Madura Kulatunge isn’t naïve. He
doesn’t know fame the way others do. Doesn’t bother him. He still does what
he’s always done. He knows his stuff and my guess is that nothing short of
“perfect” will ever suit him. Ordinarily this would unnerve anyone. Not with
Madura. He can appear friendly but he’s shrewd enough to spot out anything that
jars and disturbs. In his line of work that’s natural. It counts.
He is known as creator of probably the
most useful dictionary a Sri Lankan can find online. He takes and everyone else
gives him credit for that. He deserves more. But I reserve judgment. For now.
Madura was born on March 23, 1980 in
Matara. He was educated at Royal College. I ask him whether his school imparted
to him a love for computers and software, and he readily affirms that. “We had
a computer society,” he tells me, “But that was more or less limited to those
who came from the necessary background. We didn’t know much about software. Our
only experience was limited to visits we made to an internet café in Union
Place, where we’d surf the web every day.”
He sat for his A/Levels in the Commerce
stream (“I didn’t even pursue Science!”). This was in 1999. But his journey
really began a few years after leaving College, when he pursued a Diploma in
Computing at the National Youth Centre in Maharagama. “Back then I didn’t know
how to operate a computer, next to nothing about hardware, and absolutely
nothing about software. It was a big deal just to know how to power one up!”
His stint at the Youth Centre apparently changed all that. He explains how.
“We had teachers who knew their stuff.
They taught in English and I admit I found that hard, given my deficiencies in
that language. On the other hand, they taught me so well that I took in
everything they said. There was one Korean teacher who managed to get us all
interested in what he said. None of them came and taught with the intention to
earn. We could see they loved what they did.
“I remember playing a music file with
my friends once. There were four people to one computer, as I recall. Back then
we didn’t know how to use Media Player. We used another program. Either way, listening
to music was prohibited. But when a teacher saw what we were doing, he just
came up to us and played that file for us! That showed how readily they
inferred and approved of our ‘thirst’ to know more.”
In the meantime he got his first
computer. “We were not rich back then. Both my parents were civil servants. We
paid for the computer using my father’s gratuity. It cost about 55,000 rupees
back then in June 2001: a Pentium III 733 Mhz PC, quite advanced for its time
here and certainly worth its weight in gold.”
I ask him how he found the Diploma
useful those days. “Most people would go there to just pass, because the exams
certainly weren’t easy. I on the other hand loved to attend lectures. I always
wanted to more than pass, because I guess the subject got close to me. The
teachers were encouraging as well. You see, computing isn’t a subject you learn
just to pass. There’s something beyond that you aim at.”
There are other anecdotes. Other
memories. Madura reveals them all. “Soon after completing my Diploma at the
Youth Centre, I was enrolled at Abacus Computers. That was for a Special
Diploma in Information Technology, which like the previous diploma wasn’t well
recognised. But I learnt much about programming there. Like Visual Basic.”
This is where he met his first turning
point. “I remember going to Sarasavi and buying a book on VB. Back then we were
recommended those ‘Sam’s Teach Yourself’ tutorial books. In fact that is what I
tried to get that day. But my eyes fell on this other book, and for some
reason, after quickly going through it, I found it much more endearing. Yes, it
was in English. But based on all those illustrations and on what I was learning
at class then, I found it interesting. That is why I bought it.”
Apparently Madura hadn’t found it easy
to read the entire book. But he did one thing. He read it from page one, which,
as he tells me, benefited him in the end. “The book, even in the first few
chapters, went through the logic or rationale behind programming and coding. We
weren’t really taught that at class. There were also those grey areas our
teachers didn’t really look into. The book explained those as well.”
His language-deficiency reminded,
however, and for this reason it remained a barrier for him. That is why he
resorted to referring dictionaries, particularly the Malalasekera
English-Sinhala dictionary, in reading that book. “That was when I realised the
value of those books,” he tells me, “Because we didn’t have quick reference
guides through the internet, for the simple reason that we didn’t have
internet. Dial-up was expensive and not many people could afford it. Certainly
not us.”
After teaching himself the finer
points of Visual Basic, Madura then decided to apply what he’d learnt. He made
a program. A dictionary. He admits he had to resort to Malalasekera to find the
words and transcribe them, but at the end of the day, the idea for the program
remained his. Besides, another point stood in his favour. This was the fact
that not many Sri Lankans were designing apps like that during his time.
He explains what happened next. “I
tested my program on several friends’ computers. The trial period lasted for
about one month. When my friends started calling me back and telling me how
useful it was, I decided to release it.” I ask him here whether he had any
intention to earn from this venture. “Not at all,” he says, admitting however
that he had a rather egocentric desire to see others use and be happy with his
program.
And so, on November 23, 2002, he
launched the dictionary. “The program was priced at 300 rupees by the seller. I
gave it to him for 200 rupees. The cost built up to about 75 rupees after
factoring in the printing and packaging for it. So in the end I earned about
125 rupees as profit, although there was some vital equipment I had to spend
on. Everything was pretty expensive back then, after all. A mere CD writer cost
about 10,000 rupees, mind you! So it wasn’t all easy-peasy.”
Madura has other qualifications. He
passed out as a Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer in 2005. He pursued a MSc
in Computing from the Sikkim Manipal University, through ICBT campus. When his
product began soaring, he was also recognised by the University of Moratuwa
when he was invited to address a symposium. This was after he had launched his
product on the web in 2008.
The symposium (which was held in
September 2009) had been a career-turner. “Professor Gihan Dias, who was pretty
well known in the country, actually called me to address the gathering. He told
me to just come and present my website. But I wanted to do more. Instead of
just unveiling something, I made a presentation and explained to the audience
the entire backdrop to my program. They were enthralled. I remember Professor
J. B. Dissanayake congratulating everyone gathered there.”
It was around this time that he began
to realise and appreciate the concept of intellectual property. “When we were
small, we didn’t know much about copyrights. We thought that software was
freeware, essentially. That is why I didn’t have inhibitions in using Malalasekera.
But when I realised what I was doing was wrong, I began respecting what others
had created. That work put into creating something can’t be measured. To copy
it is wrong. I have made that a principle in whatever I’m doing right now.”
There were other milestones of course.
Last year he released the Android application for his program (“I designed it
on April 9 and released it 11 days later”). His website is now currently among
the 50,000 most visited websites in the world (“competing with the likes of
Facebook and Twitter, mind you”), and the 51st most visited in Sri Lanka
(“competing with outside websites accessed by local and foreigner here alike”)
at www.alexa.com.
His credits are impressive. It’s as simple
as that.
I ask him whether it’s all been worth
it. He hasn’t enjoyed fame the way some others in his position would have,
after all. Before answering that he reflects back a little. “I was asked to
sell what I designed at various points. I could have. But I didn’t. Businessmen
and companies undercut what my concept really meant to me. I don’t intend to
part with it. At all. That is what I created, and while I remain thankful to
those who made it possible, I admit that my creation is my own. So yes, it’s
all been worth it.”
You don’t see people like Madura Kulatunga every day. Certainly not here. He is different. That is because he sees things radically. He can spot out a fake and I know for a fact that he has made this a guiding principle in his life and career. That, at any rate, is enough to commend and recommend him.
Let me be more clear. He has verve. He's friendly. And inventive. A rare combination, you must admit.
Written for: The Nation INSIGHT, June 20 2015
No comments:
Post a Comment