My best friend, my parallel traveller Andrea Baines Today is one year since my baby sister died.She was not a baby when she died, she was a 25-year-old young woman, who had just begun to spread her wings. Anyone who has experienced unexpected loss, will understand our agony of waking up every morning to the [...]

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My best friend, my parallel traveller

Andrea Baines

Today is one year since my baby sister died.She was not a baby when she died, she was a 25-year-old young woman, who had just begun to spread her wings. Anyone who has experienced unexpected loss, will understand our agony of waking up every morning to the reality that the person without whom you couldn’t imagine life, is actually gone.It is easy to despair at moments like this, knowing that your sister, who was supposed to be your parallel traveller in life has departed suddenly, with no warning whatsoever.

When Andrea passed away I was miles away from everything and everyone close to me. Just a few minutes before the call from my parents I was trying to get through to Andrea to settle down to our regular Saturday evening chat when she would give me updates on her work, studies, and the well-being of our parents. Since we were two months away from my wedding, we had been in touch almost daily, as she, in her capacity as bridesmaid was attending to more than her share of the preparations. This is what I miss the most now. The ability to sit down with her, just updating each other about the latest developments in life.

I proudly reflect sometimes on how we, two sisters, influenced each other in venturing into academic and professional territories that very few expected us to. Nangi graduated from the Univer-sity of Moratuwa with a Diploma in Textile Engineering and had completed one year at MAS Holdings as an Executive Merchandiser. But what I valued the most in her was her ability to resist the profit-oriented ambition and boastful upward mobility common in the corporate sector, and to retain her sense of humility and human empathy. I realized later, that unbeknown to me, she was reading book after book from my collection;once going so far as to sneak a copy of Shyam Selvadurai’s Funny Boy to one of her friends who argued with her about the right to love, regardless of sexual orientation. This same friend told me after her passing that she compelled her friends to constantly give the benefit of the doubt to human and cultural experiences that might seem “different” from our own. I was not surprised to hear this. Her maturity and sense of judgement often made me reflect on the ideas and experience she had to offer in her short life with immense sisterly pride.

My earliest memory of nangi is the day she was born, standing in-between my aunt and my cousin peering at her fresh pinkness with mild interest, neither excited nor disappointed. Little did I know that her presence was going to shape my personality, my routines, my habits by simply requiring me to be akki: it still feels strange to no longer hear this appellation from her. I keep replaying memories of a 4-year-old Andrea, in a Velona nighty, arms swinging, marching into our parents’ room to be dressed by my father for nursery school, and then excitedly trotting down our grandparents’ garden to get into “akki’s school van”, as my grandparents watched proudly.Each time I walk home through our childhood garden I see the countless hours spent at fantasy play in stories composed and enacted with Yasassri, our mutual best friend.

In our adult years,taking after our mother, nangi and I shared a love for food, being adventurous in the kitchen which produced her signature apple crumble and rhubarb cake. As I leaf through my grandmother’s handwritten recipe book I realize now that I have one more legacy to add to the family recipes, that of a palate that experienced life for only 25 years.

As I reflect on these memories I cannot help but think that it is now my duty to make sure that she lives on, not only in those who knew and loved her, but also in posterity those who would never meet her in person. One of Andrea’s friends talks to me sometimes, simply to listen to my voice, saying she finds comfort in its similarity in tone and cadence to hers. I realize that I must carry her voice, her legacy within me, so that people would remember the bubbly, cheerful, and gentle strength of the younger sister, as they look at the more serious elder sister.

When I first left our home in Kandy for work in Colombo, Andrea simply said to me,“Akki I miss you”. To you Andrea, all I can say today are the same words: “Nangi I miss you”. As painful as it is to not have your physical presence through the rest of my life, I want this pain to stay with me, for it is a reminder that I love you, and love you I will until my own last breath.

I dedicate this appreciation to your friends, Gajana, Nuzha, Madushan, and Manjula, who with you, have left an irreplaceable void in us all.

Crystal Baines


There will be a void in our hearts for the rest of our lives

 DR IYESHA H. MAHAROOF (nee JABIR)

My dear sister Iyesha left us for a better place on  January 28.  This also happens to be the 22nd day of the Islamic month of Rabi-ul Awwal, the same date our father late M.L.M. Jabir was laid to rest in 2006.  Iyesha admitted herself to hospital for a minor surgical procedure which in her own words “was nothing serious and I’ll be back the next day”.  However, God seems to have had other plans for her.  She contracted an infection that was too strong for her already weak system and in three weeks, breathed her last.

Her husband Niaz lost his beloved wife and her daughter Nusrath and son Awad lost their mother in a blur of activity before they could even come to terms with Iyesha’s condition, because she deteriorated so fast.  All of us, her mother, brothers and sister and her own family prayed and wished fervently for her recovery to no avail.  She was 61.

