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Appreciations


He taught us to live life to the fullest
"And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance…"

As a son he was cherished. As a brother he was adored. As an uncle he was the best you could ever have and as a friend he was truly loved. As a family we were honoured and blessed to have him in our lives.

I am not sure what it is about death that makes it so difficult for us to bear. We know that each of us will have to face it one day. But there are certain people whom you wish could be with you forever. Uncle Hareen was one of them. You couldn't have asked for a more caring, generous and vivacious person. It seemed as if the sun always revolved around him. He had a magnetism and charm that immediately made you feel at ease. No matter who you were, or what walk of life you came from, you would at some point get a dose of his charm.

But as anyone who knew him could tell you he wasn't the model citizen by any normal standards. He pushed life. He lived it on the tightrope that none of us had the courage to walk. I think that is what made him such an enigma. Here was a person - just like you and me - who dared to live life by his own standards. He did not live it by what he 'should' do, he lived it by what he 'could' do.

Most of us fashion our thoughts, behaviour and ultimately our life path by society's rules and opinions. But not our Uncle Hareen! Maybe that is what drew him to us. He touched a part of us that induced excitement and courage - the childlike quality in everyone of us that tells us "Yes! I can do that!". If there was a car that needed to be driven any faster, a more outlandish joke that could be made, if you did something that was embarrassing and didn't want anyone to know or if you just needed a crooked smile, a hearty laugh and a big bear hug, you knew who would be there to give it.

Needless to say, we are all going to miss him. Terribly. More so because we feel that he took with him the part of us that we felt was too vulnerable to show anyone else. But I think he would have liked to have thought that instead of taking it away, he awakened it. So today keep his spirit alive by keeping that part of yourself open and promising yourself to remember to live life to the fullest. Then take a moment, pop a beer or pour yourself a good shot (on the rocks!) and say, "Here's to you buddy. We'll miss you."

"When you part from your friend, you grieve not; for that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain."
- Niroshini Amerasekera

No peace in appeasing despots
In a laboured and far-fetched pun, Mr. Johnny Schucroft (if that's his name) advised me last week to scream in HooKay and, in the same breath, accused me of bad taste. With his limited talents, the poor fellow had done his best to play a tit-for-tat word game. But to be effective, he must learn to draw his shots directly from the text. Example: Who is wagging from behind Mr. S's little Johnny to act in bad taste? See? It is not contrived. It flows directly and easily from his fictitious name.

Dismissing that aside, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. Mr. S. avoids facing the key issues and clings to Clause 1(2) a. That Clause was raised to point out that Ranil's strategy, as signposted in the MoU, is not going to save the nation. He has given a whole whale and got in return a sprat. And after 90 days of the ceasefire the guerrilla despot (Ashley Wills in TIME) keeps on demanding more and more, with no end in sight.

Mr. S's argument is that everything has been tried and because nothing has succeeded the only alternative is to give in like the surrender of the TNA to Prabhakaran's gun. This reflects the myopic thinking of the UNF and PA leaders. Ranil is out to please the guerrilla despot; because he, like Chandrika, has come to the conclusion that the only way to peace is to appease. The peace Thavalama begun by Chandrika has been taken over by Ranil and he is running away with it at break-neck speed to achieve what? Peace? Neither of them has stopped to ask whether any party that appeased a despot ever won peace. Ranil, who has a fondness for reading biographies of prominent leaders (including, perhaps, Hitler and Neville Chamberlain) should know that it has never worked. Ranil can buy time but can he buy peace?

And yet Ranil has chosen to go down this defeatist track at a time when the guerrilla despot is at his weakest ever. The international blast, coming especially from September 11, has clipped his wings. His deadliest weapon of suicide-bombers, targeting non-combatant civilians, is now classified as a crime against humanity. He is wanted by the Interpol and India. He is banned by democratic countries. His cadres are depleted. He is forced to abduct schoolchildren. The LRRP, according to the London Economist, was getting too close to his liking. Bombs planted by disillusioned Tamils are exploding outside his doorstep. He has no chance of regaining Jaffna by force. Or retaining Jaffna in case he regains it by force.

The United States has joined India in saying no to Eelam. The Tamils, weary of an exhausting war, are seeking safer havens away from the guerrilla despot. But the UNF and PA leaders are vying with each other not only to hand over Jaffna but two thirds of the coastline and its hinterland with the able aid of the NGOs, the Christian churches and the so-called intellectuals dependent on NGO handouts.

Let me conclude by saying that all this has nothing to do with my personal relations with the Wickremesinghe family. I have the highest regard for them. I have the highest respect for the Wijewardenes. Jointly, they spearheaded the massive battle against the state invasion of the free media. They have inspired and led the Sinhala Institute of Culture. They are the committed dayakayas of Buddhist temples. At Lake House Bookshop Mrs. Nalini Wickremesinghe has been the guardian angel of the creative talent of the nation.

