Sunday Times Nov 7, 2010

Sunday Times Oct 24 2010

Obiyas Palihapitiya
 
My father, Obiyas Palihapitiya, was a Buddhist community leader who passed away 40 years ago on July 22, 1970, after a brief illness.  He was 84 years old at the time of his death.  He was well known in the area and had good relations with everybody.  He helped his poor relatives and was held in high esteem as an advisor and elder.
 
He was born  in 1886, at Pahala Keembiya, a village in the Baddegama electorate.  He belonged to the fourth generation of the Palihapitiya clan.  His great great grandfather had come from Kandy and settled down in this village.  He was the Gamarala (Village Headman).  My father had studied Sinhala, Pali and Sanskrit at the Weligama Agrabodhi temple.  This temple education moulded his character to lead a Buddhist life.  
 
He had a successful business at the Pilagoda Valley Estate owned by a British planter, George Winter during the First World War and the Sinhala-Muslim riots.   George Winter was the first editor of the 'Ceylon Observer' during British rule. There had been more than 800 estate workers of Indian origin.  My father was very fluent in Tamil.  Mr. Winter had two sons, Alick and Norman who later succeeded their father.  Norman Winter used to attend religious and social functions at our village and addressed  meetings in Sinhala in the late 40's when I was small.  Buildings constructed by the Winters in the estate still remain intact.

 In addition to this estate, another - Makurugoda estate was also owned by a British planter.  All other estates in Baddegama area were owned by Amarasuriya's, Hettiarachchis, E. W. Kannangara, etc.  
 
 During this time, my father married my mother Lelwala Gurugamage Podinona Gunawardene, from the adjoining village, the sister of late Coroner, L.J.W.Gunawardene, Veda-Muhandiram Ralahamy who lived and practised at Bandarawela.  They had ten children.  My father was the first one to bring a bicycle to the village and he was the oldest one cycling until his death.  He taught Pali and Sanskrit to his children at home. 

While he was growing up in the village, he had come in contact with a Buddhist monk at the village temple, who later became an erudite scholar who founded the Vidyaloka Pirivena in Galle - the Ven. Welivitiye Punnasara Maha Thera.  They were good friends.  My father and his cousins were chief Dayakayas at the village temple when another monk, who later became the Principal of Vidyodaya Pirivena, Maligakanda was studying.  He was Ven Akuratiye Amarawansa Maha Thera who was also a reputed scholar.  My father used to visit the Pirivena frequently in the 20's and 30's to meet Ven. Lelwala Siriniwasa Rathanajothi Maha Thera, a pupil and relative of Ven. Hikkaduwe Sri Sumangala Nayajka Maha Thera and came under his influence.  He was my mother's paternal uncle, who had compiled a Sanskrit grammar book, Sabda Rupadarshaya with another monk.  
 
My father started his own business later to supply tea chests manufactured in his own workshop to estates in the area.  He was the main contractor supplying tea chests to Yahaladuwa estate and the Weihena estate owned by Messrs. D.E. Hettiarachchi and F.W. Jayasekera, respectively.  My father was very friendly with both owners of these estates.  Mr. Hettiarachchi was a leading Buddhist philanthropist in the area.  
 
 My father a traditionalist who believed in astrology and other Sinhala customs and traditions.  Sinhala new year was celebrated a a grand scale at home.  Relatives and workers would visit with sheaves of betel and worship him.

My father was a dedicated Buddhist and a devoted family man.  He died at the age of 84 on election day in July, 1970.  President Mahinda Rajapaksa, the newly elected MP for Beliatta, came to pay his  last respects to my father on July 25 to his Gangodawila house.  At the funeral, funeral orations were made by Ven. Akuratiye Amarawansa Nayaka Maha Thera, K.L.G.Somachamdra, Dr. Gunapala Nanayakkara, M.K.Dias, P.G.D.Gunasena, Dr. Thilak Kariyawasam, etc.  
 
May he attain NIBBANA!             .  
            
-P.G.G. Palihapitiya, 
Canada 

Rev Fr Mark Perera

Top of Form

Rev. Fr. Mark Perera of the Society of Jesus passed away on August 23, 2010 at age of 81 Fr. Mark was the second son of Maharage Marcelline Perera former Principal of Calvary School, Galle and Paththage Josephine Perera, a qualified teacher. 

Fr. Mark's father Marcelline (brother of Rev. Fr. Moses Perera) migrated to Kaluwella, Galle from Dehiyagatha, Ja-Ela, as his intention was to give his children the best of education.Fr. Mark had four brothers and two sisters. Prof. Wilfred Perera MRCOG was the eldest, Daisy Pathirana taught at St. Aloysius College, Galle for over 35 years, Rita Perera is the founder of MarcSri Kalutara, Newton a leading Chartered Accountant, Former High Court Judge Joe Perera died 20 years ago under tragic circumstances, and Doctor of Medicine Kitty(MACC) is the youngest. 

Father Mark was a distinguished student of St. Aloysius' College, Galle. He answered The Almighty's call and joined the Jesuit Seminary to become a priest.Fr. Mark did his philosophical studies in Bombay, proceeded to Naples and was ordained a priest in 1961.Subsequently he obtained his MSc. in chemistry from Louis University Missouri in USA and qualified in counselling. He returned to Sri Lanka after being away from his motherland for 16 years.. 

He taught chemistry at St. Aloysius College Galle, initially in English and subsequently in Sinhala too.Though he did not master Sinhala, he mastered the art of conveying ideas effectively in Sinhala. 

He was a student counselor par excellence.He treated the youth with kindness and dignity, Religion, race or caste were not barriers for the young to reach him. Later he was appointed as the Student Counsellor for the University of Peradeniya, which post he held for over a decade. Many came for guidance and Fr. Mark always had time for them, and he brought peace and solace to them. 

Music was one of his many pastimes.(Maestro Sunil Santha was his first cousin). 

He was in a wheelchair for over a year, but his spirit never flagged. He was an optimist. 

The last rites and burial was held at Lewella, Kandy, amidst a large gathering of his Jesuit Brethren, students, friends and relatives. 

May Fr. Mark Rest in Peace and may his work be carried on! 

-Cecil Perera

Bandula Manawadu

Bandula Manawadu whose second death anniversary we observe joined Richmond at a time when the student population was in the grip of an identity crisis. Though gone where all ultimately journey, his memory remains etched indelibly in our minds eye. 

I do not know whether the identity crisis which I speak of here still prevails in College. If it does it’s a terrible thing. If it does not it is certainly a paradigm shift. 

There always were two tiers. Those that were identified were noticed at every turn and got favoured treatment be it in studies or extra curricular activities like cricket 

and football or even in scouting and in the choice of prefects. Others were left to fend for themselves as best as they could. They were simply ignored or dismissed as not being of any worth. 

It was under teachers like Mr. Bandula Manawadu that the less favoured were made to feel that they were not unwanted after all. Mr. Manawadu along with other teachers like Mr. J.H. Ariyaratnum, Mrs Manel Tampoe and the late Mrs Indranie Gomez by their very nature and also due to their liberal education received from the University of Peradeniya was able to instill a sense of self confidence in their students which helped them immensely in their life and survival at College. Those teachers were a class by themselves at any age and added lustre to the staff. At all times smartly dressed, they were well mannered, and truly majestic in appearance, taking immense care and uncompromisingly insisting that everyone under their charge performed exceptionally well. 

One of Mr. Manawadu’s great gifts (he had many) was his ability to instill knowledge and confidence. He very successfully adopted his own style of teaching which took immense pains to see that his student audience was made to concentrate rigorously on what he was trying to instill in them. His delivery whether in the history hour or the civics class was indeed both electric and high octane and went right into the heads of those of us who were not taken much notice of in other classes. His choice of and organization of words and imagery (reminiscent of Eliot’s The Love Song of J.Alfred J Prufrock (1911), and their masterly delivery, had the stamp and intensity of poetry, which we again encountered in James Joyce’s A Portrait of an Artist. 

Towards the achievement of these ends he indulged in and perfected the technique of repetition which at times appeared aggressive or even oppressive but which in the long run proved to be very effective and rewarding. 

Poor performers in other classes fared exceptionally well in Mr. Manawadu’s subjects arousing suspicion and often envy among some other members of the staff. 

His life and achievements bristle with an intellectual and moral toughness which many others of his day seemed unable to emulate even after much labour. 

I have no doubt that Bandula Manawadu continues to be a source of great strength and inspiration to his former students, to his devoted wife and other members of the family including my dear friend Ananda. 

May his soul rest in peace and may he attain the eternal bliss of Nibbana. His devoted and ever grateful student. 

Neil Dias

Sunday Island Oct 17 2010

Late Professor M. T. M. Jiffrey

October 16, 2010, 5:27 pm 

In March this year late Professor M. T. M. Jiffrey last visited my wife and me at our residence in Mount-Lavina. Punctual as usual and immaculately dressed Professor Jiffrey is an epitome of a gentleman. He has, as I reflect, been a brother, peer, role model and an advisor to me over last 6 decades of our friendship and association.

On this day, as I recall, we reminisced on our childhood days over a cup of tea. He enjoyed the cup of tea so much that he wanted to know the type of this tea used in the preparation and where this brand could be purchased. As our friendly conversation progressed, he started touching upon sentimental aspects of our childhood experiences together. At one point he was so moved, that he recalled our early schooling, attending Montessori at St Mary’s Convent, Matara. Being my cousin and neighbor in Matara our daily scheduled trip from Broadway Road to St. Mary’s Convent at Beach Road in Matara by buggy cart with the "buggy aiya" and our "ayah amma," namely Sango, who looked after and cared for us in school until we returned home. Interestingly, he had a very sharp memory of the yesteryear and reminded me also of our participation in a concert during our childhood as a sailor and an engine driver.

Despite being peers, right from our childhood I recognized him as a silent but a very talented cousin who was very good in art and creative hand work. He was very generous and had the habit of sharing and caring for others. I remember him presenting me his pieces of art works, paintings and hand work during our Montessori days. When he was about to leave our place after discussing our nostalgic memories on this day, my wife made it a point to present him with a packet of same quality tea which he and his wife relished a few hours earlier.

This was the last occasion I spoke to Professor Jiffrey. Thereafter I visited him when he was receiving treatment in a private hospital. Couple of days later I was grieved to learn the sad news about his passing away following his brief illness.

Professor Jiffrey’s s mother expired during his infancy. As the only child in his family, he grew up under the care of his aunts and his beloved father who cared for him with much love and affection. In adult life Professor Jiffrey became a people friendly person and always respected people from all walks of life irrespective of their caste, creed and religion.

With the passage of time on finishing our Montessori days, we were in different schools. Late Professor M. T. M. Jiffrey gained admission to Mahinda College, Galle, and later schooled at Ananda College, Colombo from where he passed the University Entrance with flying colors. Thereafter, he excelled in his chosen career and progressively rose up and emerged as a Professor in his chosen field.

I met a happy and contented Professor assuming the position of the Dean of the Faculty of Medicine, Sri Jayawardenapura University and as the Physiology lecturer of the same University. I am aware that he was popular among his peers and got along equally well with his subordinates. When he became the Vice Chairman of UGC, he used to tell me that his new position in the UGC is very challenging and arduous. Nevertheless, as an experienced academic together with his knowledge on Human Resource Management, he boldly faced the realities of the new job. He spared no effort to resolve problems encountered by the students with foresight, tact and knowledge. He fearlessly stood by for the just demands of the poor University students.

It is no secret that as an eminent intellectual he had been a mentor to very many University students who are now in the medical profession as doctors. Well versed in Sinhala, Tamil and English, late Professor Jiffrey was an eloquent orator capable of delivering thought provoking speeches and presentations. To his credit, he has won many international and national accolades for his work and presentations of scientific papers. He has held various high posts during his lifetime and had been an exemplary academic throughout his career. Recently he was appointed a member of the Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission. However, he was unfortunate unable to sit on this ongoing Commission due to his illness.

He was a devout Muslim and worked tirelessly and had a genuine desire to help the poor Muslim students from the rural areas in Sri Lanka. Being a Professor, he did not care about his status when it came to social work. Thus he was very simple and humble in all his dealings with his fellow men and had a knack for helping the poor and downtrodden and was therefore highly involved in charitable activities. During our friendly discussions he always showed his keenness and genuine desire to see all Sri Lankans living in peace and tranquility. As an intellectual, late Professor Jiffrey was held in high esteem by the Muslim community of Sri Lanka and was considered a shining gem among the Muslim intellectuals. He showed great love and affection towards the poor and needy Muslims and took great interest to look into their problems.

