Appreciations
View(s):Steadfast in her faith, generous in her loyalties, most excellent of friends
SHELAGH LOUISE GOONEWARDENE
Born on December 12, 1935 in Colombo, Shelagh Goonewardene was the younger daughter of Lt. Col. Dr T.R. Jansen, OBE, ED (one-time Commander of the Volunteer Corps), and Mrs Georgiana Jansen, both of whom are now deceased; and the elder sister of Dr. Roger Jansen, medical practitioner and surgeon of Adelaide, Australia.
Like her late elder sister Suzette, Shelagh was educated at Bishop’s College, Colombo, and benefited from the fine teaching staff at Bishop’s, in particular from her special mentors Pauline and Dick Hensman. Her love for the stage made itself evident from her earliest years at Bishop’s, where she appeared in innumerable playlets devised for class and school entertainment , besides acting the parts of Melisande in Apple Pie Order, Rosalind in As You Like It, and taking a starring role in Patricia Pantin Munro’s production of Alice in Wonderland.
While still at school, she appeared in 1953 on the Colombo stage in Chekhov’s play The Wedding (for the Little Theatre Group), and from there it was a short step to the ‘Dram Soc’ at the University of Ceylon in Peradeniya, where Professor Lyn Ludowyk was quick to observe her outstanding dramatic talent. At Peradeniya she revealed a nice talent for comedy in Anatole France’s The Man Who Married a Dumb Wife, and under the direction of Jubal and Ludowyk respectively, she later appeared in Shaw’s Major Barbara and Androcles and the Lion.
During the 1960s, Shelagh took a crucial role in the activities of Stage & Set, both as actor and as administrator. Her association with Stage & Set provided many occasions on which she demonstrated her developing versatility as an actor: notable among these was her performance as Desdemona to Chitrasena’s Othello, and another fine performance opposite Henry Jayasena in The Crucible. But it was her unforgettable performance as Linda Loman in Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman that has given Shelagh a permanent niche in Sri Lanka’s hall of theatrical fame. Directed by Ernest Macintyre, playing opposite Winston Serasinghe (who, as Willy Loman, gave what was possibly the finest performance of his own long and distinguished career), she reached her apotheosis as an actor, bringing tears even to the astonished eyes of friends and fellow-actors who might have imagined that they knew her capabilities well.
In her book This Total Art (1994) Shelagh has put on record her personal perceptions of her activities in the Sri Lankan world of arts, an invaluable gift for the instruction and education of future generations of actors, directors and others involved in the dramatic arts.
Looking back, I am astonished by the range of her interest in the arts, for, not confining itself to the English theatre, it overflowed into the area of Sinhala drama represented in the plays of Sarachchandra, and of classical dance as interpreted by Chitrasena and Vajira. Her love of the arts included an intelligent and sensitive understanding of the work of the painter George Keyt, then at the height of his powers, and it was only when she decided to emigrate with her family to Guyana and thence to Australia in the interests of her children’s education, that her active participation in Sri Lankan arts was forced to a close.
No account of Shelagh Goonewardene’s life would be complete that did not include some mention of her love for her children, her record of community service, and of the steadfast spiritual endeavour that illuminated her later years. She was immensely proud of her three children: the eldest, Antony Anghie, now Samuel D. Thurman Professor of Law at S.J. Quinney College of Law, University of Utah; the next, her son Devinda Goonewardene, whose sensitivity, perception and insight she fostered and encouraged (his splendid photographs of Melbourne’s natural beauty alternate with the poems in both volumes of Shelagh’s verse); and the third, her daughter (named Devika after my daughter), an academic who died tragically young, but not before she had given proof that she had inherited much of her mother’s academic abilities and her love of books and cinema. Shelagh instilled in her children something of her own feelings of compassion : they joined with her in concern for the provincial schools in Sri Lanka – I know of two such schools, but there may be more – to which she provided continuous personal financial and material assistance, accompanying her on visits to the students when she visited the island, and corresponding with them when they returned to Melbourne.
Trained in secretarial work, she voluntarily contributed her time and expertise to causes in which she believed: in the 1960s to the Community Institute founded by Dick Hensman in Sri Lanka, in more recent years to the Melbourne branch of the Ceylon Society of Australia.
As for matters of faith: Shelagh had been born and baptized into the Dutch Presbyterian Church to which the Jansen family belonged, but she converted to Roman Catholicism on her first marriage, and remained steadfastly faithful to it to the moment of her death. Her conversion did not affect her respect for other faiths, however, especially for Buddhism, of which she made a serious study with the encouragement of the Hensmans (themselves devoted Anglicans), bringing up her children Devinda and Devika in the Buddhist practices and beliefs of their father Ranjith Goonewardene.
