Appreciations
View(s):Sithie Tiruchelvam
A dynamo of love, ideas and friendship
Sithie Tiruchelvam and I have had a friendship of twenty five years. She had that ease of casualness, which made one feel comfortable instantly. Soon we were part of each other’s families leading me to ask her to be my witness when I got married. Sithie was devil and saint in one package, often provoking loud and passionate discussion on a number of topics be it politics, culture or arts. She was a gatherer of people and you would often find yourself, seated on the reed mat in her library, surrounded by interesting people, talking, eating, debating late into the night. She could be depended on to tease you just as enthusiastically as she would defend you. She was the rock, we took for granted and now she is gone.
I first met Sithie in 1989, when I was working at ICES on a women and religion project. Perhaps the fact that the ICES was located downstairs and Tiruchelvam Associates was upstairs of the same old house down Kynsey Terrace, allowed me frequent visits to have a quick chat or a cup of tea with her and make it part of my daily routine.
Sithie had boundless love; she was mentor, critic, surrogate mother, friend and support not just to me but to a whole host of others. She had the gift of introducing people to one another, she was generous with her friends and friendship and it became routine to meet remarkable people and have great conversation at her Sunday hopper breakfasts, evening chats in her beautiful garden that she was very proud of, or be invited to dinner, where we argued late into the night on politics and policy. She was a fountain of ideas often ringing me up quite spontaneously to suggest something I should do or should not do and just as abruptly hanging up when I was in mid-sentence.
She was a friend who stood by you in a crisis. When I had cancer I would often want to talk to her, as she had that touch of making everything feel right, even when she was scolding me, which was often.
When she had her annus horribilus in 2013 and seemed to be having operations left right and centre I would go and sit with her in hospital, expecting a quiet four hours, but there she would be, sitting upright in bed, bright smile on her face and we would chatter and have a good laugh. I would always leave, cheered up and smiling – Sithie had that effect on me.
In March 2014, Sam and I spent a Sunday morning with Sithie. She was her usual fountain of ideas. She had two new projects she was toying with. A Sri Lankan restaurant in her garden or an old people’s home. It was true to form that Sam supported the food idea and I agitated for the old people’s home. For that hour, we designed the home, set it up, got it running and even chose the residents. We thought we were planning the next stage of her life and by association ours as well. How wrong we were. That was the last time, I saw her alive. By Tuesday morning, it had all happened. Tragedy never gives you warning, suddenly it is there and life is never the same again even in the smallest things.
Sithie had an amazing zest for life, for people, for everything. If I close my eyes, I see Sithie, a mischievous glint in her eyes, a wide smile on her face, she is holding up a glass, she is sending me a message of love.
I end with the late great Maya Angelou’s words on death:
When I think of death, and of late the idea has come with alarming frequency, I seem at peace with the idea that a day will dawn when I will no longer be among those living in this valley of strange humors.
I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else.
I find it impossible to let a friend or relative go into that country of no return.
Disbelief becomes my close companion, and anger follows in its wake.
I answer the heroic question “Death, where is thy sting?” with “it is here in my heart and mind and memories.”
I will always miss her.
-Ameena Hussein
Hema Jayasinghe
Vibrant past Principal of Visakha Vidyalaya
Dedicated, elegant, charming…. words pour in as tribute to Mrs. Hema Jayasinghe, Principal of Visakha Vidyalaya from 1967 to 1983, and as I hear and read these words, and agree with all of them I try to think what word I would use to try to capture my image of her, and end up with the word vibrant.
It is this vibrancy that makes old girls write on facebook of the loss they feel now, despite the fact that they have left Visakha more than three decades ago; it is this that makes them talk and write of the impact she had on their lives. Mrs. Jayasinghe as Principal set the tone for the school: duty, humanness and fairness; and the teachers of that day backed her up so that as students we observed and learned how important it was to be responsible, to be conscientious and dedicated and to be thoughtful in our interactions with others.As one old girl put it, what we learned at school ensured that we can get along and work with anyone. It has certainly left us with a legacy of happy memories and close knit ties of friendship.
