Wonderful memories of a great and genial violinist-cum-teacher

The passing away of Mrs. Eileen Prins last week, at the age of 94, brought back myriad memories of violin lessons under her in the mid-Seventies. Showing some early promise on the piano, and a second instrument being deemed necessary to pursue a professional musical career, I was carted off for violin lessons at the fairly late age of 11 years.

My father, who also learnt the violin under the same teacher as Mrs. Prins – Rupert Wagn – was simply amazed at her patience and tolerance. If you play a wrong note on the piano, it is still an in-tune note; with the violin, if you place your finger a fraction of a millimetre off the correct spot on the string, you can create a very painful sound on the ear. My violin playing was liberally sprinkled with such sounds, but Mrs. Prins would only smile and say, “Ah ha ha, let’s try again to place your finger on the correct spot”! This is my most vivid recollection of her.

Mrs. Prins was the first recipient of a Government Scholarship in Music to the Royal Academy of Music, in London, in 1939. It is said that she arrived in London two weeks before the start of World War II, and that she would practise on her violin while German bombs fell close by.

Although we did not hear her as a soloist, senior members of the orchestra remember what a fine and sensitive violinist she was. She was the founder Leader of the Symphony Orchestra of Colombo, and held that position for 27 years.

Being the foremost violin teacher of her era, she had a galaxy of students who regularly either won prizes at the prize winners’ concerts of the Royal College of Music, London examinations, or performed with the Symphony Orchestra of Colombo as young soloists. The most outstanding of them all was Michael Siva Prakasam, now a doctor residing in the USA. After one of his exams, the examiner himself came out and spoke to Mrs. Prins and his parents about his playing and future career. Michael’s sister Naomi too learnt the violin under Mrs. Prins, and played in the Symphony Orchestra until marriage and migration. Dr. Hans Wijesuriya, head of Dialog, was another prodigy, who started violin lessons at the age of four. Mrs. Prins would fondly recall how little Hans would come for his violin lessons armed with his teddy bear, which was kept on top of the piano, and how Hans, during brief breaks in the lesson, would conduct a “dialog” with his teddy!

And there was Suparni Gunasekera, who had a simply outstanding tone on her violin, and was a regular prize winner on the violin, clarinet and piano; the Halpe siblings – Guy, Hasini and little Aparna, who used to eagerly bring along her 1/8th size violin in the hope of being able to start lessons like her older siblings; Ramesh Rambukwelle, who developed such a passion for the violin that he pursued it further in the States; Ruchira and Jayantha Fernando; John and Julie Aloysius; Anusha and Druvi Attygalle; Sharmila Nikapota; Sulochana Premaratne; Thiru and Mohana Vanniasinkam; Lishanthi Wijewardhena; Dilini Fonseka, who moved from the violin to play the trumpet in the orchestra; and Sashi Nadana Siva, who from the viola moved to play the bassoon in the Symphony Orchestra. 
As the Leader of the Symphony Orchestra, Mrs. Prins felt a responsibility to ensure the required quota of instrumentalists. All of the aforementioned students played in the orchestra, many beginning on the violin and later switching to other instruments.

Playing occasionally with the Symphony Orchestra in various capacities gave me an opportunity to watch Mrs. Prins in action there, under the baton of Dr. Earle de Fonseka.

Mrs. Prins was a very social being, and at orchestra practice she was relaxed, and revelled in sharing a joke with her co-chair, good friend and fellow teacher, Mary Billimoria, while making music together. Firmly entrenched in their roles as Conductor and Leader of the Orchestra, there was much banter, as well as tense moments, between Uncle Earle and Aunty Eileen. It is said that on one particularly feisty occasion, Aunty Eileen so goaded Uncle Earle that he stepped down from the podium and walked out of the practice! We youngsters thrived on all this counterpoint and contrapuntal interplay and eagerly awaited each Sunday morning practice for the developing sequels!

Examination time was a hive of activity, with all these busy multi-talented youngsters having to fit in to the schedules of teacher and accompanist; we began with Mrs. Lynn Senanayake for the lower grades, progressed to Michael Siva Prakasam (depending on his medical faculty schedule), and did the higher grades with Mrs. Bridget Halpe, who also helped out with the viva section of the examination, and in analysing the movements of the pieces. I am grateful to Mrs. Halpe for her value addition as accompanist. I got a distinction on the violin whenever she accompanied me!

The verandah adjoining Mrs. Prins’ music room in her School Lane, Kollupitiya residence would be filled with fond mothers and violin cases. There would be the feverish application of rosin on bows, while chairs would be brought in from the dining room to seat the students awaiting their turn with the accompanist. A devout Roman Catholic, Mrs. Prins would bring a sacred medal to the examination centre, which she would pin on each candidate in turn before they went in for their exam.

In order to give her students confidence in playing before an audience, Mrs. Prins would hold house concerts at the end of the year. I remember playing at three such concerts: once at the Old Bullers Road home of Anton Wickremasinghe; once in the hall of the Good Shepherd Church, Thimbirigasyaya, and once at the Elibank Road home of Uncle Earle.

Mrs. Prins was very house proud and kept a tidy home. She began her lessons at 2.30 p.m. each day. Five minutes before your lesson, you would hear her pottering around in the adjoining bedroom before she came into the music room. On the piano was a framed autographed photograph of her Professor at the Royal Academy of Music, in London.

She spoke with equal pride of her three sons – Jan, with his doctorate in sports medicine in Hawaii, Stephen the journalist and Paul the mathematician. When her first granddaughter was born, we heard regular reports of her progress. I understand that she has two granddaughters, one now in medical school.

I am grateful for the wonderful memories I have of learning the violin under Mrs. Prins, with no pressure to excel, but only to give of one’s best, musically.

“Her music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more.”

Shanthi Dias (née Thambar)

St. Philip Neri’s beloved priest is nearer to the heart of God

Fr. Alfred Alexander

The remains of a distinguished son of Jaffna, affectionately known as Fr. Alex to many, will be sent back to Sri Lanka from Australia, where he passed away. It is significant and providential that his remains will be brought to St. Philip Neri’s Church, where Fr. Alex spent the greater part of his life, proclaiming God’s love for humanity. We heard that the Church of St. Francis, in Melbourne, where his remains were, was packed to capacity with priests and other clergy, and there was not a dry eye during the sermon and the oration.

In Sri Lanka, too, people and clergy from all religious denominations and all walks of life will celebrate this gentleman priest’s life, rather than mourn his death. As a Christian, he would have died many a time to live for Christ in serving those who crossed his path, at the same time internalising the spirituality of the Cross: “For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil 1:21). Fr. Alex often spoke those words, and he lived them.

God bestowed an abundance of gifts on Fr. Alex. If you went to St. Philip Neri’s for Mass after his death, invariably the young celebrant would say, “I am standing before you today because of Fr. Alex.” I, myself, was blessed to be associated with the Blessed Sacrament Congregation and can, therefore, say with conviction that Fr. Alex nurtured and shepherded the young men who were under his tutelage. And how proud he was of every one of them.

I have a vivid memory of Fr. Alex breaking down at the ordination of some young priests – his joy knew no bounds! He effortlessly moved on from being the Regional Superior (twice or thrice) to the President of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors. Various other responsibilities were showered on him. The mantle of power sat lightly on this Man of God as he humbly viewed every opportunity as an additional instrument to serve God.

Fr. Alex was always happy in his community, but more so when he was walking that extra mile doing something beautiful for God. There was radiance in his smile. In this ocean of suffering on earth, Fr. Alex was indeed a drop of mercy. He never let “self” intrude, and went out of his way to be close to anyone who needed him. Those who knew him well knew he was a solid rock, with his loving reassuring presence, sadly now gone.

Fr. Alex was in this world, but he was not of this world. The news of his death was a shock to all. Reading “Our Daily Bread’, as I do every morning, I was struck by the strange coincidence that last Sunday was the feast of ‘The Body and Blood of Christ’ -- the feast of the Blessed Sacrament Congregation and the reading contained the most beautiful verse I have read in a long time. The devotional for the day was by Anne Cetas and in it she has given us the words of a hymn by Cleland B. McAfee – “Near To The Heart Of God”. I cannot think of anything more beautifully appropriate with which to end this tribute:

There is a place of quiet rest
Near to the Heart of God
A place where sin cannot molest
Near to the Heart of God
O Jesus blest Redeemer
Sent from the Heart of God
Hold Father Alex who waits before Thee now
Near to the Heart of God

Rest now dear Fr. near to the Heart of the God you loved so much.

Karen

Like bubbles and butterflies she has flitted away

Shafraza Muzammil

There are friends who enter our lives and as distance, responsibilities and life catch up, drift away. While that has been the case with many of my friends, Shafraza Muzammil, remained my best friend even though we were oceans apart and our friendship was tested by China’s discommoding need to block email providers and social networks from time to time. But we stayed in touch. She had to go through the hassle of frequently changing her email address but she would never fail to keep her close friends updated with her latest account. Her last email-handle was ‘bubblesandbutterflies’.

‘Bubbles and butterflies’ is an ideal description of her. She had a bubbly and affable personality, and that’s largely why she was loved by everyone who was blessed to have met her. But in stark contradiction to her delicate nature, she was one of the most determined and independent people I’ve known. While we were from the same alma mater, I truly got to know her when we studied journalism together at the Sri Lanka College of Journalism. Fluency in spoken Sinhala is something we both lacked, but Shafraza wouldn’t let that faze her desire to become a journalist. She learnt the language and joined the Sunday Times after obtaining a diploma in print journalism.

About a year later, she married Rimzan Ameen and joined him in China. She was still passionate about writing, so her loving husband organised the starting up of a monthly magazine of which she would be the editor. He encouraged her to learn Mandarin. She was highly excited about it and would consult me regarding a name for the magazine, finding writers and what sort of content would be best. Everything was in full swing, Shafraza was delighted, but her time had come to return to Allah (swt).

On June 5, just a month before she turned 24 years, Shafraza took her leave of this world. Though she is no longer a physical part of our world, her close group of friends, Aamina Nizar, Heba Husain, Nazeeha Muhammad Ali, Shazna Refai, Humaira Thalayan, Manal Haque and I will keep her alive in our thoughts. She inspired all of us in some way. For me, it was her encouragement not to deviate from Islam; to seek Allah (swt)’s guidance and strive to be a better Muslim.

May Allah (swt) grant her Jennathul Firdouse.

Megara Tegal

A life cheerfully dedicated to helping others

Hemamali Abeysiriwardena

It is with a heavy heart that I write these few lines on Hemamali Abeysiriwardena, the energetic and dynamic Secretary of the Nepal Friendship Society for 20 years. She passed away on May 7. She rendered a remarkable service to the society during her tenure of office.

Hemamali was the livewire of the society. Her ability, efficiency and untiring efforts helped us to achieve good results in all the projects launched.

She was gentle in every sense of the word, understanding, endowed with wisdom and great vision which she demonstrated on many occasions. She hated to be idle and always looked for new ventures in life. She had a great personality. The unique aspect of her life and career was that she took an interest in religious, social and cultural activities, based on the principle that faith without work was dead.

She was always prepared to give generously, not only material possessions but also her advice, encouragement and companionship. She had a cheerful countenance and was very hospitable. She lived a simple, modest and unassuming life, extending a helping hand to many a worthy cause. She was the embodiment of kindness and simplicity. She had many friends from all communities and walks of life.

Her pleasant demeanour and sense of humour helped her in her social activities. She had a charming personality which pleased everyone with whom she came in contact and a radiant and winsome smile that reflected a calm, composed and tranquil mind. Though that eloquent and calm voice has been stilled, it will continue to reverberate in the ears of most of her friends. She will live in the hearts of the poor people, whom she helped quietly.

The cruel hand of death snatched away a lovable, cheerful and understanding person. Her untimely death is an irreparable loss to her beloved and devoted husband, Hector, relations, friends, associates and acquaintances.

Our friendship dates back to our student days at Musaeus. I admired her noble qualities, which brought her close to me. The friendship developed steadily, blossoming to a bond lasting until her demise. I have lost a dear and precious friend.

She lived a full life with kindness to all and malice to none.
May she attain the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana.

Memories are treasures
No one can steal
Death leaves deep heartaches 
No one can ever heal
Time may heal the edge of grief 
But golden memories turn back every leaf.

Ratna Goonetilleka. Past Vice-President, Nepal Friendship Society

‘Still loved, still missed, and very dear’

Kanisha Dissanayake

I met Kanisha for the first time on Vesak day 1975. She was lighting lanterns with her father. She was 12 years old and I was 13. Little did I know at the time that she would become my best friend and sister-in-law and that our friendship would last through thick and thin.

As little girls and teenagers the two of us got up to all sorts of mischief. As young women we shared the experience of becoming mothers for the first time, when our girls were born a few weeks apart. So many memories of all the things we used to do always keep coming back to my mind.

A year has gone by since you left us but the pain in my heart still lingers as I did not get to tell you how much I loved you or how much I cherished our friendship or thank you for all the times you were there for me when I needed a friend. I miss all the things we shared, the quiet times, the smiles, the laughter. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you.

“Those we love don’t go away
They walk beside us everyday
Unseen, unheard but always near
Still loved, still missed, and very dear.”
I will always love you Kani. You will always be in my heart.

Sadly missed and fondly remembered by your brother Ravi, sister-in-law Mano and nieces Avanthi & Anisha Senaratne

Party loyalty and integrity were his outstanding qualities

The hundredth birth anniversary of this great statesman falls today. We should look beyond politics to honour him as a national figure of significance. It is indeed a pity, that in our country, political barriers prevent honour being given to those who deserve it.

A respected political writer, during Dudley's lifetime wrote 'how many know the qualities he possessed of head and heart which were rarer than one in a million'. The late Dudley Senanayake, as a statesman and as a man, was not made of common stuff.

We live today in a land of paradox--- dirt of one sort or another, dust and crystal clarity. Noise, tumult, violence side by side; with the Buddha's message of peace and tranquillity. As one watches from the sidelines, one sometimes feels as if it is part of an ancient ritual, of which one has no knowledge and can never comprehend.

As we look back in retrospect at the life of Dudley Senanayake, those of us who were privileged to know him are aware that the things which mattered most to him, as a statesman were ethnic amity, his unwavering belief in an agricultural economy and law and order. He strove hard and long through the curves and junctions of his life on all three counts. He believed in telling people the truth rather than in false promises which are inevitably, a surefire passport to popularity. I'm glad that the present UNP leader is following Dudley in this and in his high standards of integrity.

The word 'politics' is derived from the Latin 'politicus' and the Greek 'politikos'; both of which mean belonging to the people. Dudley Senanayake was a man who truly belonged to the people. Although a reluctant politician, he sensed the true gait of politics, and never strayed from the straight path. Although the ordeal of war is long over, the experience of suffering to millions, death and loss of loved ones to others, are like the aftershock of an earthquake. Reconciliation and unity are still a dream; celebrations go on with unprecedented grandeur, but the root of the problem lies unsolved.

Dudley Senanayake did not believe in grandeur in any form whatsoever. He enjoyed the finer things of life but lived a simple life. Even as Prime Minister, he would be seen driving his little Triumph Herald around. Politicians of all hues, in much less important positions travel in luxurious vehicles today, causing chaos on the roads with their security vehicles. Photography, music and reading were his hobbies and he was happy with them and his little dog, Pixie.

Although educated at Cambridge and a reluctant politician, he was able to travel the rough road of politics with distinction. If we had continued with his agricultural economy, we would have been self-sufficient in rice by now. He wanted to free people from poverty, which is a kind of enclosure; and lead them to unity, economic independence and freedom. He did not indulge in revenge, imprisoning opponents behind bars and restrictions. He didn't believe in inflicting pain on the innocent, or even on those who create wrong; and was totally against bloodshed and mayhem.

His gentle, amiable manner and sharp inquisitive mind, shied away from the endless charades of politics, practised by those jockeying for power and positions before their time. To him, the taking of a human life, under any circumstances whatsoever, was an act of murder which he would not condone.
Law and order were a priority to Dudley Senanayake. He thought of it as the cement that held everything together; and the only thing we could cling to when we reach the final line. He would hate to see the lack of law and order prevalent today, in every nook and corner, of the country, that he loved so much.