Professor Jiffrey is no more with us, Yet the memories of his past will linger and always remain with us forever. No doubt that this great man’s name will be inscribed in the annals of Sri Lankan history. He passed away at the peak of his career, at a time when he was rendering service and spearheading many important scientific projects. His sudden demise is an irreparable loss.

Whilst paying my humble tribute to this gentleman, a friend and a cousin, I extend my condolences to the immediate family members of the late Professor M. T. M.Jiffrey and pray Almighty Allah that he may grant late Professor Jiffrey Jennath -ul-Firodouze!

By Brigadier (Ret) M. Z. Ishrath, 170/68, Templers Grove, Templers Road, Mount Lavinia

Sunday Island Oct 17 2010

Sunday Times Oct 9 2010

Sunday Times Oct 3 2010

Two affable, gifted sisters who guided many a student

Fanny & Mavis Fernando

Fanny and Mavis Fernando were two sisters, my first cousins. They were exemplary teachers and shining examples of lovable siblings. They were always together working in harmony and were inseparable friends. They remained unmarried and got along very well, not only with each other but with every person who came to know them.

Both of them had their early education at Good Shepherd Convent, Kotahena and after their professional qualifications decided to teach in the same school. They taught at GSC up to the time of retirement and continued teaching privately thereafter for several years. Hundreds of students would have passed through their benevolent hands whether it be English or Mathematics they learnt. They were both gifted with remembering names of students even after several years.
They were sociable and never absented themselves from attending meetings of past pupils, past teachers of GSC and also the alumni association of Aquinas College. Fanny incidentally taught at the Colombo International School and also at the Asian International School.

They were always present together at functions whether it be a wedding, a party or an anniversary. They were both empathetic towards friends and relatives when in difficult situations. Together they would attend funerals of known persons to console the bereaved. Fanny would go a step further in organizing and arranging help to those in need. She always had a ready smile at all times.

To me Fanny akka and Mavis akka were like my own sisters reaching out at every turn, very specially at my wedding, when Fanny organized the designing of the entire bridal ensemble. She knew offhand the names of people to be contacted for the various requirements that every bride has to go through whether it be clothes, flowers, shoes, invitations or decorations. I say a silent prayer for both of them when I recall these.

Mavis was more or less the house proud lady who used to run the household with ease and charm. She was like the “Martha” of the New Testament. She would see that all visitors (mainly Fanny’s) were entertained in a similar manner. The selection of food items, how they were prepared and how they were served were her sole responsibility. Fanny was the more sociable “Mary” of the house. She would keep everyone entertained and in good spirits till the very end. We felt being loved by both of them every time we met them Their wide circle of friends can vouch for this.

When Mavis passed away in November 2009, the younger sister Fanny was devastated. She felt lost in a sort of wilderness, unable to cope with a totally new situation without Mavis. Every time I called her over the phone she would say “Not too good, Julitta” but showed the outside world that she was calm and controlled – but not for long. Three and a half moths later, in early March 2010 Fanny passed away after a brief illness. It was too late when cancer was diagnosed.

God has been merciful to Fanny for He took her after a very brief separation from her beloved sister. Mavis I am sure would have been waiting to greet her. They are now, I am sure, in Heaven happily serving Jesus.

There was perfect joy and beauty in the lives of this marvellous duo. May they Rest in Peace.

Julitta Fernando

A brilliant man whose humility shone bright

Dr. Surendra Ramachandran

The passing away of Deshmanya Dr. Surendra Ramachandran, a gentleman leader of the medical profession and our friend, has left a void in the medical field.

He was a brilliant product of the then only medical faculty in Colombo of the University of Ceylon. He sailed through his postgraduate examinations in medicine locally and abroad with consummate ease.

As a consultant physician in the state health service he pioneered research in many areas of medicine including kidney disease. His interest in the latter made him donate a prize for the best paper in nephrology at the Annual Scientific Sessions of the Sri Lanka Medical Association. He was one of the pioneers who were responsible for the establishment of the Medical Intensive Care Unit at the General Hospital Colombo in the early 1980s, when I was its Director.

He served the Sri Lanka Medical Association in many capacities including President. During his tenure as President, he was responsible for the inauguration of the Annual Foundation Sessions and the E.M.Wijerama Endowment Lecture. Among many orations he delivered was the second E. M. Wijerama Endowment Lecture where he spoke on kidney disease in Sri Lanka.

Dr. Ramachandran was also President of the Ceylon College of Physicians. He was a devout Hindu. He and his wife Nirmala travelled extensively visiting Hindu and Buddhist sacred places locally and abroad.

He was a much sought after teacher by medical under-graduates and post-graduates. His knowledge, simplicity and straightforwardness attracted them to him.

He was very kind and soft-spoken to the rich and the poor. The main quality I will remember about him was his humility and kindness.

Dr. Lucian Jayasuriya, Past President, Sri Lanka, Medical Association

To the best Seeya in the world

Dr. P.A.C. De Silva

My grandfather passed away on 20 September, at 7.15 pm. After developing a chest pain, he fell into a coma that lasted 12 days. With Seeya gone, I feel very empty. It is not easy to accept the fact that someone who was very close to you is no more.

Seeya made sure we had food to eat, that we had our dinner at the proper time, that we studied, and that everything was all right with us. He would teach us new things. Most of the time, we were too tired or lazy to learn, but we did our best to absorb the knowledge he gave us. He made sure we were happy, and that we did not mix with the wrong types.

I will miss Seeya’s toothless smile and cute laugh. A lot of people do not appreciate what they have until it is gone. This was not the case with Aiya and me. We knew Seeya was the best grandfather in the world (equal to Aththa), and that when he left us everything would change. What matters is that Seeya loved us more than anyone else, and we loved him equally in return.

I am happy that I was beside him, holding his hand, when he was dying. He was happy to hear our voices. I do not know of anyone as inspiring, loving, kind, sweet, happy and caring as he was. My grandfather had a long and excellent life. He had a wonderful wife, two wonderful children, and two loving grandchildren. What more can a grandfather ask for? Seeya was very content.

I hope his next life will be as happy and good as this one was. I will miss him dearly.

Your Granddaughter, Shenali Katha

For the good times we shared

Sumana Cooray

To my Mother-in-law, with love

Something made us come together
With mutual respect,
We both shared someone special –
Your son – my better half.

We did not fight
But defied the classic clashes
The cat and dog coldness
Of mother-in-law and her rival.

We laughed, cracked jokes
Talked and argued
And. of course, gossiped;
We felt no difference

Moments of gladness
Things of sadness
Life full of emptiness
Made into fullness.

All those lovely memories
Of valuable advice 
Caring ways
Sharing with others.

It is your 84th Birthday
The 5th of October is the day;
And I wish to say,
“Thank You, and I miss you” 
May you be content – 
May you seek the supreme fame
With the end of your Samsara!

Savithri Jayasinghe Cooray, Melbourne, Australia

He lives in the hearts of the people of Harispattuwa

Dr. A. C. S. Hameed

September 3 marked the 11th death anniversary of my dear brother, the late Dr. A. C. S. Hameed, former Foreign Minister and Member of Parliament.

As a Member of Parliament, he represented Harispattuwa, a predominantly Sinhala Buddhist electorate, for an unbroken 39 years. The people of Harispattuwa voted for A. C. S. Hameed from 1960 until his demise in 1999. His nephew M. H. A. Haleem has been representing Harispattuwa since 2000. The Hameed family has represented this region for 50 years, a rare achievement.

Eleven years after his death, my brother is still remembered with affection by the people there.

I was in Harispattuwa during the last general election, and wherever I went, I would meet people of all backgrounds who spoke affectionately of Hameed and remembered with gratitude his work for the community.

It may be no exaggeration to say that Harispattuwa is one of the few electorates where true democracy is practised. The people voted for the man who looked after them.

Hameed set up several organisations to help the poor of Harispattuwa and Kandy district. They were provided with such essentials as roofing sheets, medicines, spectacles, school books, as well as financial assistance for newlyweds.

To mark Hameed’s 11th death anniversary this year, 1,000 pairs of spectacles were distributed among the poor. It is with pride that we note that career diplomats and other class officers hailing from Harispattuwa have appointments at almost all the Sri Lanka embassies overseas.

Dr. Hameed was also very concerned about the ethnic problem in Sri Lanka. When he became the first Foreign Minister, in 1997, he had the job of promoting Sri Lanka as an investment. As a result of his efforts, a number of foreign companies invested in the Free Trade Zone, giving thousands of Sri Lankans employment and bringing in billions of dollars in foreign exchange.

Before 1977, a guarantor had to sign a bond on behalf of anyone applying for a passport. A. C. S. Hameed persuaded President J. R. Jayewardene to waive this requirement. As a result, Sri Lankan citizens need produce only their national identity card to obtain a passport.Before Hameed’s time, Sri Lankan Muslims had to prove they were not of Indian origin in order to register their deeds. 
My brother requested President Jayewardene to change the law so Muslims could register deeds by producing only their Sri Lanka birth certificate.

It was during A. C. S. Hameed’s time as Foreign Minister that embassies were opened in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Oman, Bahrain, Qatar and Dubai. Before 1977, Sri Lanka had just one embassy in the African continent, in Egypt.

Hameed was also a good man to his immediate and extended family. Despite a busy schedule, he would be present at all family gatherings.

He enjoyed meeting the villagers, and knew them all by name. He made sure that whatever was promised to them was delivered. Many of us have fond memories of Hameed, holding a Cuban cigar and chatting with the people.

Cartoonists would have great fun drawing Hameed for the newspapers, and Hameed would take all this in good spirit. The soft-spoken Hameed had no enemies, even among the politicians. 
May he be granted a place in Jannathul Firdouse (Paradise) by the All-Mighty Allah.

A.C.A. Ghafoor

The aroma of virtue of a good man spreads everywhere

Al-Haj Bakeer Markar

It is usual for the Speaker of the House to have a copy of Erskine May’s Parliamentary Practice by his side for ready reference. But Speaker Deshamanya Al-Haj Bakeer Markar kept a copy of the sacred Dhammapada to guide him in his solemn duties. He was always ready to be guided and inspired by the sacred teachings of our spiritual leaders, regardless of the religion.

On occasion, he would quote from the Dhammapada. He passed on his affection for and deference to the Dhammapada to his son, the former Minister Imthiaz Bakeer Markar.

It is apt therefore to begin this tribute with a quotation from the Dhammapada: in the Puppha Vagga (Flower Canto), the Supreme Buddha declares:

“The sweet smell of a flower never wafts up-wind, nor does the fragrance of sandalwood. But the aroma of virtue of a good man spreads up-wind, down-wind, in every direction and everywhere." These words well describe the virtues of Deshamanya Al-Haj Bakeer Markar.

As Speaker, he oversaw the transition of the Parliament from its old premises, facing the sea in Colombo, to its present home, in Kotte. It was a monumental challenge. He carried out the move with masterly efficiency – calm and dignified even in the most trying of circumstances.

M. A. Bakeer Markar was born to a family that traces its ancestry back to Sheik Jamaludeen-Al-Maghdoomi, the pioneering Arab leader who settled down in the coastal city of Beruwela.

Al-Haj M. A. Bakeer Markar had a deep sense of tradition, but he was never narrow-thinking or parochial. He believed that all communities should live in harmonious co-existence. National unity was at the heart of everything he said and did.

In 1950, the Urban Council of Beruwela became the first local government body to pass a resolution to the effect that Sinhala should be the state language. Al-Haj M. A. Bakeer Markar was chairman of the council at the time. He had a book in Tamil, titled “Yane Sinhalam” (“Why we should learn Sinhala”) printed with his own money and distributed among minority communities.
He worked hard to improve conditions for the Muslim community, especially through education. He was a champion of the socially discarded.

His father, Hakeem Alia Marikar Mohamed Marikar, was a successful businessman who practised Ayurvedic medicine. The name Hakeem means “physician”, suggesting ancestors who practised medicine.

Young Bakeer Markar received his early education at Zahira College, where he also acquired a taste for active politics. The presiding genius at Zahira then was the legendary Dr. T. B. Jayah, the school principal. Dr. Jayah was a highly respected educationist, and he was also a political activist, driven by a zeal for social reform. The young Bakeer Markar came under Dr. T. B. Jayah’s spell.

