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Appreciations


She went forth for the good of many
Pushpa Hewavitharane
It has been over a year since the demise of my good friend Pushpa Hewavitarane.

A few days ago, she appeared in a dream and said, "Nimal, let us go on a pilgrimage. I replied that I was a busy housewife. She drove away. A short while later, she appeared again and said: "Let us go home for a chat."

This strange dream inspired me to write this long overdue appreciation.

When Pushpa returned from England, clad in a white saree, with shaven head, bearing her husband's ashes after his unsuccessful operation, I thought she would be a permanent sil matha. She mourned for a while, but her vibrant spirit knew no bounds.

My watchword is service, she said, and quoted the Buddha... "Go Forth for the good and welfare of many." She certainly did that.

Pushpa and I were long standing friends. Our friendship spanned more than 50 years, when she formed the Daya Hewavitarane Dharma-duta Sabha. She left no stone unturned to make it a flourishing institution.

The Sabha's maiden enterprise was 'Sarana' a home for homeless mothers and infants.

To do work in the outstations, she imported a fully equipped caravan. Often a bhikku would accompany us to deliver sermons to villagers in remote areas.

The restoration of the Yudhaganawa Dagoba, built to commemorate the battle between King Dutugemunu and his brother Tissa, was another project we enjoyed. Today, it stands in its original splendour, a shining tribute to Pushpa's untiring effort and generosity. A 50-acre farm in Wellawaya worked entirely by young girls blossomed into an exemplary means of livelihood for over 30 girls. Impressed by the Herculean task of the girls, UNESCO donated a Massey Ferguson tractor and a van.

A few years later, insurgents took possession of the complex. However, the Army came to our rescue and gave the intruders marching orders, and restored the farm to the Sabha.

As insurgent activity was rampant at that time, the Sabha gladly transferred the farm to the Army which is now well managed by them.

During the Sri Pada season, we climbed halfway up and brewed gallons of coffee to serve descending pilgrims.

When port workers went on hunger strikes, a regular feature then, we would collect hundreds of lunch-packets earlier dumped in the sea, and distribute them among the poor in the Wanathamulla and Narahenpita shanties. A unique pinkama organised by Pushpa was in Anuradhapura.

A hundred bhikkus seated round the Ruwanveli Seya, protected by a canopy overhead chanted pirith all night. A morning dana culminated in a pinkama reminiscent of the bygone magnanimity of the Sinhalese Kings. From Nagadipa to Dondra, there is no place we have not visited, to renovate ancient temples, establish Dhamma schools, and to see to the well-being of the poor.

When drafting her will, she allocated millions to various projects dear to her heart. Scholarships to deserving children, the Sangha, farming implements to needy farmers, regular donations to temples and to Ranaviru Sevena were just some of the projects.

I was the only signatory besides Pushpa and the lawyer, when she assigned to the Public Trustee her home at No. 17, Guildford Crescent. She named the home "Daham Lama" specifying in detail how it should be run as a home for dasasil mathas, under the supervision of six persons including myself.

Dear friend, may all your good deeds make your Sansaric journey a happy one until you repose in the Bliss of Nibbana.
- Nimaladevi Goonesekera

He kept vigil with me in London
Clem Perera
Clem Perera passed away on May 14, this year, after a sudden illness. I came to know Clem in 1984, when the Sinhala Forum was formed in London to counteract the false propaganda proliferated by the LTTE in Europe. Since those days, he had been an indefatigable promoter of an undivided Sri Lanka.

In 1987, we spent 24 hours together, outside the Indian Passport Office in the Strand in London. There were reports that India was making preparations to invade Sri Lanka and war supplies were being rushed to the southern Indian ports. On this basis, I got permission from the Superintendent of Bow Street police station to stage a one-man 24-hour vigil outside the Indian Passport Office. Later I persuaded the police officer to allow me to bring another person; and this was Clem Perera. From that day onwards, he was a moving force and enthusiastic protester against Indian plans on Sri Lanka.

I had prepared two handouts for distribution in an around the Strand. He got them printed and got a few youths to have them distributed. The one that pleased him most carried the message: "India is giving even hypocrisy a bad name."

On the selected day, July 13 (exactly a week before the IPKF entered our shores), we were at our protest station by 4 a.m. By 6 a.m. we had our posters displayed and 50 candles lit on the edge of the pavement. At 8 a.m., when the Indian High Commission opened, we had trouble.

The security men ordered us to get out, as it was a diplomatic premise. They did not accept that we had permission from the police. As the High Commission officials moved in to remove the posters, Clem shouted at them not to do so.

This commotion brought the police officers posted at the HC door to the place where we were. They firmly told the Indian officials that we had permission to stage our protest, and that we should be left alone.

Clem was in his element trying to strike a conversation with everyone who came to the Indian Passport Office. Many Sri Lankans gave us food and drink. In his inimitable humorous style, Clem urged those good people that they could continue their Samaritan work into the next day by sending food and drinks to his house, as he had a wife and kid to support.

