Letters to the Editor
View(s):An overpass needed at Walakumbura station
The 57-year-old Walakumbura railway station has now become an important hub serving a huge number of railway commuters in and around Walakumbura. After the erection of the suspension bridge at Walakumbura spanning the North Western Province and the Sabaragamuwa province, this number has increased further. Since the railway line and the A 6 highway are almost touching at this point, it is much more convenient for commuters to access the station.
Nevertheless, due to the fact that this double-line station does not have an overpass, people have immense difficulty moving from one platform to the other. Many valuable lives have been lost and one cannot fathom why the authorities could not consider the necessity of an overbridge when they started to renovate the platforms there.
Building an overpass is crucial to avert any untoward incident on the line, and we feel handicapped for want of one. If such a project comes into effect every user of Walakumbura station would heave a great sigh of relief. I look forward to seeing the authorities give due consideration to this request.
Moreover, if aesthetically pleasing antique designs are applied to the station structures such as the overpass, fences, awnings, lamp posts etc. resembling that of an old English railway station, it would be a very good tourist attraction in view of the fact that the Walakumbura railway station is the only station situated very close to a highway and a river as well.
Upali Karunathilaka Via email
In memory of Bhathiya and the others who went before him
I see them, the others, here before me
In this strange, salubrious, vast tract of land.
They still bear the scars
Bull hooks and injuries
When trains smashed into them.
Welts caused by chains
and wicked mahout whippings!
Legs and trunks restored,
Those who were shot like me
Suffered, painfully and long, prior to release
The ones who swallowed
Pumpkins and watermelons, spiked with nails!
This place is beautiful, streams and lakes,
Whole forests of kithul palms
Sugar cane, even woodapples
We take our pick, as we walk and talk
Even the elders who endured those kraals,
Mother elephants, whose babies were taken away!
We are safe here, waiting,
as we walk towards the light
All is peace.
And yet, we think, about those we left behind
In a land,
Where only man is vile.
We once roamed wild and free
When our paths and corridors ceased
Reserves overrun, facing,
a lack of food and water
We became, the “enemy”
- Sharmini Rodrigo
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