Trusted to the hilt by parents, students and old girls alike, Mrs. Hema Jayasinghe’s role in the development of Visakha Vidyalaya is unique. That the school flourished in her period of office, that many of her students have gone on in the world to gain great honours and attribute their achievements to their alma mater, that all old girls talk of the role the school has played in moulding their characters, these all bear ample testimony to Mrs. Jayasinghe’s great contribution to Visakha Vidyalaya.
To me, her trust in her students was what made her unique. She would look quizzically while we stumbled over our words trying to enthuse her with our plans to start a chess club, build toilets for slum dwellers or run a mini fair to collect money for the Jeremias Dias Hall. Then came some acute questioning, and if we survived that ordeal, the granting of permission but with it came the insightful advice on the need to work alongside dedicated teachers like Mrs. Rukmini Raddalgoda, Mrs. Renica Jayasekera and Mrs. Sita Siriwardena. Mrs. Jayasinghe never questioned the workings of the various projects, nor sought to control the activities; but we found many reasons to go knocking on her door, wanting her blessings as we progressed. She had a lively sense of humour, and the quizzical look in her eyes as we marched into her office with a plate of goodies turned to a twinkle as we brightly informed her that “the Royalists have come for a friendly match”: both actions now seem audacious. And yet, her enthusiasm for our activities, made us want to share our successes and progress with her; and when we had any problems then she was always ready to listen and encourage us on. These projects and activities served to instil a sense of responsibility and confidence, to create long lasting bonds among students, through encouraging team work, all that now forms the core as we say “we are what we are due to Mrs. Jayasinghe and our school days”.
Duty always came foremost with her, but not rigid duty painfully carried out and shouted aloud about, but lived in daily life, making this a warm virtue, where being responsible and caring was considered to be the right thing: success was praised but failing to win was never condemned; and the line on discipline was drawn so as to differentiate ‘bad’ from mischief. In a newspaper interview after her retirement Mrs. Jayasinghe is surprised that her students were frightened of her: yes we were, enough to run at the sight of her approach (once dashing in en masse into the library of all places to get severely reprimanded for that crime), but it was more awe I think, and the fear of trying to answer that difficult question “So where are you going now?” the emphasis on now clearly showing that she knew of our constant legal and illegal wanderings around the school in our A/L years.
Mrs. Jayasinghe’s wisdom, her dedication and her charisma but most of all her empathy for the young I think makes us mourn so sadly today and makes us think of her years in the school as the Golden age of Visakha. She is unforgettable. And each time we remember her it is with gratitude.
-Prof. Amala de Silva
Dr. Mark Amerasinghe
For whom the bell tolls…
It is with sadness that I write in memory of a dear uncle–the “e-doc” who used to communicate via email, wherever I was–who was close to me and many others; someone who would be classed as a great teacher or in modern times- a true ‘motivator’ in both the younger and the older generations. He had the curious mind of a child as he often stressed on the transitions in life and having to accept any changes to adapt to the ever changing nature of the universe according to the teachings of the true Dhamma.
Dr. Mark Amerasinghe was truly a people’s doctor, a remarkable man with an understanding for all types of people, and who recognised that most illnesses were related to psychology and social issues. His holistic perspective stemmed from the fact that he was well read, and travelled, and very talented in whatever he mastered.
He spoke in metaphors, had great wit and there was always a philosophical meaning behind even the simplest of quotes or ideas he uttered.
I first met him in Colombo to seek help for a physical ailment, as I had heard that he was one of the best and most highly regarded orthopaedic surgeons in Sri Lanka who excelled in his work at the General Hospital Kandy and Peradeniya University and had a huge following in the campus. He and his wife Dr. Premini Amerasinghe, another eminent doctor, were regarded as the ‘fashionable’ couple in that era, who were always helping the community and all those around them and highly into the Arts scene
When I first met Dr. Mark, this was more than a patient-doctor consultation, and became the beginning of a philosophical journey, in which he tried to explain the difference between religiosity and religion, the insignificance of the life of man and yet without him/her there would be no universe, and that everything is inter-related and “the importance of having a strong sense of belonging to a vast neural network” and still remaining “detached”. He quoted Donne’s renowned words, ‘No man is a island’
‘No Man is an Island’
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the conti nent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as any manner of thy friends
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
-John Donne
He believed that man is connected like nerve cells at a synapse to form one vast organised syncytium, which gives me the comforting feeling that we are all part of a universe, but also can be an individual within a whole system. He was a true proponent of eastern philosophies, a true nationalist (having grown up in the British colonial era) and always brimming with energy and ideas like that of a curious child.