Iyesha was the third in our family of six children and the second of two sisters.  Ours was a closely knit family that laughed, joked, jabbed each other but stuck together through thick and thin.  Iyesha was undoubtedly the prettiest of us all, and probably the smartest.  She excelled in the grade 8 scholarship exam at Zahira College Gampola and entered Devi Balika Vidyalaya Colombo where she continued her middle grades. Thereafter she came back to Zahira College where she continued to blaze her trail leaving the school as the Head Girl.  My brother the late Ikram Jabir was the Head Boy the same year, thus leaving an unparalleled record of two siblings of the same family holding both the top student positions at Zahira College in the same year.

After her A’ levels, Iyesha answered the calling of the motherland at a time when the country was suffering from a dearth of doctors and qualified as an Assistant Medical Practitioner with the first batch of AMPs in 1982, which sealed her career of over 35 years serving the poor and needy of this country. She easily passed her higher exams and became a Registered Medical Officer and fought hard to obtain her MBBS, which was prevented by professional chauvinism.

Iyesha served for 23 years at District Hospital Gampola and for 12 at General Hospital Kandy.  Known by all as a kind, sweet, empathetic doctor, she won the hearts of people first and then healed them with her cool, practical diagnosis and medication.

Doctor Iyesha, as she was fondly known to thousands of grateful patients in and around Kandy and Gampola, was a selfless servant of the people. She started a private practice but failed because she couldn’t find the courage to ask people to pay for her services.  Despite her busy work schedule including night shifts, she managed her domestic affairs admirably supporting her husband Niaz and bringing up her children despite many other difficulties.  She would be proud of her daughter Nusrath and son Awad who have excelled in their education and carved their personal niches in their
chosen professions.  Her smiling, bubbly personality is going to be missed at all our family functions in the future and we will all be left with an indelible void in our hearts for the rest of our lives.

May Almighty Allah shower her with his choicest blessings and grant her the eternal bliss of heaven: jennathul firdhouse, Insha Allah.

M. Ayub Jabir


A charming personality he made friends easily and kept them

 Huzair A.Cader

Huzair A. Cader, son of the late N.H.M. Abdul Cader, State Councillor  and Ummu Hafeera Cader, passed away after a brief illness, in the UK, on March 23.  He was 82.  Huzair had his  education at S. Thomas College, Gurutalawa,and  later at  S. Thomas, Mount Lavinia. At Gurutalawa he came under the influence of the legendary Dr. R.L. Hayman and Rev. Foster.  A diligent student, he became the Head Prefect of the school.

The elder of twins, even Headmaster Hayman could not distinguish them and resorted to summoning them by their surname and then enquiring which of the brothers it was!

It was in sports that Huzair excelled. He represented S. Thomas Gurutalawa in cricket, soccer and hockey.  It was in hockey that he shone, a strong left hander, representing the Moors Sports Club in the domestic tournament on leaving school.  At Mount Lavinia,Huzair represented the college in rugger, football and hockey, even when fasting during Ramazan.

One of his first jobs was at  the well known Department store, of that time,  Millers. Ltd.,  There an “incident” that was a measure of his true nature.  When pay day came, a colleague lamented the inability to make ends meet with his meagre salary and Huzair promptly offered to give him his own whole salary!  Similar gestures were to occur in later life.

After a short stint at Millers, Huzair took up an appointment as Private Secretary to his brother-in-law the late M.M. Maharoof when he was Sri Lanka’s High Commissioner in Pakistan. He later functioned in the same capacity when Maharoof was appointed Ambassador to Indonesia. While in Jakarta, Huzair had the opportunity to visit the historical sites  for which that country is famous.  It kindled in him a curiosity in such places, which he made it a point to visit in in the Middle East in later life.

On returning from Jakarta, the family business beckoned and he got involved in the management of the New Olympia cinema.  But he soon tired of this and sought fresh  pastures  in the UK where two of his brothers were resident.  Huzair followed a course in Chemical Engineering and found employment in a professional firm.  He was a diligent worker and popular employee. When the time came to retire, a company which had a contract with his employer, refused to renew the contract unless “Mr.Cader”  was responsible for the account! Huzair had his term of employment extended.

He married Shafie Bibi from Guyana and they were a devoted couple  for more than 40 years.  They have two children, Hafeera and Affif, both brought up in the best traditions.

Huzair had great charm. He made friends easily and kept them. He was very generous with his time and money in making others happy. In hindsight, it was his ability not to permit third party prejudices  to colour his friendships that made him mix easily with very disparate individuals. On a visit to the UK last year,before he fell ill,  I happened to take a walk with him in Woolwich , where he lived for more than 40 years. It was truly amazing to note the spontaneous reactions of friendship from  his neighbours.

His siblings and  many nephews and nieces, spread all over the globe, found in Huzair a convenient point man in London. A good cook, he would take great delight  in preparing a special meal. If a relation was going to London,a visit to his home was a must.

Huzair and his surviving brothers, Zackrof, Huzam (twin) and Ifhikar, were orphaned when they were very young. This served to make them bond as a very close quartet.  He bore his illness stoically.  To his wife Shafie, children, Hafeera and Affif, and son-in-law Pawell, his passing away is  an irreparable loss.

May the Almighty grant him Jennathul Firdous.

A cousin


 

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