At Zahira, the young Bakeer Markar showed outstanding leadership qualities. He was made editor of the school magazine, speaker for the Majlis, and president of the Tamil Literary Association. He was also a skilful orator. To top it all, he was proficient in all three languages – Sinhala, Tamil and English.

The pursuit of law studies was a natural choice for a young man with all these qualities. At the Law College, he was Speaker of the Muslim League Senate and the President of the All-Ceylon Muslim Students’ Movement.

Young Bakeer Markar entered the rough-and-tumble world of practical politics in 1947. He was the obvious choice to handle the election campaign of Dr. T. B. Jayah. In 1950, he was elected to the Beruwela Urban Council, and became council chairman in his first year. His political career progressed steadily from then on.

He dreamed of a united Sri Lanka. The climax of his political career came with his appointment as Governor of the Southern Province. Whatever the troubles, he was ready to restore harmony. His devotion to his own faith and his respect for the religions of others are legendary.

In the restoration of the Majid-Al-Abrar mosque, he ensured that the original architecture remained. 
Al-Haj Bakeer Markar was a politician, a statesman and, above all, a gentleman.

Irvin Weerakody

Ammi was the ‘English Literature Teacher’ to a generation of students

Dora Boteju

June 4, 2010 was probably the saddest day of my life. It was the day my precious darling Ammi left us for eternal life, to be by the side of our loving Lord Jesus. Dear Mother was probably my best and only true friend. It was only when she left us that my sister Enakshi, my father Edward and I realised how much she meant to us.

My mother was known to many as “Mrs. Dora Boteju, the English Literature Teacher.” Her standing as a teacher was demonstrated by the crowd of grateful students, young and old, who came to her funeral. Many of them stopped to tell me what a wonderful teacher and friend Mrs. Boteju was to them.

Ammi loved her job, and she is still remembered at Methodist College, Colombo, 18 years after retiring from active service. She retired prematurely when my sister and her husband announced they were going to have a baby. My mother chose the baby girl’s name, Anarkalee.

Despite family responsibilities, including taking care of her grandchildren, Mother still found time and energy to teach needy and poor children. She did not expect anything in return. All she wanted was that her students did well at the public exams. She never took a vacation with the family because she did not want her “deserving students” to miss a lesson. If there was a teacher who called her students whenever they missed a class, it was Mrs. Boteju.

Ammi was the driving force in our lives. We consulted her on all big decisions, whether it was planning a party or naming a baby. Ammi was such an inspiration that I aspired to be like her in everything I did. She was a perfectionist. She would say that if I decided to do something, I should go ahead and do it, without looking back, and stop only when I had completed the task. She was supportive of any decision I made, so long as it was in my best interest.

When I met my future wife, I was nervous about telling Ammi. I had fallen in love with a Buddhist girl, and Ammi was a devout Christian, a Baptist. How would the family receive the news, I wondered. One day, while chatting with Ammi, I told her about Manik.

With her warm smile, she said: “When am I going to see her?” I repeated that Manik was a Buddhist. Again Ammi smiled, and said: “Why should that worry you? If she’s a good girl, that’s all that matters. My advice is don’t pressure her for a church wedding. Your wedding day should be special to both of you.”

Manik and Ammi were the best of friends.

Even when her cancer was getting the better of her, up to the middle of May this year, Ammi would continue to call daily to ask how the family was. Every call had some good advice for me.

She once told me she had no fear of dying, and was in fact looking forward to eternal life, in the arms of Jesus. But she couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her grandchildren. She wanted to see Dineth and Manish grow up just as Anarkalee and Nevan did. She wanted to see them enter the gates of S. Thomas’ College, Mt. Lavinia, holding their parents’ hands.

She recalled my first day at the same S. Thomas’. I was holding her hand and begging her to stay at the gate as she handed me over to my class teacher. I remember that day too. I was crying, and Ammi’s eyes too were filled with tears. That was the first time I saw tears in her eyes.

I feel her loss daily.

Dilo (Dilshan Boteju)

A Christian life dedicated to giving – as teacher, parent, parishioner and good citizen

Sybil Elvina De Chickera

She had requested that her love letters, which she had preserved for more than 70 years, be burnt. These were tied with blue ribbon in three bundles and packed tightly in a shoebox that was kept in her wardrobe.

Among the letters was a self-made card addressed to Guy, her husband. The greeting ended with the words: “From a maid who loves you madly.” There was also a New Year card, from 1942, from Guy to Sybil that said: “Whatever the year brings, it brings nothing new.”

In accordance with her wishes, the letters and cards were burnt and interred with her ashes at a private family gathering at Borella Kanatte, on August 30.

The Bishop of Colombo, her second son, officiated at the funeral. Sybil’s four children, 11 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren were present that day, and if one or two were unable to be there in person, they were there in spirit.

From Kanatte, the mourners headed to the Cathedral of Christ the Living Saviour, Bauddhaloka Mawatha, for a requiem service. The cathedral was packed, and Sybil’s favourite Anglican hymns were sung by the congregation, led by the Cathedral choir.

The handout sheet said: “A service of thanksgiving and remembrance for God’s gifts of Sybil Elvina and Geoffrey Eustace (Guy) de Chickera.” Guy de Chickera, a proctor of the Supreme Court for more than 25 years, passed away, aged 55, in August 1965. Sybil joined him on August 21, 2010. 
Sybil’s grandson read out a poem, “The day God called you home”, and Sybil’s daughter Nalini read the intercessions, which Sybil herself had written and read at the Cathedral’s last Easter service. The Rev. James Ratnanayagam gave the sermon.

Sybil studied at the Teacher Training College, Maharagama, and taught English and Geography at the Maradana Central College, where she served under such distinguished principals as Vivian Blaze, Edward Anthonisz, and Mr. Asirwatham. She was greatly loved by her students, many of whom were present at her funeral.

From Maradana Central, Sybil moved to Presbyterian Girls’ School, Dehiwela, as vice-principal. Her teaching career ended officially at Presbyterian. In her retirement, she taught underprivileged children in and around Dehiwela, where she lived, before moving to live with her son and his family on the Cathedral premises, in Colombo 7.

Sybil was God-fearing. She practised her Christianity in her daily life. As a young mother, she took her children to the Church of St Paul the Apostle, on Kynsey Road, and then, when the family moved house, to the Church of the Good Shepherd, Jawatte Road. Sybil and the family later joined the parish of St. Michael’s Church, Polwatte, and finally, that of the Cathedral, on Bauddhaloka Mawatha.

Sybil had a beautiful voice, and enthusiastically joined in the singing at Sunday service. Wherever she worshipped, she loved singing the Lord’s songs. She did little things for Him. Whenever she went out, she would return with fish buns for the Cathedral’s security guards. She gave Mangalika, the maid who looked after her during her convalescence, a bottle of perfume on her birthday. 
When her son Rohan, living in Canada, was holidaying in Sri Lanka, she told all her four children that she had saved money for them over the last decades.

She was generous to all. As her grandson Gihan said, she bore ill-will towards no one. Sybil had a fiery temper, but her anger would fast disappear and all would be forgiven and forgotten. She drew a teacher’s pension, which would not have been much, but she would never fail to pull a note out for a needy person.

Sybil started a patchwork class for the poor girls of the neighbourhood of St. Michael’s, Polwatte. The girls loved these classes. Sybil would collect raw material from parishioners, and the girls would turn these into exquisite works of art, under Sybil’s guidance. Sybil would exhibit the finished products and hold a sale at the church premises. The proceeds would go to the girls. The patchwork classes were so popular that when Sybil attempted to turn her attention to another charity project, the girls would not hear of it.

At the Cathedral, Sybil held English classes twice a week for the young deacons. She extended these classes to members of the police and the armed forces, who would spread word of “the old lady who gives English classes at the Cathedral.” They loved her for it.

Sybil had two dogs, Mafia and Bua. Mafia would growl if anyone walked unannounced into Sybil’s room. Both dogs slept in her room and followed her around the house. When Sybil went for a stroll in the Cathedral garden, the ponies would whinny, as she would carry carrots and sugar in her pockets for them. After the ponies had gone, there were the guinea fowls and tortoises. The animals somehow seemed to recognise Sybil’s voice.

She loved her grandchildren and took great pride in their achievements as lawyers, doctors, corporate vice-presidents, computer wizards, playwrights, cartoonists, holders of MBAs, CIMAs, CIMs, PhDs – the lot. Her 10 great-grandchildren called her Nana.

Duleep’s granddaughter Kithmie formed a special attachment to her great-grandmother. “Nana has been taken by the angels, so she can get well,” said Ruwa, her mother, when Sybil was called to her rest. Kithmie then asked, “When she gets better, will they bring her back?”

Sybil maintained good health for most of her 88 years. She spent a couple of days at the Durdans’ Hospital on two occasions, when she came down with a viral infection. Early this year she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. She was taken to Singapore for a second diagnosis, and underwent surgery before returning to Sri Lanka.

The family decided that Sybil would stay at home, rather than be hospitalised, and that she would receive all the “tender loving care” (TLC) and professional service and advice she needed. Up to the last, she took her meals and supplements on her own, with minimal help. She laughed, chatted, and walked about – albeit hoarsely and slowly.

On the night of August 20, she had her dinner as usual on her own. The meal included a caramel pudding that friends from the Church of the Good Shepherd had brought her. She then went to sleep – a sleep she would not wake up from. Sybil Elvina left us at 12.10 a.m., August 21, 2010. According to her wishes, she was cremated within 24 hours. She was given a private funeral service at the Kirulapone Cemetery.

May the Good Lord grant her eternal rest.

Lucky

Trinitians salute a role model on and off the field

Lakshman Jayakody

Trinity gave Lakshman Jayakody the ‘final farewell’ when his mortal remains were cremated on Thursday, September 2 at the Divulapitiya- UC grounds at Balagalla.

He had done much for Trinity from the time he was awarded cricket colours in 1948 in the company of Percy Deheragoda, Lakshman Kadirgamar, R.G.D.S. Misso, Eustace Rulach, George Wijeratne and C.Shanmuganathan.

He opened batting and was a classicist to watch. His scores of 54 not out and 58 against Wesley and St Anthony's in 1948 and 53 and 58 vs. STC and SJC were his main innings but he had several cameos in his three-year period under Lala Wadsworth ['48 and '49] and Lakshman Kadirgamar in 1950.

At rugger, he won his colours in 1950 along with Mervyn Panditaratne, Lionel Pilimatalauwe, Kavan Rambukwella, C. Shanmuganathan, Gamini Tennekoon, Sinha Weerasekera and B.O. Speldewinde.

Lakshman was appointed a prefect in 1950 together with Michael Abeyaratne, K. Arumugam, S.S. Bambaradeniya, D.C. Bandaranayake, L.U.C. Kuruppu, N.S. Madugalle, C.H. Meares, D.L.Y. Pakstun, B.O. Speldewinde and Terry Unamboowe who authored the Napier House anthem whilst yet a schoolboy.

He was a role model among the foursome of Lala Wadsworth, Lakshman Kadirgamar and Mervyn Wanduragala. He was always accessible to any who had a problem. He was the original 'Hammogayma Dukgannarala." Friends like him were God's apology for relations.

Away from the sports field, Lakshman won the Sinhala Literature Prize in 1947 and '49 and the Sinhala Prize in 1948. He was Secretary of the Sinhala Literary Union in 1948 and when he sported the national dress that had come into focus at the time, we knew he was tailor-made for politics.
As a Cabinet Minister even in turbulent times he scorned security and would walk the constitutional mile every morning. He led a simple life and never was the laird of Balagalla, his pocket borough. He even wished to be simple in death.

When he was the Cabinet Minister of Buddhist Affairs he took my family on a learned tour of the Dalada Maligawa, explaining in great detail all the nuances that make up the edifice.

I sought a priority letter from him to obtain an elusive telephone connection. He was walking for lunch when I met him on the stately stairs of the then Ministry of Defence of which he was the Deputy Minister when Mrs. Bandaranaike was the Minister. Without a qualm he turned around and gave me the letter from his desk.

When Trinity had a problem with the lease of Asgiriya it was Lakshman who sorted out matters with the help of Nahil Wijesuriya's near million by meeting Mrs Chandrika Kumaratunga who was then the President of the country.

It must be stated that Lakshman Jayakody is the only one of his clan to have been at Trinity and that is because he was of a mischievous bent and his father decided that a boarding life far from home would cure the naughty streak.