I often think about one of his favourite novels, ‘The Little Prince’ where the lost prince travels and experiences many adventures thus promoting the idea of spiritual growth, through a newfound understanding of the world and subtle exploration of the human mind and feelings. His key passion in life was the first unit that we all experience in life -the family. His pure happiness and pride despite all his career successes was in his family. He often spoke about his childhood anxieties and achievements later on in life, and the values that were inculcated, and he was generous enough to include all around him to share the ups and downs of his own experiences, whilst egging us on to be positive in whatever we dwell in and experience in life and accepting the ever-changing nature of life.
I will always remember Uncle Mark and think of Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘If’ because in the ever-changing nature of this universe, he always stressed on accepting things as they are, but whilst living by certain principles which must not change and this is what he stood for; he was a true gentleman with good values, who promoted kindness and understanding and who intervened to assist others-and overall involved in mankind, as in the above poem.
Dear Uncle Mark, may you attain Nibbana. We will all greatly miss you.
-Your friend,
Chumani Monerawela
Leela Jeyaraj
A kindergarten ‘great’ at LC
Leela Jeyaraj belonged to a family of teachers. Her aunt, Ebernizie Doss was Principal of Mowbray, Kandy, a CMS school like Ladies’ College where Leela taught for over 50 years. Both her sisters, Kamala and Mabel, were teachers too, Mabel at Ladies’ College until she left to be married, and Kamala at Mowbray College, from where she retired as Principal. For Leela, it perhaps was a natural progression from student to teacher at her old school.
Leela was what we would expect a typical teacher of young children to be. We remember her, calm and collected, soft-spoken, neatly attired as she went about her work without fuss and bother. The confidence that the children in her class had in her never wavered. She was in school early, well before the first child arrived, her classroom prepared for the day’s activities. There, she would welcome each child and attend to them throughout the day. When school was over, she would be the last to leave, having handed the children over to their parents and guardians. I don’t believe that in all her years at Ladies’ College she was either late or absent.
For Leela, there was steady progress as a teacher, growing in stature and confidence from perhaps assistant teacher, to Kindergarten Head, a position she held with dignity and humility. From helping to carry out others’ ideas, Leela went on to planning and crafting her own. As was the practice at Ladies’ College, new and innovative practices in early childhood education were examined and carried out. Leela was ever ready to understand and try out these ideas, noting very carefully, their impact on the children.
Away from the classroom, she was ever ready to join any staff excursion. We remember trips to Hikkaduwa, sailing around in a glass- bottomed boat. Further afield, there were trips to Yapahuwa, where we climbed, clambering over rocks, dragging ourselves up the final stretch to the top, only to have our clothes blown about in the wind. Leela was left clutching her saree to keep it place. There were also trips to Wilpattu and Yala. Here, we let our collective imaginations run riot. Every distant tar-barrel was a bear, and on the moonlit nights, we thought we saw zebras -mind you, all this from a bus: those were not the days of SUVs and 4x4s. Once, we celebrated Leela’s birthday in Yala. She produced a cake which had been brought by her and carefully protected for days from marauding jungle ants
Staff Christmas parties saw us all letting down our hair and joining in some vigorous games like broom hockey, dignity thrown to the winds. Leela was an enthusiastic participant.
During her time at Ladies’ College, Leela would have studied, trained and worked under Principals Miss Gwen Opie, Miss Mabel Simon, Miss Olive Hitchcock and Mrs. Sirancee Gunawardana, a rare feat in itself and perhaps never to be repeated.
Her connections to those children she taught were strong. She followed their journeys and achievements through the school and beyond, with enthusiasm. Whenever possible, she kept in touch with them. She was a valued teacher and much loved by pupils and colleagues.
Leela retired to Kandy to be with her sister and family. There were visits to Colombo, timed to coincide with, usually, some KG event. We would then meet and exchange news. Later, this journey was not physically possible. Those of us who could, visited her and enjoyed her company in the serene surroundings of Katugastota. But the phone was a great asset. She would regularly call us and keep in touch with all our activities, especially those to do with her beloved Ladies’ College. We had to describe all events in great detail and answer all her questions, even what the platform looked like on Prize Day.