Having known Shelagh Goonewardene for over 70 years (we met in Grade 1V at Bishop’s College , beginning a friendship then that lasted through our school and University days, and was enriched and deepened by the experiences that marriage and emigration brought with them), I had thought my affection for her and my respect for her memory were unique. Since she left us earlier this month, however, I have learned how mistaken I have been, as expressions of grief, tributes to her work in the arts, and outpourings of sorrow from friends of all ages and in many parts of the world have greeted the news of her death in Melbourne.
In the words of Wimalaraj Gunasegaram, a friend of Shelagh’s schooldays and mine, I recognize feelings so much akin to my own, that I cannot do better than quote them here:
“Shelagh was the most beautiful person that I called my friend. Her outward physical beauty and grace were matched by her inner beauty, gentleness, and kindness. It has been my privilege to have known her for 60 years. She has shown love, loyalty, charity, gentleness, kindness, and forgiveness in the most graceful manner - even to those who had hurt her or betrayed her. She suffered losses and pain without showing bitterness. She shared her intelligence, education, artistic talents, knowledge and literary understanding to help others have a better appreciation of these subjects. She has been a beacon in my life, and I am deeply grateful to her for making me a friend over these many years.”
Yasmine Gooneratne
She will always remain our ‘jewel in the crown’
Priyani Abeyesekera (nee Tennekoon)
Many have written in appreciation of Priyani Abeyesekera (nee Tennekoon), who passed away recently. We, her “gang” of close friends, are writing to share the impact she had on our individual and collective lives, since we first encountered each other in our earliest years at Ladies’ College. Priyani would probably chide us for doing this. She was humble and self-effacing to a fault, never seeking the lime-light herself, but rejoicing and glowing in the success of others. But our strong, unique friendship with Priyani compels this expression of our love and gratitude.
Priyani was an exceptional human being. We were blessed to have her in our lives for over five decades, encompassing our childhood pranks, our long-suffering parents, our slightly bemused teachers, our teenage uncertainties, our academic lives, our professional careers, our spouses and our children. In school, seriousness about studies and leadership as a house captain did not dampen her sense of mischief, including trying to plunge a classroom into darkness by removing the light bulb, and playing cards illicitly in the Prefects’ Room, which doubled informally as a Sixth Form common room.
When Priyani entered university, she chose to apply her precise and orderly mind to the study of Law, to the delight of her “Appachchi,” the late Victor Tennekoon, a renowned jurist himself. Law was a field in which she excelled academically and professionally. She was placed first in order of merit in her final examinations at both the Faculty of Law and the Sri Lanka Law College. After teaching briefly at the Faculty, she obtained a Masters in Law from Monash University. On her return, she chose the challenge of the commercial world over academia. After a short stint with Trans Asia Hotel, she took a legal position at Airlanka (now SrLankan Airlines), where she worked until she retired in 2012.
At SriLankan Airlines, a major part of Priyani’s work involved negotiating agreements and contracts, but she also oversaw litigation. Many important cases involving SriLankan were decided during her tenure as Manager, and later, Senior Manager, Legal. Her career at SriLankan was characterized by integrity and loyalty to the institution, whatever the pressures and wherever they came from. She commanded enormous respect professionally as a person who “always did what she believed was right.” She and her husband Harin instilled the principles and values they lived by so well in their son Ishan, her “boy”, and her “pride, her joy and her comfort still”.
It was not all work and no play. As a young woman, Priyani was a swimmer and played hockey for Ladies’ College, Colombo University and the Ceylonese Ladies Club. She had an abiding interest in all sports; she avidly followed cricket and tennis, and was elated to attend the 2012 Olympics with an equally sports-mad friend. Her eclectic musical taste ranged from classical to rock. She loved to dance, and dragged Harin to Salsa and Latin dancing classes. She had an innate sense of rhythm, and as a schoolgirl would drum on anything she could get hold of, a potential career as a drummer in a band thwarted by her excellent academic results! On the dance floor and in yoga classes, some of us attended together, she demonstrated an elegance of movement none of us could match.
We each brought our strong personalities into our friendship, but Priyani was, as one friend remarked, “the gentlest of us all and gave of herself unconditionally.” She made strong and diverse friendships throughout her academic and professional life. She did not flinch going the ‘extra mile’ to help a person in need, whether it was shielding colleagues from violence or making sure an ambulance was at the aircraft to transport the seriously ill mother of a friend. She unstintingly gave of her time and resources to help villagers in the border areas during the period of conflict, travelling in difficult and sometimes dangerous conditions.
To the parents of Priyani’s friends, she was another daughter, finding the time to visit when their own children were busy or away. She was just as caring and giving when it came to the younger generation, an “aunt” who followed our children’s journeys in life and shared joyously in their achievements. It was Priyani you turned to, to make hats, blow balloons and help with games at your child’s birthday party, or to help arrange flowers for your daughter’s wedding.