He was an excellent speaker in Parliament, on political and other platforms; and could hold his own among the shining array of stars that were his peers in Parliament at that time. That was undoubtedly the creme a la crème of Sri Lankan Parliaments. Dr. N.M. Perera, Dr. Colvin.R. de Silva, Philip and Robert Goonewardene, Dr. S.A. Wickremesinghe, Pieter Keuneman, all educated at British Universities. Deeply instilled in them were qualities of justice and fairplay. Arguments, there were in abundance; but all in good spirit and they were the best of friends both in and out of Parliament. Dudley's hearty laugh, wit, humour and powerful voice are legendary in Sri Lanka's parliamentary history. He would be devastated to see the low standards of behaviour, in this most august assembly; sunk to the lowest levels ever, now.

A beacon of light, throughout his political life was his loyalty to his party. Even when he resigned, caused by enemy orchestration resulting in circumstances beyond his control, he refused to join or support another party. This was in spite of being offered any office that he chose. Whether in or out of the party, or as a backbencher, he never hurled abuse or attacked those who had succeeded him as leaders of the UNP. These are good lessons for those who do so today, causing disunity and chaos.
This and his integrity are to me his outstanding qualities; which I think any leader should possess. In today's context of people crossing the floor, and accepting office for perks and privileges; his is an example that any aspiring young politician should attempt to follow. This is the only way one can command respect in life and after it. Just before his death, he was heartbroken by sections being formed within the party which caused discord and strife.

My father, who was at S. Thomas's at the same time, my paternal uncle Harry, who was his classmate, my maternal uncle, the late Bishop Lakdasa de Mel and my late husband, to whom he was a role model and political mentor, all admired and respected the late Dudley, like they did no other. He was to them an exemplary statesman; perhaps too fine a gentleman for politics and one who commanded great respect, nationally and internationally. I got to know him well, after my marriage, but I count it as the greatest privilege of my life to have had this opportunity as any conversation with him was an education.

There were absolutely no allegations of dishonesty thrown at him; be it commissions, missing state treasures or any hint of fraud or amassing wealth. He was never self-seeking and power-obsessed, always full of innate kindness and a love for humanity. His funeral was a testament to these qualities.
Never in the nation's history, had such a vast mass of humanity, gathered together on a single day, for a single purpose.

They came from all over the country, irrespective of political affiliations, weeping openly. No crackers were lit at his death. The people seemed aware that they had lost a rare national treasure; there would never be another quite like him. This is why he still remains a political icon today, unsurpassed in honour and integrity; words which have unfortunately, lost their meaning today. Our country is now a Paradise lost through greed, limitless ambition and false pride. Will we ever regain it? That is the question; it appears to me, to be a conundrum without a solution.

Ilica Malkanthi Karunaratne

A picture of elegance she imbibed what was best of both east and west

Nalini Wickremesinghe

Just after midnight on Sunday, June 5, my cousin, Kshanika, called to say that Aunty Nalini had passed away. It did not come as a shock, as she had been getting steadily weaker since her 90th birthday last August. Yet, my sense of sadness was profound as I lay in bed reflecting on her remarkable personality, her life and the memorable moments I was privileged to share with her over nearly 60 years.

Nalini Wickremesinghe, nee Wijewardene, was my “Loku Nanda”, my mother Mukta’s eldest brother Esmond’s wife. In many ways she epitomised the model woman – tall and stately, beautiful and elegant, she had impeccable taste combined with a superb sense of style. She was independent, intelligent and articulate, with strong opinions on global events and local politics. About the latter she may have been somewhat biased, as her immediate family was so involved in it! She also loved books, music and theatre, and worked tirelessly to encourage the performing and visual arts and traditional crafts in Sri Lanka throughout her active life. She was a devout Buddhist, yet respectful and understanding of others’ beliefs and customs. She loved and nurtured her own family, while extending her thoughtful kindness to her wider family circle of brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, in-laws and later, grand nephews and nieces, including my own family.

My earliest recollections of her go back to my childhood, when, every Sunday, my grandmother, Esme, would have a family lunch at our home, Lakmahal, comprising Esmond, Nalini and their 5 children, my parents, Mukta and Sam, and their 3 children, and other extended family members or friends who may have been staying at Lakmahal at that time. Much as we loved her, Aunty Nalini would always be late, and we would patiently wait with stomachs rumbling till nearly 2 p.m., when Loku Nanda would sail in, as regal and elegant as always, to sit down to enthusiastic conversation and the delectable traditional yellow rice, chicken curry, and batu pahi spread. The Lakmahal theory was that her day was just as busy and long as everyone else’s - it just began 2 hours later! Despite being served late, lunch was always great fun, usually ending with treats bought from the chocolate fudge vendor on his bicycle and the “hakuru bola” vendor with the large tin box of goodies strapped in front of his tricycle who came to Lakmahal those afternoons, followed by cricket matches in the front garden or the cousins dressing up and performing on the balcony.

Esme, Nalini, and Mukta were three very independent and diverse personalities, each greatly respected among peers and subordinates in their own fields of interest and influence. Yet, in all the years I knew them, I never once heard a harsh word or criticism among those three, such was the affection and esteem they had for one another. It was only as I grew older that I was able to appreciate how unusually strong those bonds were, between the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law and the two very different sisters-in-law.

Another aspect of the harmony in which we lived was the mutual respect for, and interest in, each other’s traditions and customs. My mother and grandmother raised us three in an anglicised Christian environment that celebrated Christmas and Easter, while Aunty Nalini raised her five children in a typically traditional Sinhala Buddhist environment where Sinhala New Year and Vesak were celebrated. What a rich culture we grew up in! Each New Year, Aunty Nalini would ensure that her children came over to worship their grandmother with the traditional sheaf of betel leaves, and that we kids at Lakmahal received Avurudhu gifts, while at Vesak, we would visit their home in Fifth Lane to stand entranced under the trees admiring the Vesak kudu that their household had beautifully crafted hanging from the upper branches and later, light the candles in the colourful bucket lanterns which hung on the lower branches. Similarly, each Good Friday, the Fifth Lane kids would be sent their share of Hot Cross Buns, while Christmas lunch at Lakmahal was a major annual event, when they, in turn, would enjoy our enthusiastically decorated Christmas tree and my mother’s Christmas cake and plum pudding. Since she married my uncle in 1944, Aunty Nalini had an unbroken record of sharing 66 Christmas lunches with us at Lakmahal, until ill health prevented her from doing so just last year.

In a culturally Western-dominated Colombo society of that time, Aunty Nalini was a determined promoter of all forms of Sinhala culture and crafts. While she had an abiding love of Western music and literature, she was as enamoured of Sri Lanka’s traditional music, theatre and dance forms. She wrote beautiful English poetry as a school-girl at Bishops’ College, loved to play western classical music on the piano and was an authority on opera - an interest she shared with her son, Ranil. She was also an unobtrusive benefactress to many struggling artistes, and a founder member of, and instrumental in building, Sudarshi, the Sinhala Institute of Culture on Bauddhaloka Mawatha (now opposite the BMICH), home to aspiring dramatists and dancers and handloom weavers. I have memories of stunning sarees woven on the hand looms at Sudarshi and watching dance and drama practices in Sudarshi’s main hall, as well as performances in the open-air theatre at the back. She encouraged those interests in us - classics such as Professor Ediriweera Sarachchandra’s Maname, which she helped to put on gramophone record for the first time; watching the all-time favourite “Nari Bana” at Sudarshi’s open-air theatre; and more recently, meeting the explosive author of “The God of Small Things”, Arundhati Roy, at a dinner in Aunty Nalini’s home, to which she was kind enough to include her nephews and nieces, rather than more important literary guests she could easily have invited.

Aunty Nalini was a true nationalist who lived by her principles. She led by example and by deeds, not mere words. In a post-independence era when most Colombo-based parents of her generation and social standing sent their children to the excellent Church-run private schools of that time, Aunty Nalini sent her children to state-run schools - her sons to Royal College and her only daughter to Visakha Vidyalaya. She made this choice, even though she had been a star pupil and Head Prefect at Bishop’s College in her time and was a very active member of its Past Pupils’ Association, as were her two sisters, Rani Gomes and Kusuma Goonaratne, while her two brothers, Sivali and Ranjit Wijewardene, had been sent to S. Thomas’ College, Mt. Lavinia in their time. She also nurtured her children to be truly proficient in their mother tongue as well as in English, a global language, and to appreciate the best of Eastern and Western culture, even though in that era in Colombo, the emphasis was on the latter. Her thoughtfully selected gifts of books by Sri Lankan authors and about Sri Lanka to us and my children over several decades will not be forgotten.

Another aspect of Aunty Nalini’s personality was her artistic appreciation of the beauty of Sri Lanka. She always preferred the indigenous jasmines, ehela, araliya, lotuses and water lilies of the tropics to dahlias, roses and chrysanthemums. She kept an elegant home and took a personal interest in her luxuriant garden with its majestic trees. Over the years, with some architectural help, she single-handedly designed and built beautiful homes for all her children, for which some of those trees had to be sacrificed! She encouraged appreciation of our traditions and culture in us as well. She obliged readily when I requested her to arrange for one of her family retainers, Mudiyanse, to come to my school, Ladies’ College, to give weekly lunch-interval classes to our seniors to make “Gokkola” decorations. That year, Gokkola bedecked the stage at our annual “Kala Ulela” festival of music and dance.

Aunty Nalini was a professional working woman as well, wielding her influence as a Director in the family newspaper business at Lake House, and later, after the family business was nationalised, at Lake House Book Shop. She supported young authors and helped them to get their works published, and also re-printed new editions of valuable Sri Lankan books that had gone out of print over the years. To this day, the Wijewardene family continues to encourage young writers with national awards for literature and journalism. In particular, the D.R. Wijewardene Award for the best Sinhala novel in unpublished manuscript form was her brainchild. She was an avid reader of the newspapers and took a great interest in politics, an interest she shared with her husband Esmond, and later, her son Ranil. Her family interest in the news media also influenced the careers of two sons, Shan and Niraj, who run the TNL television and radio stations, respectively, while Kshanika and Channa inherited her interest in business. A respected professional in her own right, she was offered a directorship on the Board of Air Lanka Ltd., the national carrier under the Jayawardene government of the late 1970s. Her son Ranil, who was a Junior Minister in the same government, quietly told her that he would resign if she took up the position, as it could be perceived as a form of nepotism. She accepted his criticism and honourably declined the position-a far cry from the political nepotism we see today.

She was a warm and gracious hostess. Time spent in her company was always interesting. I remember day trips as a child to her coconut estate in Udubaddawa, a memorable beach holiday on the East coast in Mankerny and, as a young adult, invigorating spout baths and learning from her about the hair-cleansing properties of “Veralu” leaves on week-ends at her home on the edge of the Bolgoda Lake. In later years, with her eyesight and knees getting weaker, she was less mobile and I loved visiting her to spend a happy morning or evening discussing all sorts of topics with her. She was a very family-oriented person, a truly wise and kindly matriarch, not only to her own siblings, children and grandchildren, but also to her relatives by marriage. Her birthdays were an annual event we looked forward to, where we would meet the entire extended family of 3, and later 4 generations – her own children, grand and great-grand children, her own and her husband’s siblings and their children and grandchildren. Such was her magnanimity that several years ago, she gently, but firmly announced that her worldly needs were well met and requested us to support a needy orphanage in Ratmalana in whatever way we could, in lieu of birthday presents to her. So we would turn up at those elegant birthday parties her children and daughters-in-law organised for her, carrying in cardboard boxes of soap and toothpaste and milk powder! The love and attention showered on her by her entire extended family, especially her own daughters-in-law, are a testament to the high esteem and affection in which she was held.

I remember, with gratitude, her warm affection and thoughtfulness towards my grandmother, my mother and father, my siblings, my own family and myself, her regal beauty and stately elegance, her impeccable taste and sense of style, her independent intellect and artistic acumen, her deep appreciation and active support of books, music, art and traditional crafts, her dignity and discretion, her wise counsel and her principled life. Her loving presence will be missed by all of us who knew and loved her. May she rest in peace.

Anila Dias Bandaranaike (nee Wijesinha)

She promoted culture and craft in her own way

Nalini Wickremesinghe was an elegant personality. Simplicity was part of her charm. Her funeral ceremony without the usual fanfare was a reflection of her lifestyle.

She was Director/Editorial at Lake House in the early 1970s when Lake House was still at its peak. Carol Aloysius and I, having passed out from the University of Ceylon, were among the applicants for a Women’s Page Assistant’s post in the Observer. Following a three-hour written test, an interview followed when I nervously sat before a dignified lady whom I later learnt was the eldest daughter of the legendary founder of Lake House -- D.R. Wijewardene.

The other was the formidable Denzil Peiris. This two-member interview board’s decision to recruit us was the start of my career in journalism. A random survey held by this time had given high ratings to the Women’s Pages in the Sunday Observer.

The early 1970s marked the revival of the arts, crafts, batik and handlooms. With the economy sliding at this time and imports curtailed there was also a tremendous search for innovations, inventions and substitutes for foods, fabrics, sarees etc. The restrictions on the import of flour brought manioc and kurakkan flour to the market and chefs turned out chocolate cake with kurakkan flour.

“Bathala” was used in the making of pastries substituting for potatoes. In Mattakkuliya, two sisters opened a meat processing factory and turned out sausages, salami and other cold meats for the first time in Sri Lanka. New fashion-trends set the pace with the use of batik, tie and dye and handloom material.Under the supervision of the editor, the attempt then was to encompass this new scenario. The pioneers of the new ventures needed publicity and encouragement. Knowing what the country needed at this time, Mrs. Wickremesinghe too, graciously entered the scene directing us with care and diligence.

There was no TV at the time. Only the state-run radio channels functioned. The former Times Group and Davasa Newspapers were our competitors. But, Lake House publications almost monopolized the readership recording the highest circulation figures.

Therefore, the responsibility to cover and promote events was far greater than now. A devout Buddhist and a lover of history, Mrs. Wickremesinghe was also a keen enthusiast of Sinhala drama. Perhaps her greatest contribution to the theatre was towards the construction of the Navarangahala at Royal College for the performance of dramas, a project which unfortunately fell through.

And I got into the habit of frequenting the Museum Library and the Anthropology Section due to her love for antiquities – a love which she infected me with. As a result, our readers got a glimpse of how our ancestors used their kitchens, drawing-rooms, bed rooms, wore their jewellery and played games.

With the takeover of Lake House in 1973 by the then government, Mrs. Wickremesinghe left Lake House. We missed her guidance and direction. However, with her appointment as director to the Laksala Board in 1977 -- she took to her new post like a duck to water -- she got into direct contact with the craftsmen. Once again, we renewed our contacts with her.

Mrs. Wickremesinghe, whenever she extended her patronage, stoutly stuck to the principle of the Wijewardene family of never making an appearance in any of the newspapers owned by them. But with the passing away of such personalities, will any such principles be left?

Rajitha Weerakoon

You’ll always be beautiful and good

Lankika de Livera

You shall not grow old 
As we that are left grow old. 
For in our mind’s eye you’ll always be 
Slim, young, beautiful and good, 
For you were kind and generous 
Yes, generous to a fault you were. 
You were a marvel at giving gifts, 
You could put Santa in the shade. 
So sincere was the mind that gave. 
You did not want to take revenge 
On those who hurt you, 
You did not want to litigate 
Even though your grief was great. 
You suffered and you bore it, 
That is why you went and left us all.

Gertrude de Livera

A Bribery Commissioner who was different

I. F. B. Wickramanayake

Ian Wickramanayake was closely connected to my family through my maternal grandmother, who was a Wickremanayake. To our family he was known as “Bardo.” He was very fond of my father, and my father of him. As a teacher, he spent his vacations in our home at Kalahe, Galle. My Dad spotted his debating talents and persuaded him to take up Law.

I came to know Ian closely when I joined the Police. I sought his advice and assistance of the Crown Counsel at the Galle Assizes in pursuing prosecutions, having assisted the Crown Counsel in all our non-summary cases, when I was Officer-in-Charge of Hungama in 1964.

His good friend was Daya Perera, and he referred to Ian as Yakadaya. Crown Counsels at the time were of a high calibre, respected by the judges from the Bar and the Police. Ian, who had an excellent memory, could remember the regimental numbers of the Police constables and sergeants better than we did.

Ian had many good qualities, but he could sometimes be very emotional, and his emotions sometimes got the better of him. He never failed to help anyone in difficulty. I recall with gratitude how he helped me when I was charged for attempted murder after using excessive force in arresting a drunkard.