I can vouch for the fact that the streak was curbed but that it shone at times even through the veneer of position as a prefect. The boys were smoking just one cigarette in the Ryde House toilet one Saturday morning when Head Prefect Lakshman Kadirgamar came down the steps with towel around his shoulders and soap dish and toothbrush in hand. He saw his namesake manning the entrance, read the script and turned on his heels, thereby restoring honour amongst thieves.

Lakshman Jayakody has been the President of the Trinity College OBA, a member of the Board of Governors and President of the country's Cricket Board in a period that covered a trinity of Trinity Presidents with the other two being Gamini Dissanayake and .B.Werapitiya.

Lakshman Jayakody lived a full and pleasant life and he made our lives much the richer. I would like to believe that he co-authored 'What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us’.

At the end of the epic, when the sun has set, let us say not in grief "He is no more" but live in thankfulness that 'he was’. And he touched our lives.'

Sharm de Alwis

Unassuming Parliamentarian who filled his life with art, music and song

A telephone call on the night of Monday, August 30, broke the news of Lakshman Maamaa’s passing away. He had been ailing for a month, first at a private hospital, and then at the National Hospital.

I had known Lakshman Maamaa most of my life, going back to my childhood. The sad news of his death brought back memories.

In the early ’50s, Lakshman Maamaa and my father were executives at Freudenberg & Co., the firm owned by the late Robert Senanayake. Both were bachelors at the time, and they became close friends.

Lakshman Maamaa and Father had a great liking for art, music and song. When my Father got married in 1958, he invited Lakshman Maamaa to be his bestman.

Lakshman Maamaa entered Parliament in 1960, where he stayed for the next 40 years, till 2000, with only a three-year break, from 1997 to 1980. Lakshman Jayakody served as Deputy Minister of Defence/External Affairs, under the 1970 regime, and as Cabinet Minister of Cultural Affairs under President Chandrika Kumaratunga, from 1994 to 2000.

On retiring from Parliamentary politics, Lakshman Maamaa became vice-chairman of the National Development Council, and later served as a Presidential adviser, up until the time of his death.

Lakshman Maamaa was always accessible. He answered the telephone himself, whether at home or in the office, and he always travelled in the front seat of his Jeep, next to the driver. As a Cabinet Minister, he would walk from his Polhengoda home to our Thimbirigasyaya home to see my father, who was in poor health in 2000/2001. He would listen to anyone with a problem and try to help in any way he could.

Lakshman Maamaa was a jolly presence at family parties, singing Tower Hall-era songs. He enjoyed life and lived his 80 years to the fullest. He had a wide circle of friends, from all walks of life. I don’t think he had any enemies.

His demise is a loss to the nation.

Mangala Herat Gunaratne

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A sincere friend and livewire at gatherings

Malini Ratnaike

The lamp that lit the wartime Visakha Bandarawelites has been extinguished. No more the happy gatherings of Bandarawelites at her spacious home. No more coach rides as her guests for a happy outing to Kandy. No more Vesak sil at her home emulating Mrs. Motwani's programme of sil day at Visakha. Malini and Malini alone kept us together all these long years, no one will refute. It was as if she was Mrs. Jeramias Dias reborn.

Yet I well recall the picture I have of Malini when I first saw her at our Bandarawela Visakha, two new girls were standing together in the garden facing each other with unsmiling faces, one taller than the other. They were two sisters, Malini and Chandrani.

Years later Malini told me she was urging Chandrani to cry, cry. Malini thoroughly resented being removed from her friends at Ladies’ College and desperately wanted her father to put her back there. And "Chandragiri" which was the wartime hostel cramped to the hilt with primitive toilet facilities would have compounded her resentment. I wonder how long it took Motwani to write to her father; 'Malini smiled today.'

In no time Malini was proving herself a star on the netball field and running about happily. She had accepted us. "FRIENDS"! That is the cue to Malini's entire life. She lived for her friends. Her sons who all lived abroad wished her to live abroad too but she could not contemplate a life without her friends. She always came running back.

Malini could very well have hosted all her parties at the Hilton and graced the social columns of our newspapers. She chose the other road - Home. She offered only sincere affection and simplicity in the extreme. Here in her home, designed it seemed for these gatherings, we Bandarawelites watched each other as we changed from teenagers to vibrant young mothers and onto grey-haired grandmothers sans competition and rivalry whatsoever.

Her sil programmes at Vesak gathered momentum over the years and non-Visakhians joined in. Eminent bhikkhus and citizens accepted her invitation to address her erudite audience on a heavy scheduled day. She welcomed all.

Her open house had no limits. It was only five years ago, when I moved to our old home near to Malini that the quiet friendship between us suddenly soared into a sweet intimacy. Since I was now somewhat house-bound, we reached each other through the telephone which we used like an inter-com. She was the kind of friend to whom I could send a piece of cake, a few springs of flowers, a painkiller at night when she 'phoned to say her spine was aching. It is not to everyone you could send such trifles. Her staff would bring me her cutlets and sandwiches whenever she made them.

Although Malini was deeply spiritual and spent herself caring for the bhikkhus in the temple, she was full of zest for the joys of life. In her seventies, in between running to doctors, she walked across to show me her fancy dress for some event at the Women's International. She won first prize.

She had a heart of gold. A beautiful compassion the Buddha spoke of, which in this cruel world often brought her misery. She was fleeced. She was robbed. Her hospitality was sometimes abused.

This last month she was none too well. But she was looking forward to a cruise a son was taking her to and was packed and ready to go to the airport for Singapore. But her flight was not to Singapore. She had removed her brilliant ear-rings and asked the maid to wash them well to offer to the Dalada Maligawa. Her last thought - The Buddha. There was no next thought wave. She was gone.

To us Bandarawelites she was a treasure. There could be no doubt that in her next birth she will have pirivara-retinue galore of friends.

May she attain Nibbana.

Manel

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Patriot who worked tirelessly to protect the Buddha Sasana

Gamini Perera

Gamini Perera – chartered engineer, old boy of Royal College, Colombo, past president of the Dharmavijaya Foundation and SUCCESS Colombo, and founder of the Joint Committee of Buddhist Associations – passed away, after a brief illness, on May 6, 2010. He was 80 years. 
Gamini worked as chartered engineer in Hong Kong for 14 years before returning to serve his motherland.

He was a tireless champion for Buddhist rights, and dedicated more than three decades of his life to protecting and furthering the Buddha Sasana in Sri Lanka.

He brought together a number of Buddhist organisations under the umbrella of the Joint Committee of Buddhist Organisations. The committee – comprising Dharmavijaya; the All-Ceylon Buddhist Congress; the All-Ceylon Women’s Buddhist Congress; the Young Men’s Buddhist Association; the Buddhist Times; the Centre for Buddhist Action, and SUCCESS Colombo and Kandy – was set up to protect Buddhist rights, places of worship and Buddhist archaeological sites in the North and East, especially the Deegawapi.

He gave much of his time, effort and money to campaign against the unethical conversion of poor Buddhists to other faiths. He also contributed generously, through the Lady Gimara Fernando Trust, for the construction and renovation of Buddhist places of worship.

Dr. Anula Wijesundere

Father found his heaven among his people of Nattandiya

Harold Herat

My father had a mission to dedicate his entire life to public service. It started with hope, and it ended with the fulfillment of a long-cherished dream.

It is three years since my father passed away (on August 31, 2007), but it feels like an eternity. Whenever I visit his beloved electorate, Nattandiya, I feel his presence in every nook and corner.

The Marawila post office, the massive bridge in Iranawilla dedicated to the fishing community, every church and temple in the electorate – all these benefited from his contribution, even in a small way.
His beloved people looked up to him as their saviour; his clean leadership will be hard to replace.

The only time I saw my father hold his head down and weep was when he received a call to say that the Prime Minister Ranasinghe Premadasa had been assassinated. He sat at his office table and was silent for hours. My father was down with chickenpox, but that evening he got dressed and rushed to Colombo to attend to the final arrangements for his beloved leader. I cherish such dear memories.

I do not remember a day my father missed Sunday service, even during the height of JVP insurgency. He would drive to his small chapel in Mudukatuwa, kneel down and pray.

He taught us to be thankful for our blessings, to be humble in all ways, and to create harmony in life and among people. He worked seven days a week for the betterment of his people; on Sundays, he worked a half-day in order to have time with the family.

That was when you saw him relaxed and happy, at home, in his white sarong. There were many Sundays he could not join us because of commitments in his electorate. Although his duties must have been at times tiring, he never complained.

The family misses him dearly. We miss his large presence at the dinner table, his voice on the telephone, his driving around in white garb in Nattandiya, his presence at the tennis courts most evenings, and mostly, we miss his big smile and sparkling eyes when he was among his people.
Looking back, I realise he had found his heaven among his people of Nattandiya.

As his youngest daughter, I thought of writing this article to share a few moments of my father’s life.
When I read the following words, I remember my father and his teachings:

“If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it. ”

Parveen Herat

He had reached the Himalayan heights of his medical career

Dr. Anantham Harin

Dr Anantham Harin earned a rare mix of undiluted superlatives: an outstanding humanitarian, a brilliant award-winning physician, a dedicated husband and a resolutely-steadfast friend.

Affectionately called "Hari" by legions of friends, he spent nearly 30 years as Director of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Richmond University Medical Centre in the New York City borough of Staten Island.

As a first-rate physician, Hari was anointed -- multiple times-- one of New York city's "best doctors": a prestigious accolade bestowed annually by New York magazine. But modesty prevented him from keeping a count of the number of times he adorned the pages of the widely-read magazine. When he passed away at the age of 65 last month, he had reached the Himalayan heights of his medical career.

Hari was a specialist in neonatal-perinatal medicine and was a onetime clinical Professor of Pediatrics at New York University's School of Medicine. He graduated from the Medical School at the University of Colombo back in 1970.

In his field of speciality, he was responsible for ensuring the survival of hundreds, if not thousands, of infants. In a moving tribute to Hari, Bonnie Gleicher wrote on a Staten Island newspaper blog, that 22 years ago, "Dr. Anantham Harin brought me into the world -- a three-month premature baby -- and now, he has left it. As I thank this man for the healthy, exuberant life he's helped me live, I celebrate his own. The world has few gems, and Dr. Harin was truly one of them.”

In a message to Hari's wife Nirupa, Linda Sarno, another former patient, wrote: "26 years ago, your beloved husband saved my daughter and my life due to my pre-eclampsia. We loved and respected him very much, as many others did. Too soon, but I am sure he is taking care of ALL in heaven."

When his cash-strapped hospital was forced to make budgetary cuts, Hari volunteered to take a 50 percent reduction of his own salary primarily to save the jobs of two of his assistants who would otherwise have been laid off. It was a display of his innate humanitarian qualities.

The tributes at Hari's funeral came from near and far: nurses, doctors, patients, friends, old Royalists and parish priests. As president of the Royal College Old Boys East Coast Association (RCOBECA), he offered a scintillating toast at the annual dance last year. Royal College, he said, has been the cradle for leadership for 175 years. "We rose to different heights, shared a rich history, followed great traditions and on its way produced a long list of distinguished men."

Hari possessed a vibrant sense of humour as he traded jokes and anecdotes with his friends. He was the creator of a group of free thinking, philosophically-bent friends of his generation whom he dubbed the "Sophists". Hari was the leader of the Sophists brotherhood which met at least once a month in a New York city restaurant to talk politics, sports, movies, theatre -- while, all the time, reminiscing the memorable days in school and university back home.

At the RCOBECA dinner last year, Hari fondly remembered a teacher at Royal College who was mischievously dubbed "the sheriff of fractured jaw" : the memorable title of a Hollywood western. Hari quoted the teacher as having famously advised his class: "If you cannot dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bull---t." In real life, Hari opted for brilliance over bull---t.

In his eulogy, Dr Simon Rabinowitz, chair of the Department of Pediatrics at Hari's hospital, said: "While his friendship and his leadership will be missed, his legacy lives on in his many success stories."

TMD

Always a smile and a laugh, despite the suffering

Umanga Charmaine Wanduragala

I met Umanga for the first time, when she suddenly turned up on our doorstep, more than 14 years ago, saying she was Kingsley Wanduragala’s daughter. The Wanduragalas are old family friends. From that moment she was a part of our family, her friendly and easy-going manner winning us over instantly.

Over the years, she became more than just a friend; she was like a sister, sharing my room whenever she was in Colombo (which was quite often), and crying at my wedding.