By midnight all was quiet and no one was about, other than the police officers. It was then that Clem told me of his dream of returning to his beloved motherland to spend his last days there. His wish was granted.

By 1 a.m. he got into the backseat of my car for a snooze. I settled down with a book on the pavement with my candles and a gas lamp. Soon I had fallen asleep. It was Clem who woke me up at about 5 a.m. He teased me for falling asleep on the job! I retorted that he was no better, having a nice snooze, stretched out on the backseat of the car. With a twinkle in his eyes he said, "So that's what you think I was doing. I was up all night keeping watch over you."

That was Clem. Good-bye my friend.
Durand Appuhamy

She loved to help others
Merle Dayanthi Weerakoon
Merle, as relatives and friends knew her, passed away peacefully on June 3 during the wee hours of the morning and was cremated at the Nawala Cemetery.

She had her education at Bishops' College, along with her other two sisters the late Doreen Ramanayake and Annette Gomez. She was also the sister of Dr. A.M.S. Karunatilake, the former Governor of the Central Bank.

Her husband Gunasiri Weerakoon, former Commissioner of Labour and daughter Shamile Fernando and grand-daughter Tharini survive her.

She was a kind-hearted lady who loved to help others.

She was a benefactor to those who knew her, particularly her family.

Being supportive of others' education and employment was a great joy to this pious lady.

Above all, she was a devoted wife and beloved mother and grandmother. Even on the day of her death, she had lovingly put her grand-daughter to sleep.

May she attain the supreme bliss of Nirvana.
V.K.B. Ramanayake


A man of talent and style
Noel de Costa
A.M. Noel de Costa passed away on June 19 after a brief illness, at the age of 89.

I admired Uncle Noel very much. A product of St. Joseph's College, he was my father's contemporary and friend.

He was an outstanding cricketer, whose talents were passed on to his son Alan who carried on with equal distinction, much to Uncle Noel's delight.

A talented golf and tennis player, he was an ardent lover of wildlife and nature and a great supporter of the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society.

I recollect with deep sadness, some memories of Uncle Noel. I first came to know him years ago when I accompanied my father to his office.

Years later in the 1970s, he helped my sister and me to get our first jobs.

I was employed by the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society and my sister joined Uncle Noel's firm. By this, our association with his family gradually became very close.

I will never forget how this fatherly figure used to go out of his way to drop us at home after work on rainy days.

He was handsome and had style. In everything, he demonstrated his sense of style - be it speech, writing, deportment or dress. He was kind, gentle, quiet and soft-spoken. Yet he was authoritative and won the respect of all he came into contact with.

His endearing nature was complemented by the bubbly personality of his dear wife, Aunty Rowan. The understanding and support of his charming, devoted and unassuming wife contributed significantly towards the person he was.

She has lost a wonderful husband, his children, a loving and caring father.

To all other members of his family and to everyone of us who had the fortune of knowing him, his passing is a deep personal loss.

Uncle Noel was a voracious reader, who even at his age managed to go through the newspapers.

He had made arrangements for his funeral and even the obituary notice titled "The long day's task is done and we must sleep", and the family adhered to his final request.
Lilamani Amerasekera


The last melody
Melody. That's what you called me.
I remember, the days you sat beside me
as I played my big, black grand piano
I remember you watching my fingers waltzing
across the keys and watching my face,
and whispering words of love.

You loved the tunes I composed.
Music was in me and that's why
you called me, Melody.
But that's just a memory of the past.
The tunes once heard shall never be heard, again.
That's my promise to you.

But today, I play one last tune,
In memory of you, my love.
Today, you're not sitting next to me,
watching my face or my fingers running
across the piano, or whispering words of love to me.
But from heaven above you are
listening to me, I know.
So till we meet again,
This one is for you, my love.
Maya Dissanayake

A frank and simple man
Rohan Hapugalle
It's with a deep sense of sorrow that I write this appreciation for one of my favourite cousins, Rohan Hapugalle.

It was about two years ago that I heard that Rohan Aiya had a fall when he had gone to Argentina for a Rotarian Conference, representing Sri Lanka. Since then he had been unconscious till he passed away in January, this year.

He was attached to his relatives, whether they were affluent or not.

I remember how when I took up a teaching appointment in Male, I went to bid him goodbye. He was very happy and presented me with a leather wallet which had been given to him by one of his business partners, and told me that I could put all my travel documents in it.

It was very useful to me each time I went abroad. I treasure it to this day.

He used to invite me for Sunday lunches where Neelakanthi, his wife, used to lay out a big spread, after which I was dropped back home.

Another event was his annual almsgiving, where all the relatives and friends were invited.

The last almsgiving where I met him was about two years ago.

He was hale and hearty and told us that he, Neelakanthi and their three daughters continued these almsgivings without a break.

His frankness, simplicity, devotion to duty and honesty were outstanding.

The passing away of Rohan Aiya is a great loss not only to his devoted wife and daughters, but also to his associates.

May your journey through sansara be short and may you attain the supreme bliss of Nirvana.
Sushila Collure


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