My brother Vere, also in the Police, took me along to see Ian, whose immediate reaction was, “Don’t worry, Nihal I will help you.” He called his good friend, the eminent lawyer Eardley Perera (later President’s Counsel). Ian introduced me to Mr. Perera at his residence, saying I was his cousin. He said, “If he is your cousin, I will appear free for him.”

Eardley appeared on 18 dates of trial with another family friend of ours, Chula de Silva, who also appeared free. I was acquitted. Ian’s assistance was available to everyone he knew, and to friends of friends. His benevolence and compassion knew no bounds, as a lawyer and when he was a Senior Solicitor General and Bribery Commissioner.

As a father, he was very close to his son and daughter, but because of work, he tended to neglect the family, something he regretted later in life. He had excellent support from his late wife and the children and son-in-law, not forgetting his sister-in-law, who took great care of him in his last years.

As a Senior Solicitor General and Bribery Commissioner, Ian reached the apex of his career. He could be emotional, and sometimes undiplomatic, which strained his relationship with the late Minister of Justice and Public Administration, Felix Dias Bandaranaike. He would disagree openly on various issues with the Minister; sometimes he was correct, but he lacked diplomacy in dealing with his superiors. He felt he deserved to be Attorney-General, when someone else was appointed. Ian felt he had shown enough dedication, commitment and loyalty to the Government and the Minister.

He loved music, singing and dancing. He loved to play the guitar and sing, and often entertained us at his home in Mount Lavinia, with Gaya Pattikirikorale, Upali Seneviratne, Jeyanathan, Pat Suaris, and Ariyasena.

He also played an important role with the Special Squad, formed with the Director of Intelligence at the time, L. D. C. Herath (later IGP), Minister Felix Dias Bandaranaike, and a team comprising Upali Seneviratne, Zernie Wijesuriya, B. A. Jeyanathan, G. Ariyawansa, Gaya Pattikirikorale, Pat Suaris, etc. 
Ian played an important role in rounding up the insurgents of 1971. He had excellent leadership qualities, and the intellectual capacity to plan, execute and prosecute. He had his plans for rehabilitating those who required a change of attitude.

He was very flamboyant, and proud of his revolver, which he carried and displayed whenever necessary. He was dedicated, committed and showed honesty and integrity, and courage and boldness in his decisions. He was not one to be swayed by political influence.

When he fell ill, his wife and family looked after him. Sadly, his wife and loving son predeceased him. His daughter, Shyama and son-in-law and sister-in-law and grand children cared for him in his last years. He was hardly able to speak when I visited him, but he was clearly happy to see Vere and me.

Nihal de Alwis

A devoted service at the warfront

Capt. Euranga Rathnayake

The third death anniversary of Capt. Euranga Rathnayake fell on June 4. During his career in the Sri Lanka Navy, he was awarded the ‘Ranawickrama’ medal for his devoted service at the warfront.

He was later also awarded the ‘Uththam Seva’ medal.

He also received the Long Service medal, 50th Independence anniversary medal, 50th anniversary North and East medal, Poornabhumi medal and the Vadamarachchi Riviresa medal.

He was also honoured with the Fast Attack Flotilla Pin.

This highly decorated officer passed away after a brief illness. We miss him greatly.

Wife Shiromi and daughter Sanuji Ruwanya

A final goodbye to my grandmother

My dearest Archa,

I may have shown up in the early evening of your life, but I still remember how I saw you as a remarkable lady. You were a legend. You had so many adventures and lived your life with such character and flair that you really were comparable to none.

I remember the Sukiyaki parties for which you dressed Sammy, Akkie, and me in bright-coloured kimonos, mainly just as decorations, tottering around in two-small sandals smiling at guests. I remember the Norwegian party decorations that I found one day, only to realize the extent of your party-planning skills.

Your love of Christmas was infectious with the four Christmas trees (one in white) adorning 25/6 Barnes Place every year. You sent those ornaments to California. These ornaments have decorated my every Christmas tree since, and will continue to decorate any Christmas tree I have as your spirit lives through another generation. You didn’t just show me the beauty of Christmas, but also the beauty of tradition and celebration, the beauty of life.

I always loved the pride that you took in your birthday: how much you planned the parties, the best purple saree chosen, and the very events that they were. You always let me help you open your birthday presents the next day, laughing at my dismay over yet another bottle of eau de cologne as I hastily searched for the chocolates.

I remember an elocution prize-giving to which you came. I recall how proud you were of me, and how many times you told me so. You were always so proud and happy for all of my accomplishments, and you always made it so clear.

When we moved to the United States, you mailed me two cookbooks which I, to this day, still have. Today, I love cooking. Many recipes that I tried were in those original books. On the two occasions that I returned to this great land, you laughed at my accent and told me you must be so important for Americans to visit. The whole time you were so happy to see me, and patiently and laughingly listened to all the stories I always had.

My truly favourite memory of you was when I got sick and was unable to visit you, you would ask me to come to the balcony in our house. You would stand on your balcony, and I, a little girl at that time, would stand on mine. Then, we would blow air kisses to each other. You used to catch them, count them, and then tell me when I could go back to my room.

You were one cool lady who taught me so much about life not only with your words, but also through your actions. You really knew what it was to live life to the fullest. Thank you for being my Archa. I will miss you.

Love
Tashi

Tashiya Gunesekera

Your too, too short life brought us untold happiness

Baby Minindu Matheesha Hewage

It is three months since you bade us goodbye, on March 7, 2011. Never did I dream that as your Grandma I would be writing an appreciation in memory of my darling Chuty Baby. My heart aches and my eyes fill with tears as I write this.

Your beginning was so sudden – you rushed into our lives, ahead of time. Why so, darling Minindu Baby? Did you have a premonition of a sudden departure, just at your beginning? Your Amma sacrificed a lot to be with you and nurture you. She did it to the letter. She was like your shadow, up to the moment you left us.

Your loving Amma and Thaaththa’s untiring efforts, love and dedication transformed tiny you in no time into a cute little bundle of love. You gave us happiness to last a lifetime. Your first words, first steps, sweet smile, adorable ways – the many firsts in your short life brought us untold happiness. But it was to be just 16 months, from beginning to end.

You showed exceptional talents, promising a bright future. At that tender age, you could manipulate the remote control or mobile for your favourite songs and tunes, whenever you wanted to sleep. And how happily you would sleep, listening to the music and relaxing in our arms. All this will never be erased from our memory, as long as we live.

You had an unusual interest in the moon, flowers, and statues of Lord Buddha. You worshipped Lord Buddha with your tiny hands clasped above your forehead, just like an adult. Every day you wanted to worship, and with signs you directed Amma and Thaaththa to light the oil lamp and joss sticks. You have left us with many beautiful memories, but also endless heartache, and so many questions for which we cannot find answers.

Your unusual beginning, lovely existence and sudden departure have left a void in our lives, never to be filled. Your sudden departure came as a bolt from the blue, shattering our lives. We are still lost in a wilderness, trying to find a way out. As Buddhists, we should tell ourselves that death is inevitable and a stepping stone to another life.

Sweet little darling, may you never face such an untimely death in your sojourn in Samsara. Come back to us, dearest Minindu Putha, with a new beginning, and enjoy a long life.

We are waiting. . . .

Your ever-sorrowing Grandma

Champion of teaching English as a second language

Dr. Douglas Walatara

Dr. Douglas Walatara died on February 2, aged 91, leaving behind long and lingering memories among English teachers of yesteryear of a colossus in the field of teacher education. His mission was not merely the training of English teachers but more significantly their education, both at the Government Training College, Maharagama, and later at the University of Peradeniya. A mission of a life-time it turned out to be, from the 1950s right down to the end of the century.

In those days of yore, there were teacher-trainees at the Government Training College, ranging in age from their late teens to their early forties. Among the younger trainees were those who aspired to an English degree but had failed to gain admission to university. They sat for the Government Training College entrance examination, considered the second best option, and then sat at the feet of Dr. Walatara and Mrs. Evelyn Geddes, both English Honours graduates of the University of Ceylon.

That was abundant recompense for the lost privilege of sitting at the feet of Professor Lyn Ludowyk and his colleagues of the prestigious university English Department. (Mrs. Geddes died at 95, four years ago, in Australia.)

The trainees’ university entrance texts were brought out of limbo, dusted and opened for a fresh look several years after Form Six. Dr. Walatara and Mrs. Geddes invested these volumes with new life. There was also extra reading of texts such as Eric Newton’s “European Painting and Sculpture” that we drank deep of. This was the rich content of the subject of English that went beyond Hornby’s “Structural Words and Sentence Patterns” –“the dry bones of structure from which all living flesh has been plucked” (to use the memorable words of the late Dickie Attygalle), but which the new English as a second language government syllabus decreed to be the sum and substance of a second language.

Dr. Walatara eschewed such thinking and argued the case for “English as a non-medium vehicular language”, not just a second language. He wrote a fine tail-blazing book, “The Teaching of English as a Complementary Language in Ceylon.”

In it he argued for the teaching of English “whole”, that is, inclusive of its literature and culture, and not merely as a shadow language. He lamented the English teacher’s own declining command of his subject. The problem is a matter of not knowing English. It was Dr. Walatara’s view that “there is no other way of improving standards of English in the country save by enforcing a thorough study of English language and literature on the prospective teacher of English.”

One wonders who among our English teachers and those engaged in directing them, the myriad directors, advisers and consultants, are even aware of such a book, more relevant now than then. It was published in 1965 and priced at Rs 9.50, just to indicate the long lapse of time since.

Dr. Walatara also initiated the publication of “Changing Times”, in response to deteriorating standards of English in our schools. The Department also transferred the editorial board members, who taught in schools in the vicinity of Maharagama, to distant places.

A more recent reminiscence of Dr. Walatara’s contribution to the Teaching of English was “The Reconstruction Method.” This was designed largely for the benefit of rural children struggling to get a handle on the second language under teachers who themselves “learnt English as a foreign language and for whom English was entirely foreign”, as Dr. Kamal de Abrew once wryly remarked.

It was a bilingual method that relied on using the mother tongue as a resource for providing “a runway for taking off on the second language learning flight”. Dr. Walatara was seconded from the GTC to the Secondary Education Division of the Ministry of Education to organize and direct the “Reconstruction” pilot project in selected rural schools.

This project, and the textbook to go with it, was sabotaged by two professional antagonists who obtained the favour of the powers that be. The textbooks were sent to the Valaichenai paper factory and turned into pulp. It was the destruction of “Reconstruction.”

The irony is that a prophet was unhonoured in his own country by the powers that be in the Ministry of Education. But the gross attempt to extinguish the candle that Dr. Walatara lit in the gathering darkness of English studies did not succeed. He packed his bags and went to Peradeniya to join the University’s Faculty of Education, where he continued his mission of educating English teachers and not merely training them. He also obtained his doctorate there and his thesis: “Education and Attention: A Basis for the Humanities”, was published by Macmillan in 1980. He retired as Associate Professor of Education. 
After his retirement, his services were avidly sought by the Workers’ Education Institute, the Postgraduate Institute of Management, the Sri Lanka Institute of Development Administration, and also banks and corporations.

–This little tribute to Dr. Douglas Walatara, a renaissance man of our time, is from one of his callow students of the Fifties, who in later years became a grateful colleague. To Hermi, and Aruni, Vassathi, Ajanti and Sepali and their families, condolences felt in the deep heart’s core.

C.N.S.

A great show, thank you to a great man of the theatre

Kenneth M. De Lanerolle

The St. Thomas’ College Matara Ex-Seniors’ Drama Club remembers a great show and a master of stage production

It was the year Nineteen Hundred and Forty-Eight.
Exams over, our heads were light, 
Books were out of sight.
The ex-seniors’ Drama Club saw light.
At St. Thomas’ G.H.S. Matara, 
Mr. Kenneth de L’s home.

His sister, Ruth de L. undertook
The formidable task
Of producing Lady Precious Stream, 
Now a dream.
“Oh, we can do it,” the Principal,
Miss Ruth’s sister, beamed. 
Brother Kenneth was called upon
To train a teen-age group.

We were struck by his personality
Resolved and firm.
Strict discipline – “Accomplish
Your task, girls!”
Of course, Sister Ruth, the chaperone,
Took her seat aside, 
All under her watchful eye,
Her laws to abide.

Our first hurdle -- my cousin Shanti
Was Lady Precious Stream.
Her stern father was furious:
“Falling in love with the gardener!
She cannot take part! Imagine
The PM’s daughter!”
I conveyed the news to Miss Ruth,
Who changed the Truth –
“Oh, tell him the gardener is a prince in disguise!” 
It worked! Permission granted – how I lied!

Producer K. de L. started rehearsals,
He never smiled.
I was the Prime Minister with the
Well-trained voice – never mild.
K. de L. drilled me to be the ferocious father,
To oppose my daughter’s marriage
To crush her lover.

Rehearsals were serious, giggles were many;
One stare from K. de L. silenced the silly.
The stage was set at Broadway Theatre
With a real Chinese cast.
Our producer was also director
And a clever make-up artist.

I was transformed into a powerful PM
With curled moustache.
All players had eyebrows raised
For Chinese eyes.
K. de L. trained the ladies to trip
Short, quick steps:
And sail across the stage, fanning away.

Midst laughter and cheers
A grand, grand show.
Today, I gaze at the photo
of Lady Precious Stream –
It is indeed a beautiful dream.

To Mr. Kenneth de Lanerolle –
Producer, Dramatist, Artist.
The ex-seniors’ Drama Club
Pays this grateful tribute.

You left this world sans “Kala Awards.”
We hoist this flag to honour you – 
This is our Award.

Chathurani Abeyawira

Lanka’s epitomization of the ‘London Bobby’

Posthumous appreciations invariably reflect the sterling qualities and significant contributions made in that person's lifetime. I am honoured to write this appreciation of a colleague and friend - Collingwood Englebert Perera, popularly known as Collin Perera. A retired Senior Police Officer he distinguished himself both here and abroad leaving a shining example worthy of emulation by today's generation. 
He was Sri Lanka's answer to the 'London Bobby', loved by everyone, touching the hearts of rich and poor alike. The nostalgic trail of memories he left will be etched in our hearts forever.

A true gentleman, Collin drew everyone to him with his soft-spoken ways. Possessed of a good tenor voice he enjoyed singing, was a voracious reader and had a remarkable penchant for contributing articles to the press regarding his life and experience in the remotest parts of the island. In sports he enjoyed wrestling but was also a physical culturist who won the Junior Mr. Ceylon title on two occasions. He played cricket and soccer for the Police, was a wildlife enthusiast with hunting and fishing as his hobbies and swimming his forte.

Collin was the son of Charles Walter Perera, a railway station master and Blanche Mary Perera, an English teacher, both government servants. Collin took his work seriously, was happily married to Sonia (nee Dias) and had one daughter Tania domiciled in Australia. A true church man, Collin was held in high esteem because of his Christian values - the piety, simplicity and honesty he radiated within his family life and his sharp professional and managerial skills. The self-discipline and common sense he possessed were his passport to the world.

An ace raconteur, many gathered around him at parties and dances to listen to his rich repertoire of stories, small revelations with big meanings. He enjoyed such gatherings and would regale his friends with stories in his own inimitable form of delivery.

Due to his father's constant transfers in government service, the family was repeatedly on the move. Collin had his early education at St. Joseph's College, Homagama and St. Mary's College, Chilaw and completed his University entrance at St. Benedict's College, Colombo, on his father's final transfer to Bambalapitiya. While awaiting results he was offered a position at the Registrar General's office, which he accepted. In 1952 he joined the Ceylon Police as a Sub-Inspector, one of a few enrolled to that rank. 
The Police service was highly recognized and enlistments done purely on merit and on persons hailing from respectable family background.

Joining the Police, Collin left behind his vaulting ambition of pursuing higher studies and through honest work and diligence, he showed that anyone could be an 'all-rounder' with the right application of talents. Collin was a disciplined officer with unquestioned moral rectitude who inspired deep devotion in those who worked for him. Always kind and helpful, mostly to those in need, he embodied patience and equanimity - a salient factor of his life.

I was fortunate to work under his command, in the early stages of my career in 1973 at Galle, under the then SP in charge of the Galle Division, the late Mr. A. Navaratnam known as ‘Nayaa' (snake). Mr. Navaratnam was a strict disciplinarian who exercised complete control over the area and brooked no interference with Police work. Unfortunately, the downfall of the Police force started then with the recruitment of Sinhala Only ASPP's, who were unable to function at top level due to the language barrier.

