Self-evaluation of Motherhood

I missed my mother -- Upul Shantha Sannasgala
I don't know my mother -- Dhammika Ganganath
I'm a successful son .... an unsuccessful father -- Madhumadhava

Lecturer Upul Shantha Sannasgala, Professor Dhammika Ganganath and singer Madhumadhava who were present recently at the launching ceremony of a website about the theme Mother shared their personal experience abut their own mothers.

What lyricist and popular Sinhala Lecturer said that he missed his mother. "Most of us who rushed into urban life severing connections
with our home, our village, our relatives and our umbilical cord get thrust forward by this competition of city life and I miss my mother. then after that I meet my mother at her funeral.

I had to give the speech of thanks. On that occasion I suggest to those who were gathered there that if I be born as a woman in my next birth and my mother be born in my womb .... for me to experience that labour pains ....delivering my mother .... only then that I would be able to repay the debt to my mother. We have missed our mother at some place or the other".

What Professor Dhammika Ganganath had to say was that he had not seen his mother. "I of course don't know much about my mother. I don't recognise her. I have nothing else with me except a small photograph of her when she was 19 years. I enlarged it and keep it near my bed. When I go in the morning I kiss the forehead and two cheeks of that photo and leave. When I go to sleep in the night also I do the same. It was taken at the age of 19. That is the image etched in my heart .... because when she passed away .... she was 23 years".

What singer Madhumadhava said was that though he became a successful son, he was an unsuccessful father. "Only 2 months elapsed after coming from Wattegama to Kandy .... when my father lost his job. I was in a house for Rs. 150 in Maligawatta. that day I saw my mother who knows nothing about Colombo roads used to tying her hair from the front side. She was a teacher. I can remember how used to tie it up like this with one hand. She worked twice as much than a teacher should. She would help the children in the village with their studies. I saw her as a mother who did not market that position of incapability. They were the mothers whom I call Sinhala mothers. Even today .... whether it be a moonlit night or not .... I can wait without eating as if I really had taken my meals .... because of my mother. One day ....when something is released into the cyber space .... that day I'll lift up my hands and admit that I am the most unsuccessful father in the world. But ... I am a successful son. Because of that .... to go and see films .... eat 'wade' at Galle Face in the night-time .... drink plain tea .... go for a walk ... talk about books on drama .... to be fed .... even day-by-day my mother is waiting for me to come".