We would go to Church together. She loved to sing, and her powerful hymn-singing voice would fill the church. She loved to praise God.

It was a very sad time for us when Umanga suffered renal failure. But she showed great courage and faith. Being afflicted with a serious illness at a young age did not stop her from experiencing the joy of living.

She loved to go on trips. She was a constant companion whenever we went on holidays. hristmas was a time of fun, and Umanga added her brand of fun to the season’s cheer.

Umanga’s illness did not stop her from experiencing life. She somehow did what she wanted to do – getting married (to a wonderful husband, Wijey), and having a beautiful and intelligent daughter (Chanuri), in whom Umanga’s qualities and wonderful loving ways will live on, for sure.

Despite the hardships, Umanga always managed a smile and a laugh. She saw the fun side of things, even when straight after dialysis. She never failed to encourage others, even when her own situation seemed hopeless. She never failed to help others, even though she did not get a lot of help in return.

Although she suffered greatly, physically and mentally, Umanga never blamed God for her troubles, nor was she ever angry or resentful to others. She would help anyone at any time, whether friend or foe. Her forgiving nature reflected God’s nature.

Umanga’s passing away has left us without a mother, a wife, a sister and a loyal friend, but her work and the love she showed will live on in our hearts.

Let us hope she is in a happy place, where no illness or sadness can touch her. I hope that some day I will get to meet my friend again, in the presence of the Lord.

We miss and love you, Umanga.

We will never forget you.

Anusha Wickramasinghe

A police officer and gentleman, loved and respected by all

Vimal Samarasekera

Vimal left us on July 7, 2010, and was cremated at the Mount Lavinia Cemetery in the presence of a large gathering of friends, relatives and a host of Police personnel. He was given a full Police funeral.

The Police cortege, comprising all ranks, including the Women Police Corps, set out from the Galle Road and drew up at the side entrance of Kanatte, where Police officers of Vimal’s rank (Senior Superintendents of Police) took charge and carried the coffin to the crematorium.

I met affable Vimal for the first time 30 years ago, when I was officer-in-charge of the Ministers’ Security Division of the Criminal Investigation Department (CID). At the time, we were housed in a railway building within the Fort Railway Station. Vimal was still a Sub-Inspector of Police, with about seven years of service.

There were some 40 Inspectorate officers under me, but Vimal was closer to me than the others, probably because I was drawn by his sincerity and his professional conduct.

Vimal was a product of St. Sylvester’s College, Kandy. He represented the school at football and cricket. As a Sub-Inspector, he was the personal security officer to the late Nissanka Wijeratna, the then Minister of Education. As an ASP, he was security officer to the late Lakshman Kadirgamar, the affable foreign Minister.

Vimal was a perfect gentleman and an excellent Police officer. He will be looking upon you all from where he is now. To conclude this tribute to my dear friend, I quote the English Bard, William Shakespeare:

“His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, ‘This was a man.’ ”

Ananda Jayasena

Charismatic personality will be missed by all

D.A.Stephen

Everyone associated with Carey College in Colombo for the past 60 years would have been deeply saddened by the passing away of David Alexander Stephen. Born on July 2, 1929 he was educated at Kingswood College, Kandy and took to teaching at Carey College as early as 1951. Just prior to his teaching stint there he served as a relief announcer at the then Radio Ceylon, English Service.

Most students came to know him as a Sunday school teacher, chief hostel master, master in charge of the first cadet platoon, chief house master of Carey House, master in charge of the senior English Literary and Dramatic Association and the staff advisor to the Student Christian Association.

Mr. Stephen was a wonderful teacher, good friend and illustrious Christian. He was a dedicated teacher for whom it was a life-long passion. An eloquent teacher of English, a specialised trained teacher in Mathematics, he was an indefatigable admirer of Elizabethan theatre and contemporary poetry. His benevolence was displayed when he even bought books for deserving students.

During the era of the late Rev. W.M.P Jayatunge, when morning school assemblies were a regular feature at Carey, everyone eagerly awaited Fridays, when it was Mr. Stephen’s turn to address the gathering. His characteristic smile and youthful vigour that radiated beyond the classroom touching all hearts, still linger on in our memory.

He was an active link between the Rev. Jayatunge and Rev. Wickramasinghe periods. Mr. Stephen’s charming personality was enhanced by his excellent communication skills. His subtle humour and his humility were part of his intrinsic personality. His loved ones bade him farewell on July 3 this year, but his influence will be remembered by many for years to come.

Dr. Don U. W. Wickrama

He left his footprints on the sands of time

Brian Lourensz

The story I am about to relate is about a man I once knew when I was very young. He is the father of a friend of mine. I knew him when I was between the ages twelve and about 25, and though I met him infrequently thereafter, in those dozen years he left with me certain memories - memories that should I pass through this world and not commit to paper an account of, I would be remiss in a duty to my generation of friends, and in particular to my countrymen.

It'll be obvious to the reader that it is for this reason, and moreover my fondness of him and admiration for his inimitable style that also causes me to write. Some may perhaps find the line blurred between my being nostalgic and being (possibly) obsequious, so for that I apologize at the onset. I attribute that blur to the deference one is usually wont to attach to a unique personality, and my story is indeed such an example.

Brian Lourensz, my friend Simon's father died a few months ago. Every adventure has a cupboard, a keyhole, a borough but in this one, a parapet wall through which you passed into another world. My dear late friend Harith’s home at 292, Bullers Road was one such escape. It was accessed via approximately 100 metres of parapet wall guarded by four German Shepherd dogs owned by four separate owners, whose houses I had to cross and, who were never pleased with my travels along their undulating Kabok.

It was on one of those adventures that I met Uncle Brian. My first recollection of him was his charming smile, firm handshake and crystal clear diction that made his very presence 'foreign'. Something struck you about him which I understood only many years later to be that which is defined as ‘charisma’. On that first meeting, I was given a turn to ride pillion on his motorcycle and was taken on his steed towards Kanatte- it was the first time I had ever travelled at over 100 mph. The thought of death doesn't enter the adolescent mind, and I returned sans helmet with inverted eyelids. In this day and age, the act of travelling on a motorcycle without a helmet would be illegal. In that day though, it was thought of as fearless, so those must have been reckless times.

One evening Simon invited me to the screening of a movie of an aircraft - a sea plane of sorts - that Uncle Brian was about to import. After the screening of what was a promotional movie, Uncle Brian told me I should let my Papa know that this aircraft would get him to his hotel in Trincomalee and home by the sea, and return him to the city the same day. Thinking this was a splendid idea and in the spell of the ‘Late Buccaneer’, I marketed the ‘brilliant’ idea of acquiring a plane to my father who was dismissive of my flight of fancy.

Not prepared to take no for an answer, at my next meeting with Uncle Brian, we conspired that he would fly over my home at 11.30 a.m. on a Sunday morning, which was about the time my father would have returned from St. John's fish market and would be in the kitchen cooking his famous crab curry. So come 11.30 a.m. on a Sunday in Colombo, a young boy paces up and down the kitchen of his home taking an unusual interest in cooking, and conveying to a disbelieving father that an aircraft was about to descend from the heavens and fly past our front door. True to his word, Brian affected a fly past.

There was the scream of a turbine. The whole house shook. A crab bit my father's thumb. Radio Ceylon complained of low-flying aircraft. The Ratmalana control tower censured Brian, and the lunch guests at 292 Bullers Road applauded the ‘Lake Buccaneer’. And I, together with the mad man who flew past, was berated for the rest of that Sunday.

Brian bought not one, but two aircraft. I recall flying with him and Simon and landing on the Kalu Ganga. I enviously witnessed 12-year-old Simon take the controls under the watchful eye of a beaming father. Brian was the agent for Yamaha motorcycles in Sri Lanka and on one occasion, I was invited to Katukurunda, where he commanded the Yamaha pit. Brian had imported a Yamaha TZ 750 which was a copy of a motorcycle raced by Kenny Roberts in the USA, and it was to be ridden here by famed racer U.D. Jinadasa. Jinadasa, a policeman, known for racing a Norton Manx in the good old days, took to the task with alacrity, but the bike proved to be a tad overwhelming for him so he sputtered around the track as though he had lost second gear somewhere between pit and start line. It was as unsightly as seeing Sherga being ridden by Billy Bunter on a school trip to the pyramids.

But the day was not all lost, for the ‘Lake Buccaneer’ repeated its fly past - this time over the Katukurunda race track - and dropped thousands of Yamaha promotional brochures on the track, much to the chagrin of the Jinasena brothers and the Ceylon Motor Sports Club officials who were aghast at this blatant commercialism. The villagers ran all over the track to claim their prize which was the distant dream of a motorcycle. We hip hip hoorayed and incurred the wrath of a few raised Colombo seven eyebrows. The races were temporarily suspended as punctilious officials of the Motor Sport Club, who bereft of their ayahs' and kollas', had to bend in two and three and pick up the remaining leaflets scattered over the tracks.

Many were the frowns that joined eyebrows that day. Brian seemed oblivious to the furore he'd caused. He was an outsider you see, and considered by most an upstart. The trick, of course, was that he could carry such things off. And carry them off in style did he. I might add here that most who considered him in this way suffered from a combination of social ineptness and envy, and it might not surprise the reader that the author has a particular affinity for those with a penchant for thumbing a nose at stuffed shirts!

My family spent their holidays on the East coast in Trincomalee and this gave me another opportunity to meet with Simon, Brian and his wife Aunty Heather. Brian was often at the Sea Anglers Club and I'd meet him there for a chat. I rode a motorcycle when I was 13 and I would wonder from Uppuvelli waving at Policemen and Air Force personnel and arrive at Brian’s boatyard. I was awestruck by some of the world’s most luxurious sailing craft he built in China Bay. I'd investigate the boats and he'd quip in his exquisite accent “Big Cadi, did you know that timber from two dozen teak trees was used to build the deck and trimmings on this boat?.” I am not therefore, as a result of these encounters, the environmentalist I might have been!

To be taken to Marble Bay and the coves of Trincomalee by boat by Brian is to have lived life. The hidden bays, tales of ship wrecks, the reason the water changed colour at certain points, the species of fish that lived here and there, and why all those oil tanks were built and left to rust in one of the deepest natural harbours on the planet. He once landed the Buccaneer and alighted from the cockpit into knee deep salt water of the Nillaveli surf, linen-suited and briefcase in hand.

He then 'squished' his way to the bar and in a style reminiscent of Bond, asked the barman for a whisky, utterly unperturbed by his soggy footwear. He had the gait of a Greek ship owner walking out to his Island on the Aegean, but please dismiss any natural visualization of Stavros Nicharos or Onassis. This man was STATELY!

It was on one of those trips that I learned that Uncle Brian had invented, yes invented, the kerosene outboard motor. This patent, which he later sold to Yamaha, enabled fisherman the world over to upgrade themselves from outrigger canoes to motorized fishing at very little cost. This is perhaps his most significant contribution to mankind. Every fisherman in the third world from Kota Kinabalu to Mombasa to Oluvil, has a kerosene outboard motor thanks to Uncle Brian, and though he did not attach much value to his invention, he ensured its widespread benefits through his relationship with his Japanese friends at Yamaha.

Always the inventor, there were many projects he was constantly involved in - projects often researched and experimented at great cost to his core businesses. A dreamer if there ever was one, he also built the shallow water Naval craft using Hamilton ets from New Zealand. In the early eighties, this gave the Navy considerable advantage in their Northern operations. I guess because Brian was not cut from that all too common cloth that makes sycophants of men, he never got the contracts he ought to have, and for those he did, he was often not paid on time ... situations he accepted with equanimity and characteristic good humour.

All this brings me to the reason I wrote this note. In today’s world, it is who you know, who you kow tow to, and the quantum of money you have to get ahead of everyone else, that matters. What did you create? How industrious were you? And how generous were you to those who needed your assistance? These are questions that seem, sadly, to matter very little nowadays.

In absolute contrast, the men of my childhood were true MEN. They dared to dream. It was anathema to them to simply eke out an existence through pelf or bribery. They were bold Men. Great Men whose magnificence illuminated their ideas.

I leave you with a poem by T.E. Lawrence that reminds me of Uncle Brian. "All men dream but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible".

Sherhan Caderamanpulle

Hand in hand, we walked the roads of life together

Victoreen M. Hassan

It is with profound sadness that I write about my loving wife, Victoreen M. Hassan. We saw the love in our eyes the day we met, and your smile that said, Stay awhile to love me. We knew our lonely days had ended.