They have been the power behind the throne that built this nation on a multicultural foundation. In the past, they have stood for the inalienable right of all citizens to share this land as the common property of our people - all our people. They never believed that political salvation will dawn with the carving of ethnic enclaves to satisfy the arrogant claims of unsubstantiated history and unadulterated racism of only one community. As members of the majority community they stood for the just and reasonable right of all minorities. They rejected extremism of the left, right, centre-left and racists of the north and the south.

It is also heartening to note Ranil's frequent references to the kings of the Sinhala kingdoms. It could be read as a commitment to honour, to fortify and to uphold the historical tradition that resisted despots and invaders who threatened the time-tested core values and the sharing of a common space that stretched from coast to coast. There is a heavy responsibility in a commitment to such a lofty ideal. Eventually, he will be tested on how well he fulfils this commitment.

My criticism, therefore, was not to deny the achievements of the Wickremesinghe family. My criticism was to urge Ranil to free this land from racist despotism and to preserve (despite its corrigible faults) the respected traditions of multicultural liberalism nurtured under the sovereign umbrella of Sinhala-Buddhist culture. The Wickreme-singhes have a place in history and that should not be undermined by misguided politics which may serve the needs of today but not their generations to come.
H. L. D. Mahindapala
Australia

Negombo's forgotten genius
N. S. Godamanna
The death anniversary of N. S. Godamanna, artist, sculptor and photographer, fell on April 21.

After retirement, Mr. Godamanna led a low key life till Rupavahini highlighted him in a programme called "Little Michelangelo of Little Rome", featuring some of his paintings and sculpture.

When Mr. Godamanna got the contract to paint St. Mary's Church, Negombo, he engaged two equally famous assistants, artists Donald Ramanayake and Henry Dharmasena.

However, his genius was not confined to murals, which any artist could do on 'terra firma'. Lying on his back for hours drawing gigantic pictures in the correct proportion up on a high ceiling is a feat of endurance worthy of mention.

Recently, sections of the paintings have been washed off due to a leak in the roof. Though the roof has been repaired, the incumbent parish priest has not yet been able to find a painter to retouch the damaged portions - the job being so risky. This shows that Mr. Godamanna had risked life and limb to give the parishioners a unique mural not found in any other church in Sri Lanka.

The parishioners persuaded the Negombo Municipal Council to pass a resolution to name the new road behind Mr. Godamanna's house "N. S. Godamanna Mawatha". However, it is regrettable that the municipality has not put up the name board yet.

May justice be done in honour of a man who served quietly.
Art Lover

A man of reason
Merwyn De AlwisOne of the people I most admired was Oswald Merwyn De Alwis, or "Uncle Merwyn".

On the Poya Day in April, when he visited our home to meet my father whom he had known very closely for 54 years, he sought my advice on a banking matter and I am so pleased I was able to give him the counsel he needed. As usual he had a long chat with my father, and I heard from time to time, bursts of laughter from the drawing room. Little did I realize that it was the last time I would have the privilege of meeting this jovial, sincere and knowledgeable gentleman.

Just nine days after this visit, the phone rang and it was Uncle Merwyn's second daughter, Neelanthi, who had flown in from Canada after seven years to see her parents just the previous night. She gave us the bad news that her father had succumbed to a massive heart attack and passed away just four hours before her arrival in the country.

About two out of three times when I answered my father's telephone, it would be the familiar voice that I heard on the other end: "This is Uncle Merwyn. Is your father at home?" The two used to talk for more than an hour at times on various topics, a minimum of five times a week, and it was not unusual to hear that there had been four telephone calls from him in a single day, especially when an interesting cricket match was in progress.

Having held the post of Legal Draftsman, he was an authority on any legal matter or current topic of the day. When the newspapers published, say the full text of the Budget Speech, or the Draft Constitution, he would read the contents and discuss with my father its salient features.

A little known fact was that he was an authority on the latest developments in the field of medicine. For any ailment, he could say what the treatment should be and it always proved correct, when subsequently a medical practitioner was consulted. When he or his ever-loving wife Manel, felt the slightest discomfort, they consulted a medical specialist, and he regularly had routine medical checks, which did not reveal any cause for alarm.

Having been the only child of well-to-do parents he was used to a comfortable way of life, but never wanted to be extravagant.

He had an excellent sense of humour, seldom seen among those in the legal profession, (as he was) and among bankers (as myself). When I think of him, several humorous anecdotes he has related over the years come to mind.

After his retirement, he had a spell in Bangladesh, where he helped the young nation in drafting their laws.

His friends used to count on him if they were to purchase a new car or equipment, because he would go into every detail before making a purchase.

He always took a balanced view of any current issue, regardless of which political party was in power.

Uncle Merwyn's elder daughter Dileeni had chosen France as her second home, and she owes her present profession to her father, who taught her French at an early age, and so too his only grandchild who is an undergraduate in a Canadian university.

The unforgettable Mr. Merwyn De Alwis is no more. He lived a successful life of 79 years, but memories of him will remain with us for the rest of our lives.
Deepal Peiris


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