Plus

Appreciations

Courage and hard work of a Lankan woman in New York
Charmi Chankamanie Dias Abeyagunawardena-Mukerjee
She came to New York City from Sri Lanka with only $240 in her pocket. Four decades later, she had not only transformed her own life, but also the lives of her family and those she helped along the way.

Charmi Chankamanie Dias Abeyagunawardena-Mukerjee, mother of two, microbiologist, philanthropist and former Senior Research Scientist at Colgate-Palmolive Co. in Piscataway, New Jersey, where she lived with her family, died on Sunday, March 20, in Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital in New Brunswick, New Jersey. She was 59.

At the age of nineteen, Charmi stepped off a plane in New York City wanting only one thing: to further her education so she could take care of her family back home. Charmi wished to continue what she started in Sri Lanka, helping to support her family after her father died when she was sixteen.

Charmi wanted to be a physical therapist so she could help others, plus she loved science. Before she was able to bring this goal to fruition, Charmi lived at the YWCA for three months, working at a department store and eating Twinkies and tuna fish to save money. Because her first priority was always her family, she sent most of the money she earned to them back in Sri Lanka.

Without an official transcript from her school in Sri Lanka, Charmi was able to convince the Dean of Admissions to allow her to enrol at New York University simply by explaining why and under what circumstances she came to the United States. While at NYU, Charmi would volunteer by helping to take care of cancer patients; inconspicuously, she would clean the patients in an effort to humanize the dying process.

Charmi also became a United States citizen and managed to bring to America one of her older brothers and her younger sister from Sri Lanka. (She was in the process of bringing her mother from Sri Lanka too; but was unable to after her mother suffered a stroke and eventually died while in transit.)

After marrying her husband, Pradip Mukerjee, in 1974 and having two children, Amitab (in 1976) and Sirimal (in 1978), Charmi left NYU. A few years later, after creating a secure home environment for her children and husband, Charmi moved to Kean University in Union, New Jersey, to complete her undergraduate degree, which she eventually changed to Medical Technology. Remarkably, Charmi would go to school full-time during the day, take care of her children in the afternoon and work full-time at night (at Roche Biomedical Laboratories), averaging only three hours of sleep each night.

Soon Charmi began a long and illustrious career at Colgate-Palmolive Co. where she, among other things, piloted the Colgate Junior release in the United States, all the while obtaining a Master's degree in Microbiology and Molecular Genetics at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey, in 1992; bringing to America yet another older brother from the United Kingdom; and being an active member in the American Society of Clinical Pathologists, the American Society of Medical Technologists and the American Society of Microbiologists-Theobald Smith Society.

In 1997, Charmi was diagnosed with scleroderma, a connective tissue disorder that progressively hardens tissue cells, keeping organs from functioning properly.

With over 70% of her lung tissue effectively dead, doctors told her she had only three years to live. With the sheer strength, determination and perseverance that helped her accomplish so much prior to this diagnosis, Charmi lived for eight more years. To be sure, her illness did not stop her in any regard: Charmi founded UNITY; a not-for-profit entity whose mission is to support the development of her alma mater, Visakha Vidyalaya; helped raise money for New Jersey's first Buddhist Vihara; helped raise monetary and other support for the tsunami victims in Sri Lanka; and helped support underprivileged people in Sri Lanka.

Charmi was extremely proud of her heritage and always believed that education was a means to empowerment. She embodied the notion that if one works to start something, he or she should complete it with flying colours.

It was Charmi's work ethic and determination that she left her two sons, the youngest a law student and the eldest a lawyer. Indeed, Charmi was a source of inspiration and courage to whomever she met.

Along with her husband and two sons, Charmi is survived by one brother, Janaka Dias Abeyagunawardena, and sister, Ramya Dias Abeyagunawardena-Dehghani.

Sirimal R. Mukerjee

He knew more about peace
Lakshman Wijewardene
I never met Lakshman Wijewardene but I was able to communicate with him after meeting his son, Haritha, my student at Mansfield University in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania in the Middle Atlantic region of the United States. I was impressed by Haritha, who led our university delegation to the Model UN Session in New York, and began to correspond with his father, Lakshman.