It was Collin who guided and looked after the novice Sinhala ASPP's whose rudimentary knowledge of English kept them down in the dumps. He guided them on how to tread the correct path. His knowledge of criminal investigation helped to make some of the newly recruited ASPPs like Kumara Pandivita and A.T. Fonseka reach the highest point of their professional achievements.

Collin served for more than 22 years in various parts of the island like Bandarawela, Wellawaya, Moneragala, Bandaragama, Panadura, Kalutara, Wadduwa, Horana, Moratuwa, Pettah, Tangalle, Galle and Hambantota. He had undergone overseas training in U.K. and Scotland Yard and later joined the Oman Police in charge of the Doha Division as Commander.

On his return to Sri Lanka, he was appointed Chief of Security at the Insurance Corporation under Lalith Athulathmudali. Here was a man of indomitable courage, blessed with a brilliant mind, a visionary pragmatic man of noble action.

Collin had a burning ambition to succeed against all odds and from relatively humble beginnings his love of learning and sheer hard work helped him to reach the pinnacle of success. He had carcinoma of the lungs and knew his health was deteriorating but managed his illness bravely having lived 75 long and hearty years, young at heart.

We mourn his passing yet remain conscious that all component things are subject to decay. Collin Perera was a versatile Police Officer, a gentleman in a class of his own who has etched his name in the hearts of all who knew him as a distinguished and honoured son of Mother Lanka!

Sarath Dhanapala

Farewell to a fine son of Bandarawela

Don Sarath Abesekera

I was greatly saddened by the demise of my beloved friend, Don Sarath Abeysekera. Our friendship goes back five-and-a-half decades. He was very close to me. Sarath came from a highly respected family in Dowa, a town close to Bandarawela.

He received his education at St. Joseph’s College, Bandarawela, under the strict supervision of Brother Onorius, Brother Rudolph, and Mr. Solomon. He would often talk about these scholarly gentlemen. Sarath excelled in English language and Latin.

After leaving school, Sarath joined the Irrigation Department. This was just after Sri Lanka got its Independence. Sarath served in many parts of the country.

He was a strong Leftist and would not put up with injustice. He used his pen to point out weaknesses in the administration of Bandarawela. He worked hard to clean up the dirty road running through the Bandarawela railway tunnel.

Sarath was a member of Old Hindi Films and Song Lovers Association and had a good collection of books and papers on Uthtar Bharathiya music and cinema. I don’t expect to meet anyone to equal my extraordinary friend. Dear Sarath, good-bye. May you attain the Supreme Bliss of Nirvana.

D.I. Rajapakse

Missing my sister, Chuti Akka

Kamani Priya Abesundara Jayawardena

It is three months since you left us. You have left a deep void in our hearts. We are a big family, and you were a true sister, just three years older than me. We went to school together, shared the same room, got married the same year, and worked for the same airline. You were my trusted confidante, and my friend.

It is hard to believe you are gone. Everything seems so strange without you. I miss all the little things you did to show me you cared, especially the phone call in the morning to ask how I was and what my plans for the day were. Sometimes memories bring comfort and make me smile. Your sense of humour was a source of much fun and laughter at family get-togethers. You expressed your views frankly when necessary.

There is not an hour that goes by without my thinking of my wonderful sister. You may be gone, but you are not forgotten. No words can express the pain of losing you. It was so sad to see you go slowly, during your last illness. There was nothing I could do.You have left behind a wonderful husband and a well brought up daughter.

I will try to find solace in religion and meet you in Sansara to attain with you the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana.

Hichchi (Nirmala Abeysekara)

To our beloved mother

Lady Marian Elizabeth Rodrigo

On her 100th Birth Anniversary

A radiant smile adorned her kindly face
She drew more lives to her with comely grace;
Her heart overflowing extended loving care
To all, yet she had more love to spare.

"To give one's life for the love of a friend
Is the greatest form of love" to expend;
She changed her course other needs to attend,
Her life was fruitful and blessed to the end.

She gave loyal support to her spouse, our dad,
To both their families and projects they did
Discipline and commitment she strictly applied 
To all aspects of her life, till she died.

She was indeed our foremost teacher,
To be good citizens she trained son and daughters
To give of their love even beyond the home
Breaking barriers to reach them, who suffer alone.

'Tis our turn now to show our gratitude,
For being our "Shining Light" we pay her tribute.
While we praise God with thanks we sing along
To our beloved mother we dedicate this song.

From her children and their families.

(Written on their behalf by her daughter Noelyn Fernando.)

Ever the life of the party at the Immigration Department

Bernard Granville Warnesuriye

Mr. O. B. Ratnayake, Honorary General Secretary of the Association of Ex-Immigration Officers of Sri Lanka, conveyed to us the sad news of the sudden demise of the current President of the Association, Bernard Granville Warnesuriye. He passed away in Texas, in the United States, on April 13, while holidaying with his son.

I consider it my duty to pay humble tribute to this genial and versatile gentleman, who endeared himself to one and all. Granville was soft-spoken, gentle, kind, caring and gentlemanly.

He was associated with the Department of Immigration and Emigration for well over three decades. He served as Immigration Officer, Chief Immigration Officer, and finally as Assistant Controller. I had the privilege of working with him closely. He affectionately called me “Nanda.” In days of yore, Immigration Officers were burdened with all kinds of tasks, from arrest and deportation of illicit immigrants to deporting over-stayers. This was in addition to Port duties, which involved night duty. Granville put his heart and soul into any task he was entrusted with. He was a very popular figure in the department.

Every year, we would have a one-month turn of duty at Talaimannar, a sea port that is no longer operative. Having attending to our disembarkation and embarkation duties at the twin-screw ship, the Ramanujam, we had plenty of free time at our disposal. The clerical work was minimal. This is where Granville showed his exceptional worth. He was a skilled raconteur and superb mimic. He provided us mirth with his girth. He was always full of life and fun, and he had a very infectious laugh. I never ever saw him lose his temper. He was our main source of entertainment, and at no cost. This was especially welcome, because Talaimannar was a virtual desert – remote and outlandish.

Granville regaled his colleagues with stories from his past. With his perpetual smile, he would entertain us for hours, over lunch or dinner. He was always upbeat and cheerful. He had an amazing zest for life. Granville was also an accomplished musician. He could play classical music and “oldies” with equal accomplishment. In short, he was a joy to be with. His mental equipoise and warm humanity endeared him to all who associated with him.

He was courteous even to the most junior subordinate. Kindness was the keynote in his character. He was also a model of decorum. His fine temper and quiet sense of humour were invaluable assets to the position he held in the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) as Senior Protection Assistant, a job he took on after serving in Immigration.

Granville was a devoted husband, loving father and a sincere friend. Our happy memories of him will remain etched in our minds. May he rest in peace.

Nanda Nanayakkara

Beyond tears

Ponnuswami Sivakumaran

I was there first,
Then you came along
Two years later.
The sanctum sanctorum
Of our mother’s womb.
Fed by the umbilical cord
With her life-giving blood,
Our divine source.

Remember those rambunctious 
Boyhood days filled with mischief – innocent.
Those meal-time raids on Ma’s kitchen 
To taste food divine;
Remember the treks at crack of dawn 
On Friday mornings to the distant temple,
Little you and I trailing behind Pa. 
Schooldays were another story.
A wholly exciting story
With fond, countless memories.

Years rolled by.
Manhood followed adolescence,
Moved on to the livelihood of two men
Me here in the US of A, 
you holding the fort at home.
You, my dear one,
Were the main stay for Ma when Pa was gone.
Meanwhile, your help for the needy,
Your service to humanity,
Your ever-loving care for the less fortunate
Plus your little charges from the orphanage
Moved you to veritable sainthood;
My chest swelled with pride and joy.

Back here at home in New York,
Those weekly phone calls from afar
Kept us bound together
In a constant embrace.
And now- you have left me
To join our dear Pa and Ma.

Till we meet again,
My darling brother
My sweet saint.

Your adoring Perianna (elder brother )

A friend so dear

Kalzumi Inam

The Rose that lived with thorns
Has withered, leaving behind the 
Fragrance of a life so sweet
For us to remember.

How good she was;
How she used her goodness
To make others happy and gay.

I have seen her in tears,
But she never became the cause
Of any other’s tears.

The depth of her suffering
We shall never know. 
I could hear her faint voice
“ . . . My life is spent with sorrow
And my years with sighing,
My strength fails because of my misery,
And my bones waste away.”

How unfortunate we are, 
We could not repay her smile,
Which she shared with us so abundant ly. 
Now she has gone to eternity
(Although it is too early) –
That is her reward for believing in God.

Her life-suffering and relief at the end
Should be just enough for others
To change their ways

In remembrance of Kalzumi, a friend so dear, so loving, so kind,
so generous. We all miss her.

CBEU, SBI branch

Courageous captain did not live to complete those last chapters

May 19, 2011 marked the 10th death anniversary of Captain Suraj D.Munasinghe, psc of the Sri Lanka Navy. Born on February 18, 1950, he was the fifth child of Tiddy and Rani Munasinghe. A student of St. Sylvester’s College, Kandy, Suraj not only excelled in studies but was also an active member of the Literary Union, the College Debating Team, the Drama Society, etc. In addition, he was a senior prefect and a Cadet officer.

At 19, while studying for his university entrance, Suraj joined the then Royal Ceylon Navy as an Officer Cadet, on July 1, 1969. He was commissioned as a Sub-lieutenant on January 1, 1974. (His batchmates, Mohan Samarasekera, Cecil Tissera and Daya Sandagiri, eventually went on to become Commanders of our Navy).

As a young officer, Suraj held the posts of Commanding Officer, SLNS Tissa, Trincomalee and SLNS Edithara, and Command Operations Officer (West) and (North). Later, he was appointed as Coordinating Staff Officer (Navy) at the Operations Headquarters of the Ministry of Defence.

In the rank of Captain, Suraj served as the Command Operations Officer (East), Commander Southern Naval Area, Commandant-Naval Recruit Training Centre (Boossa), and Commander Western Naval Area. He also served as the Director Naval Personnel and Training at Navy Headquarters, until his retirement from service in 1996. On retirement, he was transferred to the Regular Naval Reserve.
He followed several training courses in India and the US, and the staff course at the Naval Staff College in Rhode Island, in the US.

In recognition of his courage, efficiency, honesty and loyalty to the country, he was decorated with the Republic of Sri Lanka Armed Services Medal, Sri Lanka Armed Services Long Service Medal and Clasp, President’s Inauguration Medal, North and East Operations Medal, Poorna Bhoomi Padakkama, and the Vadamarachchi Operation Medal.

Suraj was a thorough officer and gentleman. He moved with ease and grace among colleagues and subordinates alike. He was always there to help anybody in need, whether it was a family member, a friend, or even a complete stranger.

His courage to face challenges was evident from his early days. It was reported that Suraj, while accompanying a small team of sailors as a raw junior officer, came to the assistance of a helpless woman in a remote area who had given birth. They rushed the mother and the newborn in the Navy vehicle to the safety of the nearest hospital.

He always had a ready smile and a kind word for everyone, was quite ebullient, and at times irrepressible, daring to call a spade “a spade”, no matter the consequences.

Like the Weerasekera brothers, who were a few years junior, Suraj was a talented writer. I was privileged to read many of his writings, including the manuscript of a novel he had started on. Unfortunately, he did not live to complete the concluding chapters of this interesting story.

It is sad that Suraj did not live to see Channa and Jagath, his adored sons, settle down in life, choosing their respective vocations after graduation. However, his untimely death spared him the agony of seeing the prolonged illness of his devoted wife, Hemamala, who stood beside him to the end.

May Suraj attain the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana.

- I.R.

Now she is a bride of Christ

Marie Absalom

Our niece Marie Absalom -- a beautician, dresser of brides, hair dresser, floral arrangement specialist, cake maker and a person of many other multi-faceted talents passed away recently. In her life she beautifully dressed hundreds of brides. We believe, as the Bible says symbolically, that she is now a bride of Christ.

We could not be present at your funeral but I need to say at least now that as a niece you have been very close to me. From the time your mother Chrisy and your father Walwin brought you to their lives my husband Oscar and I were close to your family.

Your kindness, care and love to your family and relatives are what we treasure the most about you. You were there for me when I was sick and you have been a great consolation to me. You have spent many days with me, helping in my needs. You and your husband Raja have worked hard to build your loving family all your life.

In our minds the memory that we will carry of you is kindness, your willingness to help your family, relatives and friends, being there to show your care, concern and love to the people you know. You put your deep religious beliefs into practice as a wife, mother, grandmother, niece, relative and a friend. 
We have no words to describe how much you will be missed.

You have entered the kingdom of Our Lord and the company of the Blessed Mother and all the saints. We will all miss you very much darling Marie as we say goodbye to you. Pray for us as you enter the house of Our Lord. We all love you and you will always be in our thoughts.

Aunty Anna

Salute to sailor who saved many lives on the day of the tsunami

Victor Zoysa

On that tragic Boxing Day in 2004, our friend Victor Zoysa saved the lives of thousands, including our entire family. He was a merchant seaman and probably the only person in the country who had experienced a tsunami first hand, in Valparaiso, Chile, in South America.

He told us later that there too the sea had the flat wave-less appearance we saw that terrible morning, and he knew immediately that trouble was on the way. His first job was to clear the beach, which he did in his usual vigorous fashion. He asked the women and children who had gone down for a dip in the sea to get out, get into their cars and go home. He was just in time.

Grand-daughter Dhatri came running up to the house crying, “Seeya, seeya, the sea is coming.” And so it did. A wall of water, a good 30 feet tall, was moving towards us. There was just time enough for us to take shelter in the house, when it crashed, shattering windows and doors, and roaring over the roof. … 
When the water receded, we all came out to hear Victor shouting that more waves were on the way, and to get out fast.

This area was Victor’s home. He knew the low-lying areas and where we would be safe, above water level. Victor was also a non-commissioned officer on his ship, and a boatswain (pronounced bosun) in the days before electric loudspeakers. He had developed a voice of sufficient power to be heard above the loudest of gales, so he was able to shoo people onto high ground, while standing in one place.

He took a short cut to the main road to stop traffic. When we were making a run for the temple, which was on a rock, I got left behind. Victor yelled to me to take a short cut. I was just in time for Dayan to pull me on to the rock before the second wave struck. Not content with that, Victor grabbed a canoe which was floating about, and filled it with biscuits and sweets for the soaked, miserable folk huddled together inside the temple. I treasure the memory of the two cream crackers he gave me.

Victor could quite easily have taken shelter himself that day, and left us to our fate, but he was not that kind of man. I had met him before and I knew he was someone who was deeply concerned about what was going on in the country. In his retirement, he purchased and ran a couple of private buses. He was involved with the private bus owners’ association and was in Trincomalee when the private bus service opened there.Victor Zoysa received many accolades here and abroad, and he was featured in prestigious magazines, including the Reader’s Digest. But he remained very much the simple but forthright man he was.

Michael, Nilu, Shalini and Dayan Abeyaratne, Manesha Samarasinghe, Aruni Weerasinghe, Dhatri and Chahel.

He was always content with what he had

Dudley Seresinghe

Dudley better known among friends as 'Sere' was known to me from 1964. He was my brother Vere's batchmate when they joined the Sri Lanka Police in 1957 along with several others like J.W. Jayasuriya, Aelian Alahakoon, D.M.T.B. Dissanayake, Gunda, Perinpanayagam, Navaratnarajah, Lal Wewala, Pathirana and others. I came to know him closely from 1970 when both of us served in the Prime Minister's security (Mrs. Sirimavo Bandaranaike) along with C.P. Jayasuriya, Lal Wewala and D.M.T.B. Dissanayake, V.T. Dickman and S.K. Chandrasekera.

Dudley was always an introvert. A simple, humble person, he preferred to take a backseat in any situation. He never liked to hurt people. As a result he was never given his due place or the rightly deserved promotions in the Police Department. He was honest, hardworking and dedicated and always stood by his superiors, often sacrificing his wellbeing for the sake of others.

He was very close to his family. He loved his children dearly- there was a very real incomprehensible bond between them. He had very high moral standards - one could call him a perfect gentleman. 
Dudley became a freelance investigator after retirement and never took short cuts in investigations as I found when he undertook work for my company.

I saw him in the Police Hospital when he suffered a stroke. He never made a fuss about his illness.
He was a sincere friend. He never failed to visit friends who were ill or attend the funerals of friends and relations. I recall the following words which describe his friendship - " like a river friendship works best when it flows unhindered."