Leela now joins the Kindergarten greats of yesteryear – persons who have striven and given so much to make Ladies’ College what it is today. She would have known most of them and perhaps worked with some of them – Stella Parker, the Misses Raffel, Louise and Netta, Doreen de Kretser, Gladys Perera, Girlie Rodrigo and Wimala Nanayakkara.
We thank God for her love and concern for us, the school she served with steadfastness, and her belief and love for God to whom she subjected herself. We remember her in the words of our school hymn.
‘They reap not where they laboured
We reap what they have sown,
Our harvest may be garnered
By ages yet unknown.’
We thank God for allowing us the privilege of knowing Leela.
May God rest her soul.
-An old friend and colleague
Dr. Mrs. Thelma Gunawardena
Universally admired and respected
It is not possible to pay tribute to Dr. Thelma Gunawardena without feeling a pang of deep sorrow at her sudden, untimely death. Had she lived for a few days longer she would have been 81 years old, but age is the last thing one would have associated with her. Deeply learned, with a Doctorate in Entomology, she was possessed of an astonishing variety of knowledge and skills, all of which she regularly put to use to instruct and benefit others. Indeed it was her wonderful personality, full of good humour and kindness, combined with an innate modesty, that made her the universally admired and respected person that she was.
Dr. Thelma had her primary and secondary education at Visakha Vidyalaya, followed by two years at Holy Family Convent. Entering the Colombo University, in harmony with her love of nature she graduated with an Upper Second in Zoology Honours, with Entomology as a special section. She married in 1961 and the couple had four sons, making her the queen of a very happy family.
A few months later the Public Services Commission appointed Dr. Thelma as Assistant Director in Systematic Entomology in the Department of National Museums. Thus began her career and life’s work of important national service, which she carried out with great enthusiasm and skill.
A Commonwealth Scholarship in 1965 took Dr. Thelma to London for research studies at the Imperial College of Science and Technology of the London University. She returned to Sri Lanka to the National Museum in three years with a Diploma of the Imperial College and a PhD of the London University.
Skill and hard work took her to the peak of her career in 1982 when she became the first woman to be made Director of the Department of National Museums, greatly increasing her responsibilities and work load. Her wide range of skills included the embalming of Rajah, the famous Kandy Pereahera elephant, now to be seen at the Dalada Maligawa. Completing a memorable 33 years, she retired from the Museum in 1994 on reaching 60 years.
Not one to stay idle, Dr. Thelma turned her talents and energy to social service. In 1996 she joined the National Movement of the Lanka Mahila Samiti to our great good fortune and hers. Elected to the Executive Committee, she took part in all aspects of our work with enthusiasm. She was invaluable in meeting Government officials to sort out problems when they arose.
A major part of Dr. Thelma’s contribution, and one she liked most, was her role as an Honorary Organiser. Our Organisers go out in pairs and look after samiti in districts assigned to them, not excepting other districts in time of need. Dr. Thelma and her partner were assigned the districts of Kegalle, Matale and Gampaha. She liked nothing better than meeting samiti members, improving their cookery and gardening and teaching them to make small but saleable handicrafts, for which she took the necessary materials.
Dr. Thelma was Chief organiser of our Head Office for several years, ensuring that everything was in order. She was in charge of the Iriyagama Centre in Kandy for a considerable time. Problems were her forte. When the Tsunami disaster devastated a village near Ambalangoda, she helped the Lanka Mahila Samiti to obtain a block of land from the Government to build a nursery school to replace our nursery school at Telwatte that had got washed away.
Dr. Thelma was Chairperson of the Kaduwela Training Centre for two years and when the Centre was moved to Malabe she continued in that role. It was here that she used her own funds without limit, to build a large and beautiful shrine room, with a four foot high seated Buddha statue, an enduring memorial to her faith and generosity.
Dr. Thelma had a very positive sense of humour which was evident at get-togethers and outings. She was in her element when entertaining members by cracking jokes and singing. No one who had the good fortune to be present will ever forget the dramas she performed wearing costumes of her choice, which kept her audience in fits of laughter.
All who knew Dr. Thelma have lost someone very good and very precious. May she attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana in the shortest possible time.
-Anoja Fernando
Honorary Life President, Lanka Mahila Samiti