We were married on October 8, 1968. The next 40 years, and more, were spent in wedded bliss, filled with fun, laughter and joy. She passed away peacefully on August 25, 2008 after a brief illness.

Victoreen was loving and caring, the greatest blessing in my life. We prayed together as one from the day we married until her untimely death. Now I pray alone the prayers we prayed together.

Vicky, precious memories are all I have of you. No more will I see the love shining in your eyes, the tender words you spoke to me so softly. You have gone far away from me.

I struggle hard just to carry on. Although you are gone, I know you are near me and my fears disappear. My only consolation is that you are now with God. I had your love for a lifetime. You made me smile when I was sad, and you were always there to comfort me.

Every morning, evening and night we thanked our lucky stars that we found each other. Hand in hand, we bravely faced each new day. Side by side, we walked the roads of life together as one, each step drawing us closer.

To know we will meet some day is my only comfort. I cherish the love you gave me and thank God for the gift of your life. I welcome each new day with faith and hope. Wherever Victoreen was, I was there for her, always beside her and always near her. She was my one shining star.

Thank you, Victoreen, for the generous sacrifices you made for me and our children, and the love, affection and care you showered on me.

Thank you for being what you were. 
Darling Vicky, with love in our hearts, we will walk together. 
Deeply missed by your loving husband,

M. Kamil A. Hassan

Tribute to a brother who played all his roles in life with honour and dedication

Hussain Rahim

Hussain Rahim was my immediate younger brother, born four years after me. Despite our differences, we remained close for 59 years, until his departure on August 8, 2010, two months short of his 60th birthday.

What moves through us now is a silence and a quiet sadness. There is a longing for just one more day together, one more word, one more touch. Little by little, we realise his life has given us memories too beautiful to forget. So, rather than mourn his death, let us celebrate his life.

Hussain belonged to the Royal College 1962 Group. He was a good sportsman. After captaining the college Under-16 cricket team in 1966, he found himself in the First XI squad for the 1966/1967 season. For some unknown reason, he did not figure in the Royal-Thomian of 1967. He was the 12th man on the side. Shortly after, he quit cricket to focus on athletics, and went on to represent the school at sports meets. A glowing moment was when he won the Under-16 440 yards challenge trophy at the inter-house sports meet in 1966, four years after I had laid hands on the same prize.

In the 1969/1970 cricket season, I coaxed him to forget the past and get on with life. He finally agreed to get back into the game. Getting into the team after a three-year lay-off was not easy. But he applied himself with a firm resolve and found a place in the team. He grabbed the opportunity with both hands, and found himself playing in the Royal-Thomian of 1970, at the Colombo Oval. Sportswriter T. M. K. Samath wrote in a special box story in the Observer: “When Royal’s M. H. Rahim walked out to bat in the 91st Battle of the Blues, it marked a unique achievement. He is the first Malay in 42 years, since M. S. Ahamath, to play in the big match”.

I took along my parents, who saw their first and only Royal-Thomian cricket match. Hussain was elated to see them in the invitees’ block, reserved for the players’ parents. He won the Fielding Prize for his fine performance that season. He also turned out for the Colombo Malay Cricket Club in the early Seventies.

After leaving school, he joined an accounting firm and continued to play sports. In 1976, he married his sweetheart, Mufliha Jaldin, and they had two children, a boy and girl, who were brought up in the best Islamic tradition. Son followed father at Royal, and like his father, the son represented the school in sports. He was in the Royal College First XV rugby team and won his rugby colours. The daughter studied at Sirimavo Bandaranaike Balika Vidyalaya and graduated with a Bachelor of Information degree from the University of Colombo School of Computing.

Hussain was deeply religious and performed Haj twice. The first time was to fulfil his obligation as a Muslim, the second to accompany his dear wife on her first holy pilgrimage. In later years, he built a separate prayer room, adjoining his house, where he spent many an hour in spiritual communion with Allah.

Hussain was laid to rest on August 9, 2010, as the sun was setting and the shadows of the adjoining buildings began to lengthen on the Kohilawatte Muslim Burial grounds, by the banks of the Kelani River.

A dear friend said: “It was a very well attended funeral, and the sermon reflected the high esteem in which your brother was held by the local community.”

Goodbye, Hussain. May your path to joining the Creator be free of obstacles, and in the fullness of time may Allah grant you the Bliss of Jinnathul Firdouse, which you so richly deserve.

Branu Rahim

I was lucky to have called her my grandmother

Anula Robert Pathikirikorale

Ninety two years ago in a small rural town bordering the southern skirts of Sri Lanka, a baby girl took her first breath and opened her eyes for the first time. Who would have known that this baby named Anula Sophia Gooneratne would have such a profound and far-reaching influence on all our lives.

In her later years, when she used to reminisce on her childhood, she would always joke about the fun and mischief she got up to during her convent days. I remember vividly one story she told us when she used to travel by rickshaw to school and how the schoolboys in the area used to shout out “Anula my sweet” “Anula my sweet”. It made us laugh imagining the fun of schoolchildren of that era. As the years rolled by, she blossomed into a young lady and subsequently married Robert Pathikirikorale, a dashing young Sub Inspector of the Police from the Kalutara District.

Her proudest achievements were bringing up her four lovely children Lilamani, Gaya, Nalin and Jayantha, my Thathi, the baby of the family. She did this for the most part on her own as her husband passed away unexpectedly in 1955, shortly after my Thathi’s birth. At that time she was only 35 years old and there was no real financial support given to young widows, but she was adamant to send all her children to good schools, so that they would have better opportunities to succeed in life.

The hardships that come with bringing up four young children on one’s own with no financial support to count on, would have terrified most people, but she never shied away from the challenge, being an incredibly strong and determined woman. As the years progressed and her children excelled in their personal and working life with careers and families of their own, she was proud of their achievements.

When, we the grandchildren were born, she was overjoyed. Being the youngest of her grandchildren, I still recall all the fun times we shared. She used to recall the pranks she used to play on her stern governess Mrs. Woutersz, when she was young.

I keenly remember one late night in Galle when it was nearly bed time and she was finishing one of her many stories, we were just about falling asleep when we heard a loud bang. When we opened our eyes, we gasped as Achchi had her legs high in the air doing her nightly exercises.

I remember another time when Achchi came on a visit to Australia. She and my other Achchi were discussing each other’s height and one thing led to another and a height competition ensued. Akki and I tried leaving the room to avoid the imminent battle ahead and risk alienating one grandma or the other if we said one was taller than the other. With no luck of escaping, it was obvious to me that Galle Achchi was shorter, but I couldn’t say so and ended up saying they were both of equal height. This made both Achchis’ happy and I dodged a bullet!

Even in the final years of her life, she was always up for a laugh. I remember a recent telephone conversation where I knew she was suffering from aches and pains, yet she managed to joke about playing rugger in the backyard and dancing with the devil dancers, when we come down.
Galle Achchi had such a profound effect on all of us.

The laughter and joy she brought to us will live on as wonderful memories for the rest of our lives. I will pass on these vivid memories to my children and their children, of this strong, devoted, loyal and fun-loving person that I was lucky enough to call my grandmother.

It is difficult to accept that she’s gone, but the suffering is over and she’s at peace. Akki and I pass all our merits to Achchi. May she attain Nibbana!

Gimhani Pathikirikorale

A star that burnt so bright not only through the night, but constantly

Malsiri De Silva

Ninety two years ago in a small rural town bordering the southern skirts of Sri Lanka, a baby girl took her first breath and opened her eyes for the first time. Who would have known that this baby named Anula Sophia Gooneratne would have such a profound and far-reaching influence on all our lives.

In her later years, when she used to reminisce on her childhood, she would always joke about the fun and mischief she got up to during her convent days. I remember vividly one story she told us when she used to travel by rickshaw to school and how the schoolboys in the area used to shout out “Anula my sweet” “Anula my sweet”. It made us laugh imagining the fun of schoolchildren of that era. As the years rolled by, she blossomed into a young lady and subsequently married Robert Pathikirikorale, a dashing young Sub Inspector of the Police from the Kalutara District.

Her proudest achievements were bringing up her four lovely children Lilamani, Gaya, Nalin and Jayantha, my Thathi, the baby of the family. She did this for the most part on her own as her husband passed away unexpectedly in 1955, shortly after my Thathi’s birth. At that time she was only 35 years old and there was no real financial support given to young widows, but she was adamant to send all her children to good schools, so that they would have better opportunities to succeed in life.

The hardships that come with bringing up four young children on one’s own with no financial support to count on, would have terrified most people, but she never shied away from the challenge, being an incredibly strong and determined woman. As the years progressed and her children excelled in their personal and working life with careers and families of their own, she was proud of their achievements.

When, we the grandchildren were born, she was overjoyed. Being the youngest of her grandchildren, I still recall all the fun times we shared. She used to recall the pranks she used to play on her stern governess Mrs. Woutersz, when she was young.

I keenly remember one late night in Galle when it was nearly bed time and she was finishing one of her many stories, we were just about falling asleep when we heard a loud bang. When we opened our eyes, we gasped as Achchi had her legs high in the air doing her nightly exercises.

I remember another time when Achchi came on a visit to Australia. She and my other Achchi were discussing each other’s height and one thing led to another and a height competition ensued. Akki and I tried leaving the room to avoid the imminent battle ahead and risk alienating one grandma or the other if we said one was taller than the other. With no luck of escaping, it was obvious to me that Galle Achchi was shorter, but I couldn’t say so and ended up saying they were both of equal height. This made both Achchis’ happy and I dodged a bullet!

Even in the final years of her life, she was always up for a laugh. I remember a recent telephone conversation where I knew she was suffering from aches and pains, yet she managed to joke about playing rugger in the backyard and dancing with the devil dancers, when we come down.
Galle Achchi had such a profound effect on all of us.

The laughter and joy she brought to us will live on as wonderful memories for the rest of our lives. I will pass on these vivid memories to my children and their children, of this strong, devoted, loyal and fun-loving person that I was lucky enough to call my grandmother.

It is difficult to accept that she’s gone, but the suffering is over and she’s at peace. Akki and I pass all our merits to Achchi. May she attain Nibbana!

Gimhani Pathikirikorale

A true family man and dear friend who left us all too soon

Neomal Dissanayake

It is three months since Neomal Dissanayake passed away. He was 38 years. His departure was like a flash, hard to believe. How unprepared we are for life’s harsh realities.

No one thought that fateful Good Friday night would be a time of farewell. Neomal’s grieving mother recalls how he waved and smiled when she stopped at the hospital room door before leaving. The following day, before dawn, Neomal answered God’s call. His beloved wife Nirosha was by his side. It was heartbreaking news to everyone.

Neomal was born on July 9, 1971, the only son of a devoted Roman Catholic couple, Noel and Calista Dissanayake, of Bogamuwa, Yakkala. Neomal had his primary and secondary education at De Mazenod College, Kandana. He chose accounting, following in his father’s footsteps. He was a true family man – obedient son, loving and caring husband, and caring older brother to sisters Anjalee and Kishani; a very caring grandson to his 90-year-old grandfather; a loving “maama” to little Nethmini, Jude and Damian. His brothers-in-law Piyavi and Amila were like his own brothers.

Neomal was always ready to help. Caste and creed were not in his vocabulary. The large gathering that came to bid him goodbye at his funeral says it all.

Everyone has some special memory of Neomal. I too have one special memory. Despite a busy schedule, Neomal once accompanied my elderly mother to visit a priest in Kurunegala for a special blessing. It was my mother’s wish.

I had the privilege of associating with Neomal for close on a decade. I will miss our long chats on politics, religion, music, books – everything. There were also the practical jokes. He had a great sense of humour. He also gave very good advice.

This very religious man never failed to be part of the church activities, and he was a source of strength to all – to the priests, the congregation and the family.

We pray for you, dear Neomal. Your departure has left an emptiness that cannot be filled. We pray for your family too. Thank you for all you did.

Thilina Nimalshantha

Little anecdotes that made him who he was

Lt. Colonel Upul Dushmantha de Lanerolle

He left us on July 31, 1999 and his birthday is August 15. This is not just the outpouring of a grieved mother but also the deep love of a mother for a dear departed son. Many and varied are the appreciations and articles written for and about him. Through them, even those who didn’t know him would have obtained a clear picture of him. But what I want everyone to know are the small details which maybe only his close friends would know.