He became a Pentecostalist and the final year of his life reflected his Christian attitude in a deep sense of sacrifice, love and care to others. He was always content with what he had and that was a great quality.

May he rest in peace.

Nihal de Alwis

Air Ceylon pioneer pilot ‘Captain Ma’ was a hero to us teens

Captain P. B. Mawalagedera

Captain Punchi Banda Mawalagedara, a pioneer aviator of Air Ceylon, passed away in March this year. He was 90 years.

“Captain Ma”, as he was known to his friends, and as Peter among his British and Australian aviation colleagues, was a distinguished student of St. Anthony’s College, Katugastota. After leaving school, he wanted to become a motor mechanic. However, with the start of World War II, he volunteered to fly for the Royal Air Force (RAF). After initial flying training at Ratmalana, he was sent to the UK and Canada for further training. But by the time his period of training was over, the war was also just ending.

On returning to Ceylon, Mawalagedera decided to resume motor engineering studies. But it was not to be. When the government of the soon-to-be-independent Ceylon started up a national airline, Ceylon Airways, soon to be known as Air Ceylon, he joined the fledgling carrier as First Officer (co-pilot) on the Douglas DC-3 Dakota.

Air Ceylon made its inaugural flight on December 10, 1947. In May/June 1948, Mawalagedera was the co-pilot of a special government charter flight to Sydney, Australia, carrying a Ceylonese naval crew who were going to bring back a trawler bought by the Ceylon Fisheries Department. Thus, P. B. Mawalagedera created history as a member of the first all-Asian flight crew to fly to Australia from any country.

Between 1949 and 1953, Air Ceylon flew international services in partnership with Australian National Airways (ANA), using a pair of Douglas DC-4 Skymaster four-engine airplanes. During that period, First Officer P. B. Mawalagedera often operated domestic and regional DC-3 flights as co-pilot to Capt. Peter Gibbes, a senior ANA management pilot based in Ceylon to oversee the ANA operation.

Several decades later, at his home in Australia, Capt. Gibbes recalled pleasant memories of those halcyon days in Ceylon, flying alongside Mawalagedera and other Ceylonese pilots, such as M. R. (Rex) de Silva, George Ferdinand, Emile Jayawardena, etc.

“Captain Ma” soon earned his command (captaincy) on the DC-3. He was subsequently posted to Amsterdam during the Air Ceylon/KLM Royal Dutch Airlines partnership to fly the Lockheed Constellation and turboprop Electra. Returning to Ceylon at the end of his period of secondment, he became director of the Civil Aviation Examiner for pilots’ instrument ratings in Air Ceylon. Subsequently, he was appointed Assistant General Manager (Operations), while his good friend and colleague, Capt. George Ferdinand, was Manager Operations and Chief Pilot of Air Ceylon.

In 1964, Mawalagedera and Ferdinand were sent to Woodford, Manchester, to ferry-fly a brand-new Avro (Hawker Siddeley) 748 turboprop aircraft to Ceylon (Sri Lanka). It was Air Ceylon’s first wholly-owned turbine (jet)-powered airplane (the aforementioned Lockheed Electra had belonged to KLM).

The Avro’s arrival at Ratmalana Airport on Friday, October 30, 1964. was a “big deal.” There was extensive publicity in the local media, such as it was in those days, including a multi-page supplement in a leading newspaper to mark the occasion. Accordingly, the two pilots who flew the Avro (registered 4R-ACJ) to Ceylon, Captains Mawalagedera and Ferdinand, were feted and hailed as aeronautical heroes.

My former schoolmate and now Assistant Editor of Airways magazine, Roger Thiedeman, recalls: “For a few years after 4R-ACJ arrived in Ceylon for the first time in 1964, Captain Mawalagedera and Captain “Ferdi” (I had the pleasure of making the latter’s acquaintance in Australia 31 years later) were two people I idolised, but always from a distance, the way a teenager might idolise a favourite movie or pop star. Just because they were pilots of Air Ceylon’s new turboprop aircraft.”

It would not be wrong to say that those feelings were the same with all aviation-minded young people in Sri Lanka at the time, this writer included. In 1967, Air Ceylon purchased a second turboprop airliner, this time a French-built Nord 262. But the engines of the Nord were unsuitable for climatic conditions in Ceylon, and proved troublesome and unreliable. So when the airplane was returned to its manufacturers a few years later, the ferry pilots were, once again, Captain Ma and Captain Ferdi, who by now were synonymous with Air Ceylon.

Indeed, one of my lasting memories of Captain Ma – also from a distance – was the day he and Capt. George Ferdinand ferried the new Air Ceylon HS 121Trident three-engined jetliner from Hatfield, UK, in 1969. I was standing on a balcony of the control tower at Bandaranaike Airport, Katunayake, with a few trainee pilots from the Ratmalana flying school. When the crew emerged from the sleek, new tri-jet, to be again greeted with much fuss and fanfare, they instantly became our heroes too.

As an “airport bum” (trainee pilot) at Ratmalana Airport in the late 1960s/early ’70s, I soon got to know Capt. Mawalagedera, who had his office there. Then, with the JVP insurgency in 1971, I joined the Royal Ceylon Air Force (RCyAF) Volunteer Reserve.

One morning, at China Bay, Trincomalee, we received a signal from RCyAF Headquarters, asking us whether we wanted to join the regular Air Force. I requested time until the end of the day to make my decision, then went on an Air Force flight to Palaly/Kankesanturai (KKS).

As luck would have it, I met Captain Ma and his crew, who had just operated an Air Ceylon Avro flight to KKS. I told him I had to decide whether or not to remain in the Air Force. In his characteristic style and no-nonsense voice, Capt. Mawalagedera advised me to get demobilised and apply to Air Ceylon for a pilot’s job.

With yet another inter-airline partnership, this time with French airline UTA in place, Air Ceylon needed at least 100 new pilots. I followed Captain Ma’s suggestion, but after demobilisation from the RCyAF, I remained unemployed for a couple of years. In hindsight, though, given the direction my flying career subsequently took, it was a good move based on sound advice.

After joining Air Ceylon as a First Officer, and immediately after a strike by Air Ceylon pilots, I was elected to the committee of the Pilots’ Guild. With Captain Ma as Assistant General Manager (Operations), we had a love-hate relationship. There was never a dull moment when he was around. I remember his advice to me, as a young “union man”, when one day he gave me a lift home. Another pilot was heard to comment that pilots and Air Ceylon management were in cahoots. “That’s right,” Captain Ma said. “Get to know your enemy before you fight him. Kill the enemy first, before he kills you.”
Controversial though Capt. P. B. Mawalagedera may have sometimes been among the Sri Lankan pilot and airline fraternities, his dedication, professionalism, and contribution to commercial aviation cannot be denied. He will be greatly missed by those who knew and flew with him.

Postscript: Capt. Mawalagedera pre-deceased his wife, Mavis, by only a month. As Mavis Wijeratne, she too made her mark with Air Ceylon on December 10, 1947. But unlike the man who would later become her husband, Mavis’ major contribution was unplanned. As she recounted to Roger Thiedeman and me in August 1997, Mavis was working as a receptionist for the newly-formed Air Ceylon when it was preparing for its inaugural flight. On the day of the grand occasion, the stewardess who had been appointed to crew Air Ceylon’s first official passenger flight took ill. Mavis was urged to take her place – and that’s what she did.

As an untrained stewardess on the inaugural DC-3 Dakota flight to Jaffna/KKS and Madras (now Chennai) and return – flown by Captains Peter Fernando and C. H. S. Amarasekera, Miss Mavis Wijeratne (later Mawalagedera) unwittingly wrote her name in the annals of Sri Lankan commercial aviation history.

Captain G. A. (Gihan) Fernando

From priesthood to human rights, a man of many parts

Joseph Nalin Swaris, an intellectual, historian and critic of art and politics passed away while on a tour of China on April 16. Like his two older brothers Ranjit and Lakshman, Nalin was educated at St. Benedict's College. Soon after finishing his Senior School Examinations he decided to join the priesthood - the Redemptorist Order, studying at St. Alphonsus College, Bangalore, India. After his ordination, he returned to Sri Lanka. He preached in several missions and became a popular figure, because of his outspoken ideas making his sermons interesting.

As one of his friends Quintus Perera pointed out recently Nalin gave up the priesthood and went to the Netherlands in 1969 where he obtained a Master's Degree in the Social Sciences in 1973. He taught Social philosophy and methodology of Community Development at the Senior College for Social Work, De Horst in Driebergen for 17 years. He obtained a Master's Degree cum laude in Religions from the Catholic University of Nijmegen.

In 1990 he began studying the social dimension of the Buddha's Teaching and the study led him to obtain a PhD cum laude for his dissertation Magga, the Buddha's Way to Human Liberation - A Social Historical Approach, by the State University of Utrecht in 2997. Besides teaching, lately he was also involved in human rights activities.

After his retirement from teaching, he was heavily involved in human rights and visited several countries addressing conferences involving these issues. Many of these articles appeared in Dutch newspapers and magazines. He became very fluent in Dutch. Nalin visited Sri Lanka every year for a few months. This year he decided to visit China and his life suddenly came to an end.

LAS, Florida, USA

If love alone could have saved you

Ondray Ephraums

Brother Ondray, we speak your name
With love and pride;
A thousand times we needed you
A thousand times we cried;
If love alone could have saved you,
You would never have died.
We smile through tears we try to hide 
“Thank you”, Brother, for the times we shared,
And the way you cared;
It broke our hearts to lose you,
But you did not go alone – 
A part of us went with you
The day God called you home.

Our angel baby brother, it is one year since you were called to eternal rest, on May 14, 2010.You are fondly remembered by your ever-loving sisters Hermoine, Linda and Helen, brothers-in-law Ranjan, Brian, Roger and the rest of our families, here and abroad.

Hermoine

He transcended linguistic, ethnic and religious differences

M.A. Bakeer Markar

As one who represented the Kalutara District in Parliament I am honoured to pay tribute to M.A. Bakeer Markar on his 14th death anniversary. Alhough I did not have the good fortune of serving together with him in Parliament I got to know him quite well through his son and my friend Imthiaz Bakeer Markar who also served the country as a Parliamentarian and a Cabinet Minister.

Bakeer Markar was born on May 12, 1917 in Beruwela. His father Hakeem Alia Marikar Mohamed Marikar belonged to a family of physicians with an ancestry traced to Sheikh Jamaluddeen Al-Maghdoomi, a pioneer Arab settler in Beruwela. Mr. Bakeer Markar was educated at Zahira College, Colombo where he came under the influence of the great educationist Dr. T.B. Jayah. At school he was an able orator with a good command of not only Tamil but Sinhala and English as well.

Mr. Markar entered the Ceylon Law College in 1942 but had to wait until 1947 to qualify as a proctor due to the intervention of World War II. During the war he joined the Civil Defence Services and was sent to Hyderabad India for specialized training. During this period he also served his alma mater as a teacher for a short time.

At the 1947 general election he played a leading role in the campaign of Dr. Jayah in Colombo Central. Thereafter he became a supporter of the UNP. Mr Markar first entered politics in 1950 when he was elected uncontested as a member of the Beruwela Urban Council. In the first year itself he became the Chairman of the Council.

In March 1960, he contested the Beruwala electorate and was elected to Parliament. However, he was not successful in the July general election the same year. He won the seat in 1965, lost it in 1970 and won it again in 1977 with a thumping majority.

He became the Deputy Speaker of Parliament in August 1977 and within a short time was elected as Speaker. He held this position with dignity and distinction until August 1983, when he was appointed a Cabinet Minister. In June 1988 he resigned from Parliament to serve as the Southern Province’s first governor. He held this position until December 1993.

A singular honour befell him when he was the Speaker. As the then President J.R. Jayewardene and the Prime Minister R. Premadasa had to attend the wedding of Prince Charles and Diana Spencer, Mr. Markar being the next in line was called upon to act for the Head of State. This is the only instance since the 1978 constitution was promulgated that a person other than the Prime Minister was bestowed this honour.

He represented Sri Lanka at the funeral of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat in 1981. He was also awarded the Distinguished Order of Merit by the President of South Korea in 1992. He was one of the many who worked hard to make Sinhala an official language. At a joint conference of delegates from the All-Ceylon Muslim League and the All-Ceylon Moors’ Association held in 1955 he sponsored a resolution to make Sinhala an official language and succeeded in persuading the conference to adopt it unanimously.

A firm believer in unity in diversity, he had the ability to transcend linguistic, ethnic and religious divides. Though he was a Muslim leader, he was able to earn the goodwill and respect of all communities. 
Mr. Markar espoused the cause of national unity with all resources at his disposal. It is heartening to note that his son Imthiaz is continuing the good work started by his father through the Bakeer Markar Centre for National Unity.

He led a full life, serving his religion, people and the country. He died 14 years ago at the age of 80. A man of great character adorned with simplicity and sincerity he endeared himself to all those who had the privilege of associating with him.

May his legacy continue to inspire generations of Sri Lankans. to come.

Tilak Karunaratne

Never thought Daddy would leave us so soon

Dr. Derrick Oswald Nicolle

In memory of my beloved father
It’s been ten long years since you bid me good-bye,
It seems like yesterday;
I find it difficult to forgive myself for not kissing you good-bye,
I never thought you would leave so soon;
Daddy, you were in such good health, but answered God’s call
For your valuable service in God’s Heavenly Kingdom;
There’s not a day that passes that I do not shed a tear for you,
So darling Daddy, I will love you till I meet you some day,
In God’s Beautiful Paradise.

Hazel Anne Nicolle Seneviratne

Only his genius for making things work would have revived an ailing giant like the CWE

Dharni Chandragupta Wijesekera

The last post has sounded, and grief-stricken colleagues and fellow professionals bend their heads in respectful tribute. DCW, chartered accountant “par excellence” and past president, The Institute of Chartered Accountants of Sri Lanka (ICASL), who bestrode the profession like a colossus, has crossed the great divide.

His voice is permanently stilled. A sense of great loss hangs heavy over the profession. It is no easy task to catalogue the multifaceted contributions DCW made to the profession in particular, and the country in general.

DCW’s initial baptism as a chartered accountant was at Shell Company, where he was soon recognised for being an innovative and committed officer. Following the oil company’s takeover, he set up a consultancy firm, Associate Management Services. He was among the first chartered accountants here to introduce information technology as a tool in consultancy practice.

In a short time, Associated Management Services became one of the country’s most sought after consultancy outfits, receiving a steady flow of World Bank and Asian Development Bank assignments. DCW had found his dream career in management consultancy, which took him on a meteoric trajectory. In 1980, DCW reached an agreement with Coopers and Lybrand, UK, where he had had his training two-and-a-half decades earlier.

The result was Coopers and Lybrand, a firm of chartered accountants in Sri Lanka. Devasiri Rodrigo, who had worked at Coopers and Lybrand, joined DCW as a partner. Mr. Rodrigo had the responsibility of building up an audit practice, while Mr. Wijesekera continued his consultancy practice as the precedent partner.

When Pricewaterhouse and Coopers Lybrand merged internationally, the two local firms merged as PricewaterhouseCoopers. Many who received their training under Mr. Wijesekera continue to hold him in awe and refer to him with respect and gratitude. Under his able guidance, PricewaterhouseCoopers rose to be one of the “top three” practising firms in Sri Lanka. Mr. Wijesekera retired from PricewaterhouseCoopers in September 1992, on reaching the age of mandatory retirement.

DCW’s expertise was then sought by the Government, to strengthen the expanding state corporate sector. He was on the committee appointed by the Minister of Finance to review capital structure and the management organisation of corporations.

DCW played a lead role in re-structuring key corporations and strengthening their accounting and management systems. Subsequently, the Government called upon him to shoulder more responsibilities – as a director at Air Lanka, the State Fertiliser Manufacturing Corporation, and the Ceylon Fisheries Harbours Corporation. Deficiencies in these organisations were speedily rectified. DCW successfully dealt with the symptoms and the ills; those were what mattered to him; the causes were of no interest to him.

Perhaps his biggest challenge came when Lalith Athulathmudali appointed him as chairman of the Co-operative Wholesale Establishment (CWE). Here was an ailing giant, crippled by inefficiency and running at a huge loss. DCW accepted the post at a time when public sector business disasters were depressingly rampant. In just a few years, DCW transformed the CWE into a profit-making entity, meeting the country’s basic consumer needs and selling at a fair price.

