A Child of Curiosity
How inherent inquisitiveness became a key driver in learning experiences.
Born in the mid-20th century, I am a product of the post-World War II era. My parents, who were teenagers when the war commenced, married in the 1950s. My birth took place at Zoysa Nursing Home, a renowned institution in Colombo, Sri Lanka, around 5 in the morning. Sri Lanka, known for its tropical climate, is a beautiful island nation south of India. This climate appealed to me, and I sought similar weather in my twenties, spending them in Dubai, where the winter resembles an Australian summer.
Raised by religious parents, I held them in deep affection. However, the church teachings posed a paradox for a young mind, instructing one to love God more than one’s parents. I initially adhered to the Ten Commandments and other societal norms in Asian societies. My school years were enjoyable filled with friendships that have endured over time.
In my youth, I broke a few commandments, such as skipping Sunday Mass, leading to a guilt that took over a decade to vanish after I understood biology and human sciences. Early on, I learned to challenge societal norms, confusing many in my home village, especially the elders. I gathered the courage to protest certain orders and even against some seemingly trivial customs or practices.
I discovered something invaluable during my school years that would serve me well. I realised that I possessed a keen sense of curiosity and self-assurance, which I could rely on and found joy in nurturing. I had unknowingly developed an understanding of sensuality, particularly in visual perception, prioritising sight over sound. My robust self-confidence led me to experiment with various things. These traits have stayed with me, playing a significant role in my intellectual pursuits, even when they seem abstract.
I was deeply familiar with various places, including the city, the capital, my home village, the neighbourhood, and even my grandparents’ ancestral villages and distant towns and roads. At home, I had access to my grandfather’s library, a treasure trove of books, National Geographic magazines, and Christian religious books dating back to the 1930s and 1940s. These were initially locked with padlocks, but I unlocked them and began reading them one after the other. The artwork and images in these books fascinated me. I didn’t follow any order in my reading, letting my curiosity guide me. I immersed myself in reading, sitting on the ground, for there was no time. When my mother could not find me, she often discovered me nestled near my grandfather’s enormous book cabinet, engrossed in the world of words and images.
By age ten, I knew the country’s electoral map, thanks to my frequent travels with my family and curiosity about politics. I knew each electorate and every minister’s name. I knew the names of each shop on my school route. I even collected rent from our tenants at ten, issuing receipts upon receiving cash. All these experiences supplemented my school knowledge.
I was fascinated by subjects like geography and history, while I found chemistry utterly dull. I developed an interest in arts and sketches. Languages intrigued me, and I read magazines and newspapers intended for adults. By age twelve, I was on my way to mastering a second language, English. I derived immense pleasure from writing and speaking. Speaking English at home with my father was a pivotal moment for me. Although my mother lacked the confidence to converse in English, she knew the basics and gifted me my first dictionary, an English-to-Sinhala one, which she had used during her schooling.
All these experiences bolstered my self-assurance and confidence.
Before I turned twelve, I attended a boarding school for Christian brothers, aspiring to become one when I grew up. However, I abandoned this aspiration before I turned sixteen, which led to my flight from the monastery — two decades passed before I understood my battle and spoke openly about what happened there.
By now, I had become acquainted with teachers and caregivers who deserved respect. I knew every member of my extended family and relatives regardless of their educational background or financial status. This instilled a sense of justice and social equity from an early age.
I was a diligent student for the first nine or ten years of my schooling, often ranking among the top in my class. However, around the age of sixteen, my interests began to shift. I aspired to become a filmmaker or a visual artist, even though I was studying accounting, after giving up sciences, subjects that I found boring. Accounting and statistics were quite advanced subjects for my age. I was in a university college where most of my peers were in their twenties.
Interestingly, I became the object of affection for the most beautiful girl in the university. She was affluent and elegant, arriving in a chauffeur-driven Mercedes while I travelled by bus. Despite our different backgrounds, we formed a unique bond. But that did not last, for she was engaged to be married to a wealthy suitor, and I was probably poor compared to her wealth. I had no chance. It was my puppy love.
During my university college years, I lost my way in a facility not designed for underage students. Recognising this, my father intervened and applied for an apprenticeship that would ultimately alter my life’s trajectory. By age eighteen, I was apprenticing in telecommunications, a field that would evolve into today’s cutting-edge technology.
I relinquished my dreams of becoming a filmmaker or an artist, as these professions were not lucrative during that era and often led to poverty and hardship. Besides, becoming a filmmaker was impossible; it was an abstract dream. I never attended art school, so becoming an artist was also gone with the wind.
I found my passion where technology intersected with my innate curiosity to learn and discover. That combination led to continuous growth and innovation. I was destined to nurture this blend of interest and curiosity, which would open new horizons for me.
Between me and my distant aspirations, there seemed to be nothing but gaping voids; everything was shrouded in uncertainty, devoid of any intrinsic value. Yet, one thing remained steadfast: my desire to relish life. I had a vibrant social circle outside of my workplace and prioritised spending time with them, placing my social life above all else. I had become a rebel without a cause.
My apprenticeship was a brief chapter, cut short by my emerging rebellious streak. I dabbled in union politics, but my confrontational attitude and disregard for the established order proved to be a poor fit. After several administrative disputes with management, I found my exit strategy — a job in the hospitality industry in the sun-drenched, burgeoning city of Dubai, which was still essentially a desert in the mid-seventies.
My tenure at the hotel was also fleeting. I transformed into a nomad, a traveller in the desert. My curiosity and audacity got the better of me. Merely four months after arriving in Dubai, I found myself back working for a multinational bank. It was a full circle. Suddenly, I was a well-off young man, earning thousands of dollars, with a moustache yet to sprout. I resembled a schoolboy. I made new friends in Dubai of both genders, attended disco parties, and took up smoking. However, I steered clear of alcohol and drugs.
But it was in Dubai that I truly matured. I didn’t grow up in my birth country; I came of age in Dubai. I was careful with my money, realising this was my golden opportunity. At that tender age, I grasped the depth of my parent’s love for me, allowing me to be the free-spirited young man I was and the extent to which my father had mentored me to become the independent thinker I had evolved into. When caring for my family, money was never a constraint.
The young maverick had been tamed by now. Maturity came early.
Now, I understand my early years were filled with a thirst for knowledge and a questioning spirit. Nurtured by a loving family and a rich reading environment, I was fortunate to explore various interests, including languages, geography, and the arts. I developed a sense of self-assurance that allowed me to experiment and challenge societal norms.
Subscribe to my stories https://djayasi.medium.com/subscribe.