From the very beginning I sensed something different about this internationally educated legal scholar in his dedication to peace. It was not only what he knew but how he knew. I came to realize over the years that he knew more about peace than others because of his Buddhist background. Even though I am not a Buddhist, in having been raised a Catholic and educated by Jesuits, I became interested in Buddhism as a result of Lakshman's example.

Personally and professionally, he was first and foremost a man of authenticity in following the morality of peace rather than any partisan politics of peace. Gandhi taught that the philosophy of the end has to be inherent in the means to the end, and that philosophy characterized the presence of peace that Lakshman added to the message of peace. We need not say "May he rest in peace" because there is no maybe in the fact that he has always rested in peace. May the rest of us never rest in doing our best to find and promulgate the presence as well as the message of peace that characterized his life.

Dr. Edward Ryan

Symbol of simpliciy
S. K. Krishnananda
As the years speed on, carrying with them the loving memories of those who had the privilege of going ahead of us, the name of S. K. Krishnananda glows with a significant lustre. Certainly it was with a gentle and unruffled hand, that death took Krish like a friend and handed him back to his other consciousness, thus bringing down the curtain on a well-shared life.

His deep sense of charity, empathy and understanding were symbolic of solace, comfort and indeed monumental altruism. Krish's life was one of unfeigned simplicity. It is when a person of his nature is no longer with us that we realize that we had been walking with saints. He was God's gift to us.

He was a gentleman with a high sense of integrity while at the same time fair and firm with all who associated with him, irrespective of caste, creed and language. It may not be out of place to quote the following poetic lines: "For when the one great scorer comes to write against his name, he writes not how he won or lost but how he played the game".

Thus a humble and simple man deserves an appreciation. Death is so sad and painful it leaves the living with a loss that can never be replaced.
Ludette

Down memory lane… at Penideniya training college
Hema de Mel Dear Mrs. de Mel,
It is almost three years ago that you left us. Carl and I visited you in hospital a few weeks before the final call came. We were sad to see your frail form lying on the hospital bed. Holding your gentle worn hand I went down memory lane, recalling incidents of those long ago pastoral days. The care you lavished on the old and the young, on the wealthy and the not so wealthy was the golden thread that ran through these memories.

We spoke of Girly and Manel, Tiny and Leela, of Ranjini and the gentle gracious Mrs. Jayasinghe. Each time I mentioned a name or an incident you gently pressed my hand so I knew you were with me when we walked up the Penideniya Hill and peeped into the homes of our colony friends.

A few years before your final call came I visited you on Christmas day, you were quite amused with yourself as you had forgotten it was Christmas day! You had no children of your own, but many considered you their mother.

I was the first bride to leave your home; that was fifty years ago. Father and you graciously opened your doors to me. It was a blessed beginning for Carl and me. For my first confinement Father took me to hospital. I was not the only bride you welcomed. There were other brides who had the good fortune to come under your influence. I remember the caring way you and Tiny made Ranjini's bridal attire.

Canon Harold de Mel, whom we affectionately addressed as "Father", was the principal of the Teacher Training College at Penideniya. You were not a member of staff, but you knew all the students by name. Your eyes would spot any student who dared to walk in the hot sun without an umbrella. You were ready with your medicinal mixture for any needy student, members of staff and their families, minor staff and their families. One day Victor gave an excuse for Girly's absence at some gathering. He told you that she was having a headache. And wasn't Girly surprised to see you at her doorstep with a bottle of the mixture?

As I held your hand my mind raced back to the Valedictory Services at Penideniya, in that beautiful House of God, where your fingers moved over the keyboard of the pedal organ. You will be sad to hear that that beautiful House of God has lost the lovely flat tiles it had, and that it no longer holds Valedictory Services.

You and Father were our honoured guests when our two boys took their marriage vows. Carl called you the 'salt of the earth'. Fond memories I have of you. It was a privilege and an honour to know you. With the psalmist I say 'Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in Thy Holy Hill?'

Sujatha Samarajiwa

Back to Top

Back to Plus