DCW never saw a state sector organisation as dysfunctional; if properly managed, it would work. That was his motto. This he demonstrated when he pulled the corporate behemoth, the CWE, out of the mess it was in.

DCW had a strong, confident personality. He was totally focused on the tasks at hand, and knew exactly what course of action to follow. As a leader, he was respected for his foresight and organisational competence. He never compromised on his principles. But he was always ready to listen to a contrary viewpoint and evaluate it on its merits.

DCWs’ contribution was not limited to the corporate world. Although first and foremost a professional accountant, he was happy to advise when approached by other professions and academe. He was sought by the medical and engineering sectors, and was on the board of the Postgraduate Institute of Medicine and the council of the University of Moratuwa.

DCW’s contribution to his own profession was outstanding. At the Institute of Chartered Accountants’ inception in 1960, he was appointed a member of the examinations committee. In 1968, he was appointed a member of the council of the Institute, serving on several committees. In 1978, he was elected president of the Institute of Chartered Accountants, a position he held until the end of 1981.

Advancing age did not mellow or slow down DCW. His quest to expand and update his knowledge continued unabated. Often, he visited the ICASL members’ lounge to read The Wall Street Journal. 
In September last year, I accosted him as he was hurrying along Bullers’ Lane. He held in his hand a book with a blue cover. It was “Blue Ocean Strategy”, the book that had taken the management world by storm, challenging the conventional foundations of strategic success.

“Lal, read this book,” he told me. “It is a masterpiece. But remember that contrary to what the book suggests, there are no separate blue and red oceans in the business world. There is only one big ocean, where blue and red currents crisscross all the time.”

That was typical of DCW’s skeptical, analytical style, which informed the range, depth and quality of his knowledge. On occasion, DCW’s cavalier, no-nonsense style could be provocative. He would sometimes lose his temper, and this would alienate the more conservative-minded. Subordinates and colleagues were also occasionally at the receiving end of his verbal onslaughts.

DCW, the stubborn, dictatorial boss in the office, was full of charming banter outside the office, and the “boss” continued to command respect and affection. He was more intent on solving problems than following rules; while this may have drawn criticism from some, it earned the respect of others.

DCW deserves all the encomiums and plaudits he gets for an outstanding performance. His résumé is impressive and weighty. He chose not to follow the beaten track, but the path strewn with challenges. His pragmatic approach and perseverance brought him fame and success. He illuminated the accountancy profession for more than five decades. A beautiful innings has come to an end.

DCW’s philosophy can be summed up in lines from W. E. Henley’s celebrated poem, “Invictus”:

“It matters not how strait the gate, 
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.”

Lal Nanayakkara

A medical marvel who had many other interests

Dr. Percy de Zilwa was born on February 4, 1917 and often reminded his friends that we could never forget his birthday because of Sri Lanka's independence day. He died a few weeks after his 94th birthday.

On April 30, 1970 he suffered his first myocardial infarct and in December the same year he had his second myocardial infarct. He was treated at Prince Henry's Hospital in Melbourne - a hospital that has long since ceased to exist although Percy kept going there for some 40 years since then. He was then treated with Warfarin, Atromid and as he said a "sensible diet".

Many years later he was tried on a "statin" to which he reacted violently and it was later discovered that he, his brother Jim and the rest of the family were all intolerant to "statins". He carried on in spite of high LDL and total cholesterol levels.

Percy had many different medical appointments in his life time. He worked in the orthopaedic clinic in Colombo, and in Melbourne he was for many years in the school health service. He maintained an interest in medicine even after his retirement and often alerted me to the possibility of a side effect of some medication - he picked up the latest edition of MIMS from me.

But Percy's medical background was just one facet of his long and varied interests in life. His knowledge of religions apart from Christianity was astounding - he could name so many sects and how they came to be formed.

Trinity College was his school above all other learning institutions. He will long be remembered for the exchange scheme he started with Wesley College in Melbourne. Many are the students who first visited Australia because of Percy's effort and some of them are now domiciled in Australia.

Percy was also closely associated with several clubs in Melbourne and the A.C.F. was his pride and joy for many a year. His one lament in later years was that there weren't younger generations who could keep these clubs going.

He was recently upset when he read that an award I had received in Sri Lanka had spelt my name incorrectly - he told me that a jeweller whom he knew could correct the spelling on a bronze plaque that I had received! That was Percy at his immaculate best.

Those of us who knew Percy as a friend and for many years as a patient - will always remember his happy smile and jovial disposition. There will always be only one Dr. Percy.

Quintus de Zylva

A dedicated teacher who left an indelible mark at Thurstan College

Arty Walter Pathiraja

Arty Walter Pathiraja belonged to a distinguished family from Suriyagama, Kadawata, his father being the late D.D. S Pathiraja and his mother Eugene de Saram. His passing away has created a void which will be difficult to fill. He will be missed by all who had the good fortune of knowing him.

He will be long remembered for his outstanding record as a teacher at Thurstan College, and his successful teaching career of over 30 long years. His wife Anula was also from a well known family in Ratnapura, and was an illustrious teacher herself. She gave him the unstinted support he needed in the work he was involved in.

They played a very happy supportive role in the upbringing of their children, who repaid them in full measure by reaching great heights in their respective professions. Mr Pathiraja’s contribution towards the progress of the school was not limited to the academic side, which he did with much integrity and commitment, but also extended to the field of sports, specially cricket.

He gave generously of his time and guidance to the students. It was during the tenure of my husband, the late P. S. Gunasekara as Principal of Thurstan College that I had the privilege of knowing Mr Pathiraja. I was attached to the Department of Education, Green Path as In-service Advisor for English in schools in the Colombo region. Mr. Pathiraja took great pains to improve the quality of English in the schools and stressed the need to converse in English fluently.

Unassuming, but asserting himself as and when the need arose, he will be remembered at Thurstan throughout the years with deep gratitude and affection for those of his calibre are rare today. After his retirement he was invited to assist in various functions in the school office, which I believe he was ready to perform.

He was popular among the staff and students and much respected. He was unassuming and bore no malice towards anyone. He had a keen sense of humour which evoked much fun and laughter in the company of friends.

I extend my deepest condolences to his dear wife, Anula, children and families.

“ Nama gottam nagirathi”

May he attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana.

Irene Gunasekara

Gentle yet iron-willed principal who gave us lot more than a sound education

Rev. Sister Rosina Nanayakkara

I write with great respect and pride for my beloved principal Sister Rosina Nanayakkara though I might have been one of the naughtiest pupils, during her time.

Sister Rosina passed away on January 11 this year . And on January 13 we had a day of reunion and nostalgia in the city of Galle with past pupils of Sacred Heart Convent from various parts of the country, principals, staff and students of other leading schools in the city, politicians, clergy and of course the past pupils of St. Aloysius College, our brother school gathering to pay their last respects.

Any words I can use to describe or remember Sister Rosina seem inadequate. Having been born to a Buddhist family and being a practising Buddhist myself, I respect other religions while retaining faith in my religion. It is an attitude I learnt from Sister Rosina. Even though a Catholic nun herself, Sister Rosina made sure we Buddhists attended our rituals and sermons whenever they were conducted in the school.

I remember she even went to the extent of making sure the children not only removed their shoes but their socks too during religious observances. I remember this vividly as I was pulled up once for not removing my socks at a sermon. But I obviously had to keep my toes "under cover" as they were painted in a colour that I was certain would not have impressed Sister Rosina had I removed my socks in her presence, not to mention my two sterling silver toe rings.

The strict disciplinary code maintained by her in the school not only forced us to do the right thing, but also left us with loads of memories to carry with us after we left our alma mater. Despite numerous punishments for not tying up my hair, I still "let my hair down", although at times it used to "get in someone's hair"!

The undisputed, assertive partnership she had with our most loved vice-principal Elizabeth Senanayake is still talked of, not forgetting them being nicknamed by the Aloysians as the "doubala" (meaning a pair). The two of them set a perfect example of lasting friendship.

Sister Rosina taught us how to be courageous in a crisis without losing one’s dignity. I remember but not much of that unpleasant day in 1988, during the youth unrest in the south when students of leading schools in Galle were asked to take to the streets. SHC remained the only school that didn't fall into the hands of the ‘rioters’.

Sister Rosina took care of our physical safety. While some students were manhandled and verbally abused, I was one of the relatively lucky ones who managed to hide under a table in the music room. Although the school was left with a smashed chapel, ruined garden and messed up classrooms, when I came out of hiding, I witnessed children getting picked up by the parents as if it was another ordinary day in the school calendar. This is how Sister Rosina put such chaos in order.

A member of the School Development Council for a number of years and having close association with the school, my father called her the “Iron Lady”. Although the physical resemblance was quite contrary to that, I believe what he meant was her courage.

Growing up in the beautiful city of Galle, with a pampered upbringing, and a lot of mischief in school, there are two things I carry from my wonderful childhood that no one or nothing can take a way - beautiful memories and a good education. Sister Rosina will always remain in my memory as "unique".

Wathsala de Silva

A true physician with a heart of gold

Dr. H. Z. G. Oswald Senanayake — A tribute on his 100th birth Anniversary

Hubert Zachias Gerard Oswald Senanayake was born the 11th to his proud parents Don Eusthakius Johannes Senanayake and Elizabeth Prera on May 2, 1911. He was the youngest brother of Gracelyn, Cyril, Beatrice, Lily, Winifred, Pearl and Ruby. Three more brothers had passed away at a very young age.

Having lost his father at a tender age, Oswald was ably cared for by his mother who passed away eventually. The boy commenced his education in his hometown at the Kandawala Primary School, then went on to St. Mary's Negombo for his secondary education and finally to St. Joseph's College, Colombo.

At St. Joseph’s he won many a prize, became a Greek scholar and took up teaching Greek. He was a keen Cadet and member of the Volunteer Force. He was no mean sportsman, playing soccer for college on the left flank. His prowess included a curling left which hit the back of the net, long before maestro Pele was born! He also played tennis and was a good swimmer.

Then came a different calling – to take to medicine and specialise in tuberculosis, for his father had died of TB in an era when there was no cure for this deadly disease.

Being selected to university to pursue a course in classics, as he was proficient in Sinhala, English, Greek, Latin, French, German and Russian, he decided to change course with the help of his good friend K. George N. Fernando who was a medico. To this unorthodox proposition, the then Rector of St. Joseph’s, Fr. Legoc the legend himself, called it a Herculean task. Oswald did change course and qualified as a medical doctor in 1931.

A specialist he became in TB in addition to being a Child Specialist, Chest Specialist and tireless Physician in government service, transferred from one corner of the country to another. In 1942, he married Maysie Regina Frances Goonetilleke who had to move house 150 miles all the way from Deniyaya to Kandawala. He shared his life with her for the next 48 years and we were the half dozen offspring -- Priyadarshini, Dharini, Sriani, Rohan, Susantha and Hasita.

His dedication to treating TB patients was amazing. He was in charge at the Anti-Tuberculosis Institute at Kehelwatte, Colombo 11 and before that the mainstay at the Welisara Chest Hospital. He was also the first Medical Officer of Health at the Kandana Chest Hospital.

After retiring from government service, he came back to the village he loved, Kandawala, and began practising from his ancestral home, Senanayake Walauwe in 1964, soon after opening his second surgery in the heart of Negombo.

His surgery not only provided free consultations but also free medicines both day and night to those who could not afford to pay. He was a true physician with a heart of gold in contrast to those engaging in thriving private practice these days.

Not too happy about disturbing his staff at midnight, he even trained one of his offspring to assist him in his dispensary after office hours! His hunger for new methods of treatment took him back to Britain where he studied psychiatry in Manchester and subsequently worked at Prestwich Hospital. On his return to Sri Lanka he also took up acupuncture. Invited by the Parish Council of the church in his area, he became an active member, serving as its Hony Secretary. His donations to the church were many.

He also contested the Village Council election, narrowly losing to the sitting member. Heading the co-op movement as its chairman, he introduced incentives including the ‘deep-litter system’ to the poultry farmers.

Banking at the doorstep he brought to the village, facilitating the opening of the first rural bank at Kandawala. Having lived in the ‘kuppi lampuwa era’ he pioneered efforts to blow out the bottle-lamp and introduce electricity to the whole of Kandawala.

A keen planter, Oswald not only developed his ancestral property at Kandawala but also bought prime coconut land at Bingiriya. He planted a wide variety of fruit trees in his home garden, the succulent yield of which we still enjoy. He also ventured into paddy cultivation to make at least our family self-sufficient in this staple.

He had business acumen too and I remember his stories on how he paid for his medical degree by making bricks in his garden and selling them. Later in life, he installed a brand new coconut fibre mill at Kandawala. Ever charitable, he donated school books to the children of the mill workers to encourage them towards education which he dearly cherished.

He also pioneered a fisheries project in Pitipana, Negombo with his bosom buddies H. Cyril Fonseka and Proctor Marshal Fernando. This doctor turned architect and builder also constructed three houses in Negombo with bricks manufactured in his own backyard.

Ever-willing to share his knowledge, he ventured into writing, believing that someone out there will benefit. His writings included ‘Manna for the Hungry’, ‘Let Your Golden Age Dawn at 70 Years’ (translated to Sinhala on numerous requests), ‘Conversations about Sri Lanka around the World’ and ‘Happier Marital Sex Life for The Able & Less Able’. He even re-printed and distributed his learned father's historic ‘First Book of Sinhala Grammar’.

After battling diabetes for decades when he bade goodbye on July 17, 1990, his last publication was being translated to his mother tongue.

The trademark of this man of many achievements was his laugh. He never showed anger to anybody.
Now his children look back affectionately on his love and care, we cherish his guidance and advice and we are justifiably proud of his awesome achievements. We believe he is out there with the Lord Almighty, watching over us every minute!

Susantha the fifth

Wonderful memories of ‘Lavender Lady’

Countless memories of my favourite aunt; Daphne de Soysa, which are stored deep in the recesses of my heart keep flooding my mind, after her death. Her husband, Uncle Cecil, was one of my father’s favourite cousins and my father was their doctor as well. I first saw her when I was a teenager and she brought her children to consult my father about their childhood ailments. I always admired her grace, dignity and charm long before I got to know her well.

This happened much later, after my marriage; when she and Uncle Cecil were constant visitors at my maternal Uncle Abhaya’s home as he and Uncle Cecil were close friends. To get to know her was to love her and we met often; I was closer to her than to my own mother, and she was my guide, philosopher and friend. Both of us together, planned and organized the homecoming for my cousin Romesh and his bride Nelun at Uncle Abhaya’s home.

She was the daughter of W.P.H. Dias of Panadura and educated at Ladies’ College; a perfectionist to her fingertips, a brilliant hostess and asset to her husband in a myriad ways. I recall the many parties she organized for family birthdays and get-togethers, each one was with a special theme which was carried out to the very letter, in food, dress and decor. If she gave you a recipe, every piece of meat or vegetable was cut to the exact size, and she insisted that one kept to all this detail.

Her husband was the rock on which she built her life and she took time to come to terms with her loss, and out of her grief and anguish. After Uncle Cecil’s death, she expressed a wish to go to Yala, so my late husband and I took her there. It was a real holiday for me, as she took it on herself to organize all the food, menus and so on, which were all of high gourmet standard. We went on many trips together, and she would always organize the food part of it; to give me a rest from housekeeping.

She was the gracious chatelaine of her home, her husband’s devoted wife and confidante, a wonderful mother, grandmother and mother-in-law. As a mother, she was the ideal receptacle for her children’s dreams and ambitions; which became hers too.

Before she was confined to her bed, she was an indefatigable organiser of many charity projects and events, and for the Anglican Church. These were inspired and encouraged by both her husband and her brother-in-law, the late Bishop Harold de Soysa. After her husband’s death, she gave away all her coloured clothes and came out of black and white into grey. After that she stuck to all shades of purple from lilac, mauve and lavender….my nickname for her was ‘Lavender Lady’.

She was of immense strength to me when my husband died, spent hours with me, and was a strong shoulder for me to lean on through those difficult times.

To her children, right through her life; till her last years, she was an omnipotent being, a protector and miracle worker. She had a unique devotion to order, propriety and conservatism. She loved all her children; but was particularly close to Sunil and Dayani, who lavished tender, loving care on her.