Upul had a strong grip in so much that when he shook someone’s hand, that person’s palm would turn red and the knuckles would stand out. Whenever he came around to sit with his brother officers, they would say ‘Hide your hands, Lane is coming’ (Lane was short for Lanerolle- their pet name for him).

He had his faults, of course, but he would never hurt anyone wilfully. Once he slapped a minor staff soldier and to his horror saw weals standing out on the man’s cheeks. He ran to the Mess kitchen got a pot of hot water and rushed to the minor staff quarters. So many soldiers pleaded to be allowed to take the pot but to no avail.

H e took his foam mattress as well, got another soldier to put the soldier on it and fomented his face till the red weals were all gone.

As the then Colonel Wadugodapitiya said, when Upul said something disparaging to a friend, he couldn’t rest till he had apologized. Then and there he would go up to the friend and say ‘I’m sorry’.
When I was Madam Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s Private Secretary and working at the Prime Minister’s office, Upul would come unannounced. No one was allowed to pass through the gates but Upul ‘s jeep was allowed.

He would dash into my office with a friend or two and ask for executive lunches for them. From my desk drawer he would take the chocolates that he knew I kept for him and give me a big hug. I would soon dispatch a peon to get the lunches for him.

He came to my office always in his officer’s uniform but one day he came in civils. My clerk remarked “Upul Sir is always handsome but today he is more handsome than any other day.” It breaks my heart to think that that was his last visit. I implore the deities above that he be born in a a good place.

The blessings of the Holy Triple Gem and all the deities be on my beloved younger son Upul Dushmantha de Lanerolle.

Amma

The last of the “Buccaneers”

Dr. S. Mahalingam

In Royal College, Colombo, in the late ‘fifties’, there was a group of students who called themselves the “Buccaneers”. And true to their name they engaged in all manner of mischief much to the amusement and the occasional discomfort of their peers and superiors. Some illustrious names were among them. The late Minister C.V. (Puggy) Guneratne, the former Chairman of the Coast Conservation Department, the late Sumantha (Summa) Amerasinghe, former tea planter, the late Kumar Gunetilleke were some of them.

The late Dr. S. Mahalingam, former Senior Lecturer, Faculty of Veterinary Sciences, Peradeniya, who passed away a few days ago, was the last of that illustrious group, I believe. As to the antics and reputation of the Buccaneers, suffice it to say that it was only the late Kumar, who would actually admit to being a member or to the group’s existence in their later years!

Dr. Mahalingam (or Magsie, as he was universally known) – academic, confirmed bachelor, raconteur par excellence and a distiller’s best friend was many things to many people, and no doubt, many different things would be said, and remembered, all over the world, at this time of his passing for he was not one to hide his light under the proverbial bushel. His mischievous bonhomie and inimitable good humour were spread and shared with all and sundry. But my best memories of him are from my childhood.

I first met Magsie at (where else?) the Peradeniya University Faculty Club, when my father went up to Peradeniya for his interview for a lecturer’s post some 36 years ago. The ‘Faculty Club’ was at the former Golf Club premises, where the Peradeniya Teaching Hospital now stands. Magsie was surrounded by the likes of R.O. Thattil, Rex Clemens and assorted budding Veterinary and Agriculture academics having a “sing-song” to –as he put it – pay their last respects to a pig, the remains of which, devilled, curried, roasted, lay scattered about on plates interspersed with numerous bottles of “Lion Lager” and the occasional “Old Arrack”. I was ten years old.A month later, my father took up his post at the Medical Faculty, Peradeniya, and we moved to Kandy. As the years passed, Magsie and my father became firm friends and so did we children. For Magsie loved children and we, children, loved him to the point of hero worship. To us, he was like Bertie Wooster come alive. Wherever he went, laughter and good fun followed. We imitated his walk, imitated his talk, and treasured his spontaneous jokes and witticisms in our memories for later use.

My brother and I would long for the weekends when our parents went down to Colombo and Magsie would move in to “baby-sit” us. We would meet up with Magsie at the Queens Hotel lobby after school and head straight to Lyons for a “Lyons Special”. The waiters at Lyon’s all knew him, some of them harking back from his undergraduate days. We would then head to the Faculty Club (on foot to save money!). Magsie would sing German war songs while we marched in step from Kandy to Peradeniya, with him yelling out garbled marching orders which he claimed were from his days as “Company Quartermaster Sergeant” in the Royal College Cadet Corps. Apparently he was cheated of his due promotion to Regimental Sergeant Major due to – as he put it - “jealousy in high places”.

At the Faculty Club, my brother and I would play table tennis, eat chips and drink lemonade, while Magsie and friends “exercised their elbows” as he put it, quaffing mugs of “liquid bread”. Around midnight, with none of us looking forward to walking all the way back to Kandy, Magsie would persuade one of the others at the Club to drop us home. Invariably it was either the late Prof. “Pep” Jayasena or Prof. “Muggy” Varagunam who obliged. Having secured a ride home, he would then work on “Pony” Thangarajah to invite ourselves for lunch the following day, as by now we had finished the money my parents had given us for the weekend, and it was only Friday night.

The next morning, we would, once again, march to Augusta hill where Pony lived at the time. Mrs. Thanga invariably put out a spread of thosais, iddlies, stringhoppers, crab curry etc., into which we would happily dive. We would leave the Thangarajah’s after tea in the afternoon and march on to the Faculty Club, once more, for a repetition of the previous night. Sunday lunch, he would get us an invitation to the Varagunam’s, who thankfully, lived just a short walk away from our house.Magsie loved music. New Orleans jazz and classical music in particular, and he had a fantastic collection of records. When we were learning to play the piano accordion as kids, he bullied, cajoled and coaxed us into learning to play the “Greats” as he put it. Verdi, Offenbach, Beethoven, Ella and Satchmo. Every time he came home, he would get us to play for him.

Magsie also loved Science and the “pursuit of knowledge”. His dedication to his students was without question. His room at the Vet Faculty was an open house for us kids to wander in at any time and be “entertained” by his “cultures” of calf liver cells etc. All narrated in his inimitable self-effacing style of wit and humour. He would actively encourage us in our studies and he would be one of the first to inquire as to our O/level, A/level and later, University results, taking more personal pride and satisfaction in our successes than, perhaps, we did ourselves at the time. He would inspire us and kindle our desires to explore the world of knowledge, with his own experiences at Cambridge, Edinburgh, Glasgow and Toronto, all narrated with side-splitting humour.

Once when I inquired how come he had an M.A. (from Toronto), when he was a scientist, pat came the reply – “It was there that I Mastered the Art of Scientific Research”! When my brother finally made it to Cambridge for his post graduate studies, Magsie was over the moon, and when, finally, my brother and I returned from our studies to join the staff at Peradeniya, where Magsie was still teaching, he was prouder than a hen that had laid its first clutch of eggs! And it was not just the two of us. All the kids who grew up as “Pera kids” at the time would agree that we were all fortunate to experience and be touched by his particular magic.

At the end of the day, many would consider it their privilege to have known Magsie and be touched by him during the course of their lives – be it his students, his colleagues, family or friends. But it was us, kids, who were the most privileged – for he truly loved us, and we, children, of many faiths, races and hues, all loved him. Let’s all raise a final glass to the last Buccaneer – may he rest in peace!

Harin Corea

You left me to save others

Colonel Fazly Laphir

My dearest, darling Fazly,

“Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.”

While others were dying to live
You died for others to live
When others didn’t care for their own
You cared for others as your own

While others wanted everything
To give something in return
You gave more than everything
To let others return

While others avoided and gave up
Complaining things were not perfect
You accepted, faced and acted
Making the possible perfect

While others held back without living and loving
And blamed it on life, society, race or religion
You respected life – sharing, caring and loving
And for others, you let go of life, me and everything

Your everloving Ano

(Colonel Fazly Laphir, PWV, RWP, RSP, Commanding Officer, 1st Regiment Special Forces, died in action on July 19, 1996 while on a rescue mission in Mullaitivu).

She gave her best to school and church

Myrtle Mendis

It was just a few weeks back that we lost our dear friend – Myrtle. Myrtle served the Lord in many ways. In her life at home with her parents she was ready to help her mother, father, brother and sisters. After she married Felix, who was devoted to her, the two of them lived a happy life.

Having served as an organist at Holy Emmanuel Church for a long period, she gave of her best to the Church.

Princess of Wales’ College, where she studied and taught for 37 years, will undoubtedly remember her with much affection. Her pupils always speak of her kindness and dedication when teaching them.

The Princess of Wales’ College Union, or “Old Girls’ Union”, lost a resourceful member. She served as Secretary, Vice President, and later as a Vice Patron. The Union members showed their deep appreciation of her services to the Union, by taking her coffin through the Prince of Wales’ College gate and out through the Princess gate, before taking it to Church. Many present and past pupils and the Principal, were present and sang the school song as they felt it a fitting tribute to her.

During her young days she was an active member of the Moratuwa Y. W. C. A. She was a member of the Moratuwa Women’s Aglow and attended meetings regularly till her last days.

All her relatives and friends miss her because she was loving, helpful and understanding of others’ needs. However, the Lord knew the time was ripe for Myrtle to leave this earthly life and be in His heavenly abode.

The Lord has welcomed her with open arms, saying “Welcome, my good and faithful servant, Myrtle”.

Lorna

A salute from one old Trinitian to another

Ranjit Ratnayake

News of the demise of Ranjit Ratnayake, a loyal old boy of Trinity College Kandy, was received with profound sadness. That he had passed away after a brief illness on Wednesday, June 2, was indeed a shock! He was relatively young – but an incurable illness suddenly claimed this precious life at 63 years.

Ranjit’s connections with Trinity Rugby in the early 90’s, is what brought my fellow Trinity Rugby ‘star’ Franklin Jacob and myself (both Trinity “Lions” and Sri Lanka players in the 60’s), to have close contact and communications with him.

Ranjit was a good ‘team-player’, caring and helpful. His great qualities of leadership were seen particularly in the export garments business, apart from him being a competent, qualified accountant. He later started his own garment manufacturing factory, with the significant support of his wife Maxine. As an influential ‘man about town’ he was known to be generous, forthright and vigilant, as well as persevering to ‘get things done’!

One day in June 1993, Ranjit an enthusiastic College Rugby fan, fondly called “STR” by his school-mates – was all stirred up! We were driving up to Kandy, to help in coaching some of the Trinity Rugby players in ‘kicking’, when he emphatically expressed his concern to me about the Trinity Asgiriya grounds (built in the 1920’s). It was to be taken over by a Government authority to convert it into an International Cricket Stadium. In reality, this vital asset would be lost to all Trinitians involved in various sports activities – except cricket.

At this point, he came up with ‘his idea’ that a new location for Rugby practices and matches, should be found close to Kandy – which I fully endorsed.

In due course, to cut a long story short, on his own initiative he negotiated to obtain four hectares of coconut land in Pallekelle, with the help of the UDA and former President, the late D.B. Wijetunge, who sanctioned it after Cabinet approval was obtained, on a 99 year lease. This also received the ready approval of Principal, Lt. Col. Leonard de Alwis, plus the Trinity Board of Governors. With the expertise of engineers, architects and the advice of two former planters, Wilhelm Balthazaar and Franklin Jacob, the planning and building project, got underway.

Ranjit Ratnayake will long be remembered for the clever, quick, praiseworthy action he took to set-up the plans for a new Rugby Stadium. This huge project, slowly but steadily ‘got off the ground’ and with timely financial support from Hemaka Amarasuriya, Chairman of Singer (Sri Lanka) Ltd., together with Hatton National Bank; Dr. Asoka Balasuriya and many other well-wishers, this Stadium is a reality today!

It would have been a great consolation to Ranjit, having had his wife Maxine by his bedside caring for him. His elder son Rajeev from USA and Maheesa from Dubai along with his petite wife, Sarah Azad arrived in time to bid him ‘farewell’. His grief -stricken brothers and sisters together with many good friends, were present to pay Ranjit their last respects.

Although he has left his Trinity ‘buddies’ here on earth, he is indeed privileged to be with the “Greatest Trinity” up there!

Ken de Joodt

As banker and club member he did his bit for Kandy

Lion Don Winkle Pathirana

The demise of Lion Don Winkle Pathirana last month deprived our community of a sincere and dedicated social worker. Winkle lived the last 15 years of his long and happy life in Colombo to which he moved from Kandy for career reasons. However, he was essentially a Kandy man who studied at Dharmaraja College and worked as a banker mostly in Kandy.

