I was born in Galle, to a middle class family.My father was a clerk in Government Agent's Office. My mother was a primary teacher. I am the 3rd of a family with one sister and two brothers.
My mother was my first teacher of my life as well as the first teacher in my school. She was a devoted teacher; some times we were compelled to 'hate' her as she devoted her school vacation for poor kids but not for us.
We walked to St.Aloysius College from home (about 3km) from the very first day of school. And four of us fought each other to grab the mother's hand some times made her angry.
My mother was the first admirer of my poetry which were written in Sinhala, my mother-tongue. She kissed me and embraced me for my first poem, when I was in grade two (7 years old) . I can still remember that poem was about a sweet little bird we called it 'Battichcha'(Smaller than a sparrow, but sings lusciously) . Then my second poem was regarding a king who donated his own head for a poor person, for him to be rich as his own brother was demanding to be the king. I recollect as I saw a drama regarding the tragedy which stuck me and gave a pain and sorrow.
I was doing well in poetry for the school competitions but in Sinhala.
When I went into university entrance class the poetry went off from me as we had hell of a lot of rat-race to enter into the Medical College. Fortunately I met Pushpa (My wife) and as we started loving each other the poetic feelings stood up with a rush of lovable feelings. I still believe LOVE can make any fool a poet. We had a painful beginning that we couldn't see each other for months because of youth unrest in 1988-89, so both of us put our pain of desolation and love towards each other into words.
Entrance into the medical college again cut off my trance in poetry. Tough life with heavy books, hard English with lots of Latin, memorizing pages, paragraphs, chapters and books made me almost deaf and dumb and pathetic mechanical person. I tried to do music in order to come onto the surface from that muddy lake.
Passed out as a Doctor in 1996 with a great enthusiasm to work and serve poor people in SriLanka, purposely applied a rural town for the internship where I tried to smell the genuine hearts of SriLankan farmers and their farm life.
Having determined to be a doctor only to serve people, decided to join SriLanka Army where I met my precious 'second life', I spontaneously went into writing more and more.
I am very feeble in English language yet, I try my best to study....
This story is yet to be finished........
This story yet to be completed........