As one who loved her, I find myself with special memories of her that have nowhere to go, dreams of her that will never be fulfilled. But what matters is that I have them; however whimsical or impossible they may seem. My one regret is that she couldn’t live her last years, or lie in death in her own home, in which she spent such happy times with her family.

“A perfect woman, nobly planned, to guide, to comfort and command”.

Ilica Malkanthi, Karunaratne

That sweet voice will now join the choirs of angels

Lankika De Livera

Four girls burst out loud into song, while walking along the pavement of the Colpetty junction in Colombo.

“I'm born again, I feel free
No longer alone
A bright light is shining
And shows me a world that I own…..”

We were sweet sixteen. Bishopians. Carefree. Happy and oblivious to the scorching heat of the mid-day sun. Oblivious to the weight of the books we carried home after school. Oblivious to the stares of the passers-by….

Lanki led the singing with her sweet soprano voice. Nisha and Sharmini harmonized in different parts. I joined in spontaneously.

Those were the days of Boney- M, Abba, Bee Gees… Life was full of laughter and fun. Lankika De Livera, and I studied in parallel classes from kindergarten till the O’levels at Bishop’s College. She became my close friend when we were in the A’ level class, studying History and English together. 
Lanki and I spent many hours together since then. She was quiet and was in the background of things. I was more in the forefront of school activities. But we forged a strong bond of friendship.

I was a risk-taker. She was pensive and cautious. She gave me sound advice. I was always busy. She urged me to find time to join her in reaching out to the less fortunate, the old and feeble, poor people, colleagues who had problems at home. She also demonstrated to me the importance of being patient and trying to understand the problems of others.

At the Interschool Shakespeare Drama Competition, Lanki was Lysander and I Hermia , the lovers in “Midsummer Night’s Dream”. Lanki held my hand and gently led me up the steps leading upto the stage in the darkness as I had to remove my spectacles and could not see my way. She ensured that I did not trip as I entered the stage.

Lanki loved everything that was beautiful- wildlife, nature, music, song, poetry, books, drama….She opened up the marvels of many wondrous works of art and nature to me. She used to often send a dainty card with a handwritten verse to cheer or inspire a friend or someone in need. I was often a recipient of such thoughtfulness.

Lanki excelled in singing. I was overjoyed when she decided to take part in the senior solo singing competition at school and asked me to accompany her on the piano. What fun we had practising for endless hours on the old pianos at the Bishop’s College music rooms or at her home or mine. She gave a magnificent rendering of “The Holy City” and “Hark Hark the Lark” by Schubert and was adjudged the first runner up.

Our friendship grew after we left school. I entered the Kelaniya University. Lanki entered Law College. 
I embarked on journalism at “The Island” newspaper and following my advice, she applied to “The Sun” newspaper. I accompanied her for the interview and waited for her downstairs while she met the editor upstairs. She returned after a successful interview. We were both thrilled!

As journalists working for two separate newspapers, we shared experiences. We also went on many assignments together to provide coverage for our respective newspapers. We both covered the Arts and Culture round. We went to many concerts together and many trips out of Colombo to cultural and archaeological sites.

We also had our own separate interests. I was adventurous and keen on the excitement of investigative reporting, she preferred travel, wild life and nature. Lanki introduced me to her friends at Law College. We went together for many Law College events and parties and she joined my Kelaniya University friends at get-togethers.

Lanki and her mother were regular visitors at our home for Christmas. She made Christmas special for us with her beautiful singing of carols. My family and I enjoyed the Sinhala and Tamil New Year festivities at Lanki’s home.

Enjoying our newfound independence and freedom as journalists and undergraduates, Lanki and I roamed around Colombo – Lanki driving her mother’s Volkswagon. Lanki and I planned lavish celebrations for our 21st birthday parties. Mine did not materialize and ended up in a quiet affair with my family and Lanki.

Lanki’s party took place at a resort on the Mount Lavinia Beach. I spent the whole day with her decorating the place. I also made the dessert for the occasion. Lanki was swept off her feet when she met Prasanna Panditharatne. She gave up her studies in law to marry Prasanna. She also gave up journalism.

She did her best as a young bride. She cooked for her husband and kept a resplendent home. 
But the fairy tale ended. Prasanna and Lanki realized that they were not compatible. Lanki’s life was soon clouded with sorrow.

However, the birth of a bonny baby boy, offered hope. He became the centre of Lanki’s life. She went to great lengths to ensure that he had a happy childhood. Lanki and Prasanna separated and went their different ways but both did their best for their son.

Lanki remarried eight years ago. I was the only friend she invited for the quiet wedding dinner. Lanki devoted all her time and effort to her new husband and child but failed to find happiness. During the last couple of years, Lanki suffered from depression. She was overcome with sorrow and worry. She returned to her mother’s home a few weeks ago.

When she called me in her distress, I did my best to help her, comfort her, to give her hope for the future. I took her to prayer meetings. She told me that she gained a lot of comfort from the prayer meetings and promised to keep coming.

I dropped Lanki at her mother’s gate after the prayer meeting on Wednesday night, April 6 . She gave me and my daughter hugs and kisses as she left, promising to come again with us on Sunday. She looked so pretty, in a bright yellow blouse as she stood at her gate and waved to us.

On Saturday, April 9, I got a call to inform me that Lanki was dead. Her mortal remains were cremated on Sunday, April 10 at the Mount Lavinia Cemetery Many of our classmates from Bishop’s College and her friends from Law College were there amidst the large gathering of relatives and friends.

As I left the funeral, my mind was filled with memories of Lanki, standing on the Bishop’s College stage singing the verse from “The Holy City”. 
“And once again the scene was changed;
New earth there seemed to be;
I saw the Holy City
Beside the tideless sea;
The light of God was on its streets,
The gates were open wide,
And all who would might enter,
And no one was denied.
No need of moon or stars by night,
Or sun to shine by day;
It was the new Jerusalem
That would not pass away.
Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Sing for the night is o'er!
Hosanna in the highest!
Hosanna for evermore!”

I knew that for my dearest friend Lanki, there would be no more sorrow and depression. Lanki had finally reached the holy city, where she would sing hosanna for evermore with the angels!

Manique Mendis

Adieu to a Toastmaster par excellence, and dear friend

Paddy Gunasekara

It was eight o’clock and we had just finished our fortnightly meeting. As always I watched him descend the stairs slowly. As he reached the bottom step he smiled apologetically and said; “Young lady, I am not as quick as I used to be.” I was quick to reply that he was the healthiest 84-year-old I knew…..maybe I spoke too soon.

Paddy Gunasekara or CTM (Competent Toastmaster) Paddy Gunasekara as he was known among the Toastmasters fraternity passed away on January 21 this year. His loss was a shock to all those who knew him and extremely saddening to those of us who loved and cherished this beautiful man. As his third month remembrance drew close I thought it fitting to write about this extraordinary individual who has inspired my life.

I met Mr. Gunasekara or Paddy as we fondly called him back in 2006 when I joined a speech crafters programme conducted by CIMA. I found Paddy to be extremely fascinating from the very first moment I met him. His passion for Toastmasters, his sense of humour, and love for life was apparent in all what he did.

He was a founder member of the Colombo Toastmasters Club, a pioneering figure who introduced the art of public speaking to Sri Lanka in the early 1980s when many of us were still in our nappies. His love and dedication to the Toastmasters movement did not end there for till the very end he remained an active member, present at all functions, mentoring and coaching clubs and members and always ready to help. Although Paddy was not a member of the CIMA Toastmasters Club which he helped to set up he was always there, earlier than most of us greeting us with his charming smile and warm hug. He was often teased for being more of a member of the club than some actual members were, so when the current club president decided to recognize his contribution to our club by making him an honorary member of CIMA Toastmasters Club our response was unanimous.

I remember how proud and happy he was that day. Paddy had a great sense of duty. He took everything he did seriously whether it was a simple speech evaluation or being present as a judge at a contest he would be well prepared. He would never let anyone down and was dependable. I was shocked to hear that he had gone to great lengths to actually call up to apologize for not making it to a meeting when he was still recovering in the intensive care unit. That was how duty conscious he was.

Paddy was our grammarian at every meeting and he knew how to change a boring role of being the grammarian into a role that everyone envied. He would introduce a new word every day and many a time he would bring up a word that created much mayhem. How he secretly chuckled as we roared with laughter listening to other toastmasters enjoy playing with the word. He certainly knew how to make the meetings interesting and was always ready to have some good fun.

He never ceased to amaze me with his wealth of knowledge. You maybe an 18 -year- old or in your grand seventies but he could be just as comfortable with anyone speaking on any topic for he was well read and updated about everything that went on around him. I never knew someone who was so young at heart as Paddy. His body may have been weak, his step slow but he had a young heart for no one felt out of place around him.

Paddy to me was a great friend, someone I could look towards when I needed advice or support. He was always there and ever willing. He was direct with his views yet so considerate of how one felt. If I have learnt a thing or two about the art of good public speaking then a significant amount of the credit is owed to him. I will remember him for all the times he’s held my hand before a contest re-assuring me that all will go well and been the first to come and cheer me up when all didn’t go so well.

Paddy, you have been a beacon in guiding so many of us and you worked tirelessly to make Toastmasters what it is today. You shall be forever remembered for that but most of all we will remember you for who you were, the simple humble man who gave all he could to what he loved. We loved you then and we love you now and we always will. So long my friend…

Probodini Senavirathne

Be honest, be humble – that was how father brought up his family

Lucian De Alwis

April 9 would have been my father’s 100th birthday. An old Josephian, civil lawyer, JPUM (Justice of Peace and Unofficial Magistrate), acting District Judge Mount Lavinia, father had character and personality. He was a professional in the fullest sense. He stood strong on his principles when it came to decision making, and worked almost to the very end, until his death at the age of 88.

His mission in life was very simple: “Be honest! Be humble!” He chose a simple lifestyle, and tackled life’s challenges calmly. He was a down-to-earth, friendly person. Junior lawyers affectionately called him “Uncle”, and they valued his advice and guidance. And we, his children – my father had 11 children, six daughters and five sons – valued his way of life and we incorporated his mission in our lives too.
My father strongly believed in education. He was very proud that all his sons were professionals, but more importantly that we cherished the values he did.

With regard to his daughters, his primary concern, in the family tradition, was to find them the best of husbands. He wanted the best of sons-in-law. In this he succeeded, and so we have brothers-in-law who have always stood by the family.

My father’s mission continues in the next generation, in his grandchildren. My father left behind 25 grandchildren, ranging in age from 39 to six years. It is with pride that we look upon these young men and women who have excelled here in Sri Lanka and also overseas.

Behind my father’s success was my mother, Monica de Alwis, who raised 11 children and supervised the bringing up of most of her grandchildren. All this came thanks to the solid foundation my father laid down. He was strong enough to hold up many more generations to come. He taught us that more important than financial strength is strength of character. He taught us to face life with honesty and humility. This was the secret behind the success of Lucian de Alwis’s family. In return, God has given in abundance.

Thaatha, generations to come will look upon you as not only a successful lawyer but an honest, humble man who worked tirelessly, and in silence.

Vasantha

The cadet master who moulded us into men

Lt. Col. Senaratne first appeared in the corridors of Zahira College, Gampala when we were growing into our teens. Not a person to show off, he earned the respect of the students and the staff by his simple but highly disciplinary conduct. Our college was open to boys and girls from all communities.

Apart from being our art teacher, Lt. Col. Senaratne was our cadet master. He was able to mould a bunch of mischievous young boys into one of the smartest platoons among the schools. The key to his success was his dedication and no-nonsense approach. The values we learnt from him have given us the confidence and courage to face the world today.

The camping trips to Diyatalawa were much looked forward to by those who were brave enough to endure the rigours of on-the-field training in the hot sun. We had much fun travelling in the train exclusively for cadets. It started from Colombo and reached Diyatalawa after midnight.

Lt. Col. Senaratne taught us how to spit and polish our shoes and belts and wear the uniform correctly as it all was part and parcel of being a good cadet. Always stiff and upright, Lt. Col. Senaratne was a first-class cadet master. He was respected by all in the service as a distinguished officer. On special occasions, he was seen in full uniform with a shining sword with which he conducted the guard of honour. His personality was a huge influence on us. To emulate his style, we did try, but he was unique.

I can recall, we had in our midst cadets Seneviratne, Radhakrishnan, Talwatte, Samad, Pelpola, Marzookdeen (Sergeant), Sisira Gunawardena, Zaveer, Hussain, F.D. Jayah, Razik Ismail and many others, whom I cannot name due to lack of space. Cadet Seneviratne confused left with right. When the sergeant shouted ‘left turn’, Seneviratne turned right going on his own when the platoon had turned left. It was all high fun.

When I saw Lt. Col. Senaratne’s appreciation in the Sunday Times, I felt sad that I had not met him ever since I left college even though I wanted to so many times. I write this tribute on behalf of all those Gampola Zahira College cadets who were fortunate to have been trained by him. We owe him at least a few words of gratitude for moulding us into men who are able to stand on our own. Lt. Col. Senaratne has left an indelible mark in our lives.

We salute you Sir and may you have peace.

Akram Mukhtar

Memories of rain holidays and melt-in-the-mouth toffees

Pathmasany Manickavasagar( nee Paramanathan)

Memories of my dear cousin Pathma go back to the early 1930s when Father left for UK to do his M.Sc. Mother and us children were left with our grandparents. Pathma's family too was living there, so we grew up together.

On Father's return he was transferred to Jaffna. At that time Pathma joined us as it was difficult for her to travel to school from her home in Puloly. When we were living in Jaffna, Father admitted my sister Kamala, Pathma, and myself to the Chundikuli Girls' College. At Chundikuli Pathma’s dramatic talent was recognized by Miss. Niles and she was chosen for the priest's role in the play "Harichandra Nadagam" which she played with great aplomb. The play was also taken to Colombo and was a great success.

When Father assumed duties in Galle, we joined Sacred Heart Convent where the nuns apart from the academic side introduced us to various aspects of sewing especially cross-stitch and smocking. Her interest in sewing remained with her.

Subsequently, when Father was transferred to Colombo we entered Methodist College and Pathma completed her secondary education there. While she was at Methodist College she made many friends and enjoyed her schooldays. On rainy days it was the custom for the teachers to ascertain the actual number of students who had turned up to decide whether a "Rain Holiday" should be declared.

Pathma and her classmates being well aware of this practice would hide themselves in the long wooden boxes that were meant for the storage of hats, as well as in the toilets to reduce the head count. Once the "Rain Holiday" was declared they would all come out and run riot getting wet, till they decide to go home.

Pathma also had the ability to get on with people and enjoyed their company as much as they appreciated hers. As such, she acquired many lifelong friends among her school friends and neighbours.

One of her many interests was cooking and her specialities which we all remember with nostalgia are the flaky perfectly made "Boli" and the melt-in-the-mouth milk toffees. Her strong will power, sense of humour, devotion to Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba and above all faith in God gave her the ability to meet the challenges which she had to face in life.

When Pathma passed away it was an irreplaceable loss not only to her beloved children Ragu and Selvi and their families but also to her brother Satchi, his wife Sivapackiam and nephews, nieces, numerous cousins, friends and neighbours.

To the members of the Subramaniam clan and the Arulnandhy family it was the loss of a beloved sister and we pray for her Athman to repose at the Holy Feet of Lord Shiva.

Manie Thiruvathavoorar (nee Arulnandhy)

Role model mentor who fought to make Matale Science College a model school

T. D. Hannan

We were greatly saddened by the news of our dear teacher Mr. T. D. Hannan’s demise. The funeral was held on a week day, within 24 hours of his passing away, so none of us, his former students at Matale Science College, were able to pay our last respects, except to say a silent prayer in his memory.

As I sat down to write this tribute, and place on record my heartfelt gratitude to my teacher, many thoughts flashed through my mind. It was Mr. Hannan who came in search of me, along with my elder brother, when I suddenly left my boarding to stay with a friend at Galewela. I had been missing from school for several days.

Mr. Hannan brought me back and helped me regain my confidence. Through his wise counselling, and under his guidance, I was able to resume my studies, despite my strong dislike for academic work. I remember drawing diagrams on the blackboard while he took the Advanced Level biology class. As a junior student, I was proud to display my skill at his request.

Mr. Hannan was one of the people who drew out the potential in me at a time when I was confused and straying aimlessly as a youth. He even worked behind the scenes to have me appointed as a school prefect. Truly, becoming a prefect was a turning point in my life.

