tap. “Sorry about that men. Go and get a bath for a change”

Some of the seniors who engaged in the ragging operation at the Hall of Residence eventually became our good friends. The idea that ragging was an essential element of university life is probably a myth. This is why the majority of the senior students stayed away from this unsavoury practice. I would not like to classify the Oath Taking event described above as a form of ragging. It was probably an experiment in drama art, conducted during the Rag Week because, in the set of entrants, the organizer/organizers of the show found a set of docile and obedient group. The minor torture elements were added to make it look like ragging, to satisfy some of ragging enthusiasts.

For some time, we were wondering whose idea it was to plan and arrange such an interesting and unique event as the Oath Taking which we witnessed, nobody owned up. However, over time, everybody agreed that it was none other than G. K. Hattotuwegama, who in later life became a well known drama personality responsible, among other things, for pioneering work in Street Drama and for being a much respected Guru to a number of well known actors and actresses adorning the Stage and Screen today. The oath taking was probably an experiment in drama which GK conducted – we could recall some other instances when he pulled some surprises on his fellow residents and walked away as if nothing happened. I am therefore sure that it was GK himself who composed the most of the Oath, if not the entire piece and played the role of the Oath Administrator on that never-to-be-forgotten night in July 1957.

(The hand written version of the R- Oath document which I acquired probably contained some errors and omissions which were carried over to the above typed version. I offer my apologies for that ,and kindly request those readers who may have the correct version to contact me at my email) karunaratnesa@yahoo.com> )

End Notes

:

(1)

Para 1 of the R. Oath: ‘Clerical errors and misprints in the newspapers’ : In those days before the advent of the Mobile phone and the Internet, the University of Ceylon informed the candidates of the results of the Entrance Examination via advertisements in the daily newspapers..

(2) Para 2–

Anthony Eden: The name of the British Prime Minister during 1955-57

(3) Para 3– Wada Kaha:

A home-made herbal mixture taken by a large number of misguided women in Sri Lanka, who believed that when taken during the Total Solar Eclipse of July 1950 it would make them more beautiful. However, it turned out that the medicine produced unexpected and embarrassing results requiring treatment in hospital. The event made amusing newspaper headlines for several days.

(4) Para 3: Tony Lock and West Indies:

Cricket enthusiasts of the older generation will probably recall these events and personalities.

(5) Para 4:

The ‘Flat Earth Theory’ This was apparently a subject of serious academic discussion among some students and teachers in the Philosophy Department at that time.

Para 6

: Bolton: The reference here is to Mr Bolton – the Chief Marshall who apparently was responsible for student decipline and security within the Peradeniya campus. A person with smart and athletic appearance, he also functioned as the Boxing Coach at Peradeniya. – all the more reason to avoid unpleasant encounters with him!