I first met Winkle in Kandy 30 years ago when he became the first manager of the Bank of Ceylon second city branch in Kandy. He ended his distinguished career at the Bank of Ceylon in the early 1990s as one of its most experienced and senior bankers and then moved to the private sector.

Winkle was one of the charter members of the Lions Club of Senkadagala that was established in 1982. He was one of the most committed members of the club. He insisted on ethical conduct in all matters connected with the club and constantly reminded the club members that the main rationale for being a Lion was to render service to the community. In the late 1980s he was at the forefront in the battle to admit women as full members of Lions Clubs that many male members at that time were not quite willing to accept.

For almost quarter of a century Winkle held a major office in the Lions District cabinet. During that period almost every Governor came to rely on Lion Winkle, especially to properly administer the District and its forty plus clubs. With his death the Lions Movement in Sri Lanka lost one of its most dedicated members.

Winkle’s dear wife Mallika pre-deceased him. He is survived by his children Mahesh, Lalani and Channa, their respective spouses Rebecca, Chathura and Anouchka and a host of grandchildren who lost their beloved Seeya.

May he attain Nibbana.

Lion Sam

Desmond Fernando PC

It was a pleasure and a privilege for anyone to have known Desmond Peter Malcolm Fernando MA (Oxon), PC, Barrister-at Law and Advocate, as closely as I did, both here and abroad for nearly 40 long years.

The last time we were abroad together was in Malaysia, where he, Marzuki Darusman (the Chairman of the controversial UN Panel of Experts), an Australian QC and I were International Observers at the Appeal hearing of Dato' Anwar Ibrahim (former Deputy PM of Malaysia) against his conviction for sodomy. A pleasure and privilege it was, not only because of the eminence Desmond had reached, but also due to all that one could learn from him, about our noble profession (whether it be local, regional or global), its history and workings. As there is simply no one here, in my view, as knowledgeable as he was on such matters, it would not be easy to fill the vacuum created by his demise.

We belonged to different generations and backgrounds; he, to an affluent urban family, where he did not have to earn his living; I, to a modest outstation one, where one necessarily had to do so. We had our share of agreements and disagreements, but continued to be friends all these years, invariably meeting him with my wife Shirani, every 31st October, his birthday.

Exasperated by the non-availability of wing collars and bands in the market, I was to make a complaint to him. That was how I first met him in early 1972. He was the (last) Secretary of the then Bar Council of Ceylon, and I, a helpless young advocate apprentice. In his characteristic way, he tried to pacify me by offering a set of his own, which I declined. That was to be the beginning of a long association.

I last met him recently at his bedside at Colombo House. He did not forget to congratulate me on my recent appointment, for which he (and the late Eardley Perera PC) first asked me to apply, more than one and a half decades ago.

As there were only a handful of active advocates at the Bar then, compared to the large numbers today, it was not unusual for a junior like me to have been able to know a senior like him. He was always approachable, unassuming and friendly and, was therefore one of the few rare seniors we could communicate with freely.

We became almost family friends. Though I had the pleasure of knowing his late mother Daisybelle and his only brother, late Trevor, his father the late P.O. Fernando, a top civil servant during the colonial period, had passed away long before I met Desmond.

Like most of his relatives, his secondary education was at St. Joseph's College, Colombo after which he entered the prestigious Oxford University where he obtained an MA. He was called to the Bar from Lincoln's Inn, of which he was later appointed a Bencher.

Desmond had several unique distinctions -- having been the last Secretary of the Bar Council of Ceylon and the first Secretary of the newly-formed unified Bar Association of Sri Lanka (BASL). He was the first and the only Sri Lankan and the second Asian to hold the distinguished office of President of the International Bar Association (IBA). Before this appointment, he served as the IBA’s Vice President, Secretary General and Deputy Secretary General (the last being one which I too was privileged to hold). He also served as Vice President of the International Commission of Jurists (ICJ), and the only member to be elected thrice as President BASL, among others.

Unpredictability, in my view, was one of his personal traits. Of course, he would always justify his position -- genuinely, sometimes even convincingly. One example was when he, after having held the office of Secretary BASL, volunteered to serve as secretary of one of its branches, albeit the largest, Colombo Law Society. Similarly, it was after having led the World Bar that he plunged into the fray for the third time as a candidate for the local presidency. As I (and probably many others) advised him, in doing so, he had nothing to gain but everything to lose. He did win the election vindicating his stand, but did not go for the next term, on advice from many.

He would be long remembered by the grateful for the yeoman services he rendered as president of the BASL during the 1989-1991 period of turmoil. He managed to handle the threats faced by BASL members, some of whom were abducted, tortured and killed, through his inimitable quiet diplomacy. No one would have been able to negotiate as skilfully as he did with the different parties to the conflict.

I am aware of a couple of incidents where his good work of saving lives and securing the freedom of members was hampered, by an over-enthusiastic colleague, who even had no qualms about taking credit for Desmond's good work and those of the previous office bearers in cases such as the abduction and murder of Wijedasa Liyanarachchi, the first lawyer in history to die in the "custody of the law". Desmond was too much of a gentleman to even attempt to put the record straight.

He and Suriya were the champions of the underdog, whether the victims were from the North or the South. This might not have appealed to the conservative majority in the Bar. It was to their Chambers and to their home that many with problems gathered. I am personally aware of at least a dozen members who were being hunted, who were found a safe haven in the West, through their good offices. Desmond was the face, while Suriya worked behind the scenes. She took over the burdens of the Civil Rights Movement from him. My own initiation into the BASL, of which I became a founder member, was solely due to my association with Desmond. He took me to the Chambers of Nimal Senanayake, where a representative body of the former Incorporated Law Society and the Bar Council were engaged in drafting the proposed BASL Constitution.

It was therefore natural that Desmond was a candidate at the first election of the BASL in 1975. Despite belonging to the minority (of Advocates), outnumbered many times by the former Proctors, he managed to be elected, over two active members of the former Law Society, along with the late H.W. Jayawardane QC, the first president. Though they belonged to different political orientations, they worked well together, and in harmony, setting up the foundations of the BASL, (which is now in its 35th year) from a small room in the former Colombo Law Library.

He was later elected president in 1989 defeating the formidable and popular Jayantha de Z. Gunasekera, an islandwide criminal practitioner. Desmond, on the contrary, was confined to Colombo and that too, to the civil, labour and appellate Courts, whenever he found the time among his many other commitments.

He did not forget (except during his brief unpredictable escapades) the importance of those two elections, and the chance he unexpectedly received to represent the BASL at the IBA in the absence of the late H.L. de Silva. Without this opportunity, he would have never become the president of IBA. He openly acknowledged this at a felicitation dinner held for him by the Kochi Bar Association in Japan on his appointment as President of IBA. It is at this ceremony that he presented a pair of silver cufflinks of the IBA to the president of the Asian Legal Research Institute (ALRI), Japan and a neck tie to me. I could not help but say in reply "All Desmond's gifts have been around my neck".
During these years, not only did we travel together to IBA meetings around the world, but also spent some interesting times at ALRI in Japan, thrice for over three months. He first came there when he was invited to the East-West Centre in Honululu and, spent about a week.

I was able to have him invited again for a couple of months to advise and assist me, when the first Asian Lawyers' Conference was being organised in 1981. Our hard work was reciprocated with him being elected a Vice President and I, the Secretary- General, of the new All Asia Bar Association (AABA).

Speaking of his unpredictability, as many would know, though I played some role in his two election campaigns, Desmond surprised me by wanting to "think about" my request for him to sign my nomination for BASL presidency in 1999. He did so once again, by asking me to sign his, when he contested for the third time. I had to decline, not as a "tit for tat", but because his opponent Ikram Mohamed PC had signed mine as a proposer, while he was "thinking about" it.

Probably due to the way he had been brought up, he could not believe that there could be anyone who is not a gentleman. Some made good use of this failing, (if one could call it so) of his. He was one with whom anyone could discuss even the most controversial matter, objectively. Sometimes his objectivity was misunderstood. A very good sense of humour was another enjoyable quality. On occasions he disappointed me, I could tell him "I do not need enemies, when I have friends like you".

Desmond had no time to look after the property he inherited, which Trevor did. His Chamber was always a hub of intellectual activity. He therefore had to phone to ask me before one Sinhala New Year, "How do I get to Akurawa Estate?" Many may find it difficult to believe. But, that was Desmond.
We were all surprised to read in the media, his open praise in Oslo, of President Premadasa's non-interference with the judiciary. Knowing of my support to Desmond, many complained to me about it. I knew that he would have had a good reason to do so. He did convince me of why he did it.
With Desmond's passing away, we have lost one of the most active members of the Bar, a distinguished international legal luminary, a fighter for others’ rights and, above all, a thorough gentleman, now a rare species, I, a good friend, mentor and critic.

He was a devout Catholic. Now that he has gone back to his Creator, "may Desmond rest in peace, until we meet again".

Upali A. Gooneratne

The good doctor behind a volunteer army of healing hands

Dr. Vajiranath Luxman De Silva

The nation mourns the demise of Dr. Vajiranath Luxman de Silva, who passed away after a long illness, at the age of 82. He was the founder of the Sri Lanka Saukyadana Movement, a truly national medical and first aid movement, Dr. Luxman (as he was known to his friends) was a rare combination of medical talent, commitment to serve, and leadership. He led thousands of youth volunteers in the service of the nation. He believed in self-reliance, and he refused to yield to external forces.

He drew on Meththa and Karuna in his service to needy communities. The Saukyadana movement provides health and medical services to the needy, free of charge, with loving kindness, through dedicated volunteers.

The idea for the Saukyadana movement came to Dr. Vajiranath Luxman de Silva 50 years ago, when he was leading a team of young doctors up Sri Pada. He was impressed by the pilgrims’ determination to reach the shrine at the top of the mountain, despite the physical difficulties involved, including extreme weather conditions. He wondered what he could do to make the journey easier.

He then came up with the idea of a dedicated medical unit to provide pilgrims first aid and medical aid, free of charge, in a spirit of compassion.

Thus was born the Saukyadana Movement. Young medical doctors, nurses and well-wishers set up posts along the path up Sri Pada and provided free medical services. The Sri Pada initiative was subsequently extended to all places of religious significance, and also at festivals, regardless of the religion.

The state declared the movement an approved charity, and the Ministry of Education provided facilities for schools to spread the benefits and services of the movement to the community.
The Saukyadanians work on one golden principle – that all who join the movement offer their services in a spirit of volunteerism, with no desire for personal gain. The only returns would be the satisfaction and contentment that come with doing good for others.

Through school programmes, the movement groomed young people to be social leaders, giving them organisational, management and leadership skills.

Many know about the movement, but not much about the good doctor behind the movement. He shunned publicity. The story of Dr. Luxman is the story of the Sri Lanka Saukyadana Movement.
May he be blessed with the Supreme State of Nibbana.

Yasapala Nanayakkara

Modest Malli, teacher and principal, was loved by his students and staff

Upali Nanayakkara

Upali Nanayakkara was a teacher with extraordinary qualities and talents who touched the lives and hearts of countless students.

It will be eight years (on July 19) since my beloved Malli, Upali, passed away. Eight years have gone by, and I still cannot believe he has left us forever. He was a dutiful son, a devoted husband, a loving brother, a precious father (to his only child, Shashi), and a dedicated teacher.

Malli was a product of St. John’s College, Panadura. He began his teaching career as a science-trained teacher at Wadduwa Central College, Gampaha Central College, and later Ginigathhena Maha Vidyalaya.

He then assumed duties as Vice-Principal of St. John’s College, Panadura. At the time of his retirement, he was Principal (Grade I) of Maha Vidyalaya, Bekkegama.

Persons of Malli’s calibre are rare indeed. Malli was a disciplinarian, but he was much loved by his students and his staff. He was modest, humble and honest, and never spoke ill of others. He would go out of his way to help others. He was a favourite among his students, and he never charged fees for tuition.

Malli, you were not just a brother, you were also my best friend. I will not forget the sad look on your face when you begged me to stay by your side at the nursing home. You were in great pain and distress.

With silent tears I think of you, my beloved Malli. You did so much for your only child – far beyond what is expected. He is still mourning. Your beloved wife passed away recently. You are remembered by your beloved son, your family and your loved ones. We will cherish our memories of you, my beloved Malli.

May you be born as my own brother once again, with the blessings of the Most Holy Triple Gem, and all the merits derived from all alms we give in memory of you.

Your beloved brother,

V. A. D. R. Nanayakkara