Such seemingly little things went a long way to form my character. Mr. Hannan was a disciplinarian, an honest person who acted true to his conscience, and carried himself with dignity, and never went after money. His influence has contributed in no small measure to helping me carry out my duties as a public servant and judicial officer.

It was Mr. Hannan who, as Director of Education in Matale, cited me as a “worthy product of Matale Science College”, when he took a stand against a move by the authorities to amalgamate the school with Vijaya College. He wanted to protect the MSC identity, and hold up the school as a model educational institution.

Some of us, his former students, were planning to visit him again at his residence, but fate prevented that from happening.

Mr. Hannan was an exemplary teacher, an educationist of high repute, sought after by many, including the former Minister of Education, Badiudeen Mohamed, who appointed him Principal of Gampola Zahira College, where the Minister himself was the Principal at one time.

At a time when our society is experiencing a decline in values, persons of the calibre of our guru – the late Mr. Hannan – should be remembered. Such people are role models for the younger generation.

U. Mapa

Young at heart, life and soul of the party, and a life dedicated to service

Elana Seneviratne

Elana Seneviratne passed away a few weeks ago, at the age of 90. I am proud to say that her adult life was wholly dedicated to the service of others.

She was a founder member of the YAH (Young At Heart) CLUB, Mount Lavinia. Later, when the club took shape, she became its leader and guiding force. She would arrive every Monday, dressed in smart, colourful kits. She would start the day by getting the members to say a brief prayer, and this would put everyone in a good mood.

After the one-word prayer, there would be a string of interesting activities: the singing of hymns and old songs, the reading of jokes, and the performing of skits. Elana encouraged all to take part. She did not want to be the centre of attention all the time. She took a personal interest in all who came to YAH. Thanks to Elana’s warmth and generosity, several members who were shy and retiring by nature overcame their shyness and took great pleasure in participating in the Club’s activities.

At 10.30 a.m., everyone was served a nice cup of tea. Very often, Elana would serve treats in the form of cakes. Her generous example inspired others to do the same, and treats were brought in to celebrate birthdays.

So Monday morning became an enjoyable treat for everyone who came. No money was charged, and only voluntary contributions were accepted. To me, the YAH Club symbolised Elana. When she passed away, these words came to my mind:

“When you are gone, Elana,
There’ll be many days of grief;
Many will remember, And only a few will forget. And at the YAH Club on Monday There’ll be a gap none can fill.”

Gertrude de Livera

Thank you mummy for the complete love you gave us all

‘Do not go gentle into that good night’

The above line from a poem by Dylan Thomas, kept reverberating in my mind as I watched over our mother during her last days.

‘Do not go gentle into that good night 
Old age should burn and rave at close of day.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light’

Indomitable in spirit and unyielding, she stayed defiant to the last, - the characteristic of a woman with a fighting spirit who always confronted the challenges which life threw in her way.

Our mother, Mary Lena Christabel Wadugodapitiya (nee Nugera) passed away a year ago on January 29, 2010, soon after completing her 100th birthday on January 4. Born to a Catholic family with 10 siblings, she married our father Seneviratna Banda Wadugodapitiya who was acknowledged and respected as a devout Buddhist, but quietly kept her faith, and despite her seven children being brought up as Buddhists, her acceptance of and cooperation with Buddhist and Kandyan Sinhala traditions created a sense of religious harmony in our home.

Blending in naturally, she adopted the Kandyan saree with its customary puff-sleeved white blouse as her permanent dress and would voluntarily participate clad in white in family religious occasions. She would be equally enthusiastic and dexterous about making 20 pounds each of Christmas cake and love cake during Christmas to be shared with our Buddhist relatives, as with the preparation of ‘rasa kevili’ and her speciality -the kalu dodol- for the Sinhala New Year. Of course, Christmas was her special time and we celebrated it as a family and would await her return from midnight mass to greet her and share a round of cake. She has been sadly missed this last Christmas by all her family and particularly by her 16 grand-children.

We were a family of seven children and our mother’s resourcefulness in ensuring that our appetites were kept satisfied was remarkable. Evening tea or tiffin was a highlight, with her brand of jaggery hoppers, lavariya, peni pol pancakes - and to accompany her patties or pancake rolls, her special ‘chilli vinegar’- a hot sweet chilli sauce made on the grinding stone. Feeding her family was her particular joy , - as for any other mother like her.

Now in her absence, we have time to remember and evaluate the selfless contribution this quiet pleasant woman made to our lives and our children’s lives; her inner strength and determination made invisible by her laid-back manner. I feel particularly remorseful as I recollect that I took my mother for granted. Was it because I was so accustomed to seeing her always busy without complaint attending to mundane household matters rendering her inherent diligence to pass unnoticed, or because she lacked the calculated subtlety to purposefully ensure our material advancement, and was not assertive or shrewd enough to fight battles on our behalf outside her familiar territory – our home. How superficial I was! Wasn’t she my mother, doing what any mother should, I used to think. I noticed little her deep commitment to her duty as a wife and mother, and her compassion and integrity as a human being.

Our father, much loved as he was for the help he extended to so many, was tough and demanding as a husband and she was very much the submissive housewife although, to deny that she showed the occasional flare of righteous anger is to also deny her the distinctive personality she possessed. She absolutely loved the home he gave her; it was her castle which she clung to in her memory after finally and reluctantly agreeing, at the age of 92, to move in with a daughter. This was the one big drawback with her during her last years, - it had been a wrench to give up her home and independent living and there were times she insisted the move had been forced upon her, and could not accept there had been no alternative

Our mother was without doubt a fount of practical old-fashioned common sense. Among memories that linger are the regular doses of revolting castor oil followed by wedges of orange caringly but firmly forced on us as children, the burning hot bread poultices religiously applied on bruises which then so quickly and miraculously got better, the ‘dum allana’ (inhalation) nightmares when, ill with coughs and colds, we were bundled under a tent-like blanket structure to inhale a broth of medicinal herbs simmering on hot coals underneath the covering. I found it terrifying, but my mother was there with me under the blanket in the sweltering heat, pushing my face as close as it could take to the steaming broth, participating in the exercise despite the discomfort it needlessly caused her. Strange that as a daughter of a western medical practitioner she clung on to Ayurvedic or old-fashioned treatments which were always effective.

Amongst memories that flitter through my mind, foremost are the ones in which she was always industrious and busy, - sewing, pottering about in the garden or in the house, - refusing to be idle. She had no qualms about following up any task – however rough. There are sweet memories of her at the piano playing melodies like‘Mocking Bird Hill’ and the haunting ‘Ramona’.

Our father often made us gather around the piano and besides ’Diya Goda Hema Thena’, his favourite request was a song sung to the tune of “Glory glory Hallelujah’ with quaint verses which went – “Every morning bare udella, bahimu kumburata, wawaganta sinhalunge kemata’’ and “boncheeda, mekaral patola wambatu, we send them to market Pitakotu” his loud voice joining in with ours, and she valiantly providing the music. To me at that time, the singing seemed regimented, but nostalgia and sweetness comes in remembering. As her hearing gradually failed, and typically she rejected a hearing aid, she quietly gave up playing.

Our mother was a pretty woman but conventionally dressed without make up, so it is now in recollection that I realize how comely she was. As any good mother, she loved caring for her grand- children and was full of excitement when awaiting the birth of her great grandchildren. Her home and family were her kingdom. I would like to believe that many good qualities we may possess have been inherited from her.

I was abroad from around her sixtieth year and although I came over frequently and sent over health food packages, I could never make up for the care and love my sisters, brothers and their families showered on her. Her husband, one son and three sons-in-law passed away before her and though shaken she stoically bore it up. I think her immense faith in God helped. My sisters made sure that until almost the end she attended church. She was lucky in that despite her despair about losing her independence, she had boundless love and attention from her family.

My sister Kamala and her husband Upali made sure that their home was literally our mother’s home where she enjoyed her own space, could be herself and freely receive visitors. As her physical needs increased, and as was characteristic, she was hostile to prescribed drugs, the activities of my sister’s home almost completely revolved around our mother. Mere words cannot express our gratitude that our mother was so totally and lovingly cared for.

Thank you mummy for the love you so quietly and so completely gave all of us. As time goes by all we can remember more and more is your goodness. You were all that a loving mother should be and a wonderful woman and we will always cherish your memory.

A Daughter

The world of scholarship will miss him

Gaston Perera

My association with the late Gaston Perera began as a schoolboy at Kingswood College, Kandy. He went on thereafter to the University of Ceylon, now the University of Peradeniya when he joined the Classics Department and I the Department of History. After graduation he joined the Inland Revenue Department and I joined the Department of History at the University of Ceylon.

My association with him grew in recent years after he began a successful post-retirement career as a historian. To me he will always be remembered as a distinguished historian of the Portuguese encounter with Sri Lanka. He will rank with the late Professor Tikiri Abeyasinghe and Professor C. R. de Silva as the most outstanding scholars of critically important aspects of Portuguese rule in Sri Lanka, not a bad distinction for someone who entered the picture only after retirement from the position of Commissioner of Inland Revenue.

Gaston often regretted to me that his weakness was that he did not know the Portuguese language but I told him that it was not such a great disadvantage to a man with an education in classics. After all, one of the greatest students of Portuguese colonial rule was the London University scholar, the late Professor C. R. Boxer who did not have a PhD.

Gaston also yearned for a PhD. The fact is that his two works Kandy Fights the Portuguese: A Military History of Kandyan Resistance (2007) and The Portuguese Missionary in 16th and 17th Century Ceylon: The Spiritual Conquest (2009), were two outstanding studies which any professional historian would have been proud to claim as his own. Had Gaston been at the London School of Oriental and African Studies as a PhD student Boxer would have been proud to have supervised his work—as proud as he was to have guided Tikiri Abeyasinghe and C.R. de Silva through their post-graduate work. As it is Gaston would rank with Abeyasinghe and C.R. de Silva as an outstanding student of the Portuguese encounter with Sri Lanka. He did not master the Portuguese language as they had but he read everything written on the subject by scholars such as Father S. G. Perera, Sir Paulus Pieris and the Fergusons. One could not expect to do much more in the circumstances in which Gaston was.

I remember reading a statement by the great British historian G. M. Trevelagan that one of the pieces of equipment that a professional historian needed was a stout pair of boots—boots with which to tread the ground that the soldiers and their leaders walked. In preparing his Kandy Fights the Portuguese Gaston walked the roads in the Kadugannawa hills through Balana and Alagalla down to Ganetenne on the fateful route that the Portuguese armies took on their way from Colombo in their ill-fated campaigns against the Kandyan kingdom. Similarly he went to Badulla and Idalgashinna to the sites of the unfortunate Constantine de Saa’s defeat. When Gaston wrote about the Kandyans’ successful resistance against the Portuguese of de Saa’s ill-fated campaign he knew what the odds were and was able to assess them with a discernment that other historians would have admired.

While we are still getting accustomed to Gaston’s sudden and unexpected death, we are glad that he was spared to leave behind such a solid body of scholarly work. The world of scholarship in Sri Lanka will miss him tremendously. All we can say is that we treasure his memory and that his widow, his children and grandchildren will have a record to be proud of.

K. M. de Silva.

A man crowned with values, leadership and principles

L. S. Jayawardena

With the demise of Leonard Stanley Jayawardena the private sector lost one of its most highly respected leaders whose astute leadership was crowned with values and principles he steadfastly believed in. What was so unique in him was that for the sake of personal glory or accomplishment he would never ever sacrifice the sterling qualities he so zealously safeguarded to prove to the world that hard though it was, he still achieved what he wanted following the dictates of his conscience.

Lever Brothers (Ceylon) Limited which later took the name of Unilever Sri Lanka Limited had the distinction of having honourable gentlemen with proven ability serving on its Board of Directors. Everyone of them was an embodiment of refinement and employees of the Company had reason to feel proud that they worked for such a Company. When the time came for Unilever to appoint its first Sri Lankan Chairman Leonard Stanley Jayawardena was the obvious choice.

L.S.J. (that’s how we referred to him amongst ourselves) hailed from Basavakkulama Walauwe in Anuradhapura and his personality in many ways, so unbelievably honest to the letter, so strong in character and yet unassuming and unswerving, was highly influenced by the simplicity of an outstation lifestyle and upbringing. It was not difficult to notice that he had moulded his childhood days according to the priceless values that were upheld in a sacred city. Born a Christian, he entered Trinity College, Kandy and at the age of 14 chose to be a Buddhist as a result of his conviction. His mother, being a Buddhist and exposure to Buddhism, living in the sacred city, opposite the Thuparama, may have helped.

His personal wish to change his religion being permitted at Trinity, no doubt, enhanced his respect for his alma mater and with no obstacles in the way he went on to excel in his studies. When he was comparatively young and still in college he lost his father, leaving his mother to take care of the children. Facing an uphill task, after losing much of the family wealth, his mother, with sheer determination kept the son at Trinity with the implicit faith that he would live up to her expectations. This, he did and qualified to enter the University.

In the University, he met Sujata in whom he saw a perfect partner and they married after they both graduated. He joined the Inland Revenue Department as a Senior Assessor.

Later, Stanley Jayawardena joined Lever Brothers (Ceylon) Limited as its Advertising Manager and was trained in Advertising at Hindustan Lever, Bombay. Although he was a strict disciplinarian he was a kind and caring human being who never failed to understand the difficulties that others went through. I had the privilege of working under him for a major part of my 22 years at Levers, first in sales and later in marketing.

He gave me the opportunity of working as Merchandising Manager, Promotions Manager, Area Sales Manager (for a short time) Manager – Company Organized Media, Brand Manager for Astra and last of all as Product Manager - Foods. I cannot think of anyone else who at different times handled such a wide spectrum of marketing activity. He made it a point to tell me as to why he chose to do it, showing concern and importance that I needed to know … a typical ‘LSJ’ open-heart attitude in dealing with his managers. With every appointment, it was a rewarding experience for me, venturing into new areas and overcoming unexpected challenges. He took a personal interest in grooming his Managers.

He always had the interest of the country at heart and willingly helped in any national venture where his support was sought. He loaned my services to organize on behalf of the Export Promotion Secretariat, the two biggest Export Exhibitions of 100 stalls each, at the BMICH for visiting chain store buyers from USA, UK and West Germany, during the premiership of Sirima R.D.Bandaranaike.

Later, he released me to organize ‘Poshanaya’ an exhibition on rice substitutes, on behalf of the Sri Lanka Meals for Millions Foundation. He was of the view that all three exhibitions were of national significance and agreed to loan my services when requested. He was present when the Prime Minister was chief guest at the ceremonial opening of all three exhibitions. He similarly took a keen interest to develop the Cooperative Sector when assistance was sought and given forming a team picked from sales and marketing to do the needful.

When I was discussing my storyboard for Astra Margarine with LSJ there came a telephone call from a powerful VVIP who was sponsoring an applicant for a job at a time when interviews were being conducted. Unruffled, calm and collected, he told the caller that the company’s policy was to select the best and that if the applicant concerned measured up to the company’s requirement he could rest assured that he would be recruited. When so many others would have at least with soothing words given some hope to the caller (considering the fact that he was a powerful politico) Stanley Jayawardena who fearlessly practised what he believed in, did not mince his words. That was a display of dignity and refinement that only the highly principled had the courage to express without fear or favour. With that simple incident Leonard Stanley Jayawardena of Basavakkulama Walauwe stood Ten Feet Tall.

At the conclusion of a company organized event in a hotel down South, LSJ chose to return to Colombo in my car. And right throughout the journey it was an awesome experience talking to the boss on various matters outside official work and getting to know what a warm hearted person he was.

What was most remarkable about Stanley and Sujata Jayawardena was that whenever they walked into a company event they came in with a smile and almost instantly merged with the rest, moving from one place to another and having a kind word and something humorous to say to liven up the spirits. Both Stanley and Sujata Jayawardena always had time for fun and laughter and it was a treat to be in their company.

We all knew him to value and respect the truth and honesty. He made his own assessment of his Managers and never failed to give credit where credit was due. I cannot think of anyone who couldn’t have sharpened his skills and developed his personality with the encouragement and the ample opportunities he made available. He groomed his Managers to be men of efficiency and integrity and needless to say, his sincerity of purpose was the power that made him a force to reckon with.

Down to earth human beings like Leonard Stanley Jayawardena are indeed a rare breed. He was one who could have walked with kings and yet not lost the common touch. Remarkable as he was, the elements were so mixed in him that nature might stand up and say to all the world … This was a Man !

Sri Sangabo Corea