Like her mother, Priyani opened her home to many and was a wonderful hostess. Whether you were invited on the spur of the moment or more formally, she prepared meals with care and style. Priyani organised a trip to Wilpattu last year; and, although not strong enough to go on all the game rounds, she set the menus, did all the shopping and oversaw all the meals. Often, Priyani and Harin, returning from their estate, would appear on our doorsteps with bags of whatever fruit was in season. Even when we visited in the last few days of her life, Priyani was concerned about whether we had been served, and we were each given a bag of mangoes from her tree to take home.
Priyani loved to travel. Observing wild life, visiting historical monuments, hiking amid scenic splendour, whether roughing it in tents or sleeping in comfortable hotels, all she wanted was close friends to share the experience. In May 2010, on a wonderful trip together to Jaffna and Delft, Priyani delighted in the beautiful kovils, palmyrah trees, wild ponies, aged baobab and banyan trees, and in swimming in the calm, still sea. In September 2011, on holiday together in Spain, she revelled in the majesty of the Alhambra, cooking meals together in a little villa in Andalucia, and wandering among olive and fig trees and the beautiful El Torcal with its mountain goats and rock formations.
Priyani lived her life with dignity and composure. It was reflected in her demeanour and in the elegant but understated way she dressed, perfectly groomed whether in the traditional ‘osariya’ in Sri Lanka and superbly cut business suits in Europe for more formal events, or the tomboy shorts and t-shirts she relaxed in at home. Although she held strong opinions, she rarely said a sharp word or ruffled any feathers. She had a great sense of humour and her canny comments would either keep us in stitches, or put us firmly but gently in our place when she felt the need. Her witty rejoinders had no malice and she did not have an envious bone in her body. Our joys and successes were her joys and successes, and she bore our sorrows and failures with us.
Priyani epitomised the old adage, “In this world of froth and bubble, two things stand like stone, kindness in another’s trouble, courage in one’s own.” Would that we could have borne some of the anxiety, pain and discomfort she had to face in the last few years of her life. While we each gained from our friendship, Priyani was and will remain “the jewel in the crown” as one of our spouses described her, the patient listener, the giver of sound advice whenever sought, the bonding force who kept us together. We each learned from her example and from the gift of her friendship. We “thank our God upon every remembrance” of her and each moment that we spent together.
Sharya Scharenguivel Priyanthi Fernando Anila Dias Bandaranaike Dilkusha de Costa Shanti Conly
He didn’t forget the farmers
Gamani Jayasuriya
In the aim of seeing to the future wellbeing of the farming community and of the farmers who were reaching the twilight of their lives, the former Member of Parliament for Homagama, and Minister of Agricultural Research and Development Gamani Jayasuriya brought forward the “Farmers’ Pension Scheme” which was introduced by President J. R. Jayewardene on March 29, 1987 in Medirigiriya, Polonnaruwa.
Farmers endure immense hardship to produce food for the people in this country. Though floods, droughts and other disasters constantly ruin their cultivation they do not give up. The Farmers’ Pension Scheme was introduced to appreciate such commitment. Through this scheme the structure of the social system took a new twist. The lives of the neglected farmer community were improved.
This project was the result of Anagarika Dharmapala’s attitude towards the nation. In other words the project was based on Dharmapala’s vision. “Stand up for your rights. Learn to love your poor, hungry and suffering village farmer who is the brother you have forgotten. Remember that the backbone of the Sinhalese nation was formed upon the farming and the working class and not on a few barristers and doctors who obtained their degrees overseas.”
(A message for the youth of Sri Lanka- Anagarika Dharmapala) Gamani Jayasuriya was thus able to uplift the farmer community that had been overlooked and neglected since colonization and after.
Vijaya Kathriarachchi (Gamani Jayasuriya’s birth anniversary falls on April 30)
An angel who walked amongst us for a short while
KSHIRABDHI ARULIAH
I began to love Kshirabdhi very dearly when, as a little girl of about five, she came to my Speech and Drama classes. Petite and beautiful with wide eyes and buttermilk skin she would sit in class and listen attentively and obediently. Her voice had a bird-like timbre and at a very early age she was able to bring out the subtle shades of meaning in whatever she read out loud or recited. Now that she is no more, many of those who knew and loved her remember her reciting poetry with such confidence in a clear and expressive voice.
Kshirabdhi is the daughter of two of our dearest friends, Sarla and Sega Nagendra. She is the fond elder sister of Prashan and sister-in-law of Chameli. They are a loving and close family and losing Kshirabdhi is a terrible blow.
Like our mothers before us, Sarla and I were together at Ladies’ College and our children too grew up together. Kshirabdhi was at Ladies’ College until her ‘O’ Levels. She was a keen student and, like her mother and grandmother before her, excelled in athletics. She then went on to the Colombo International School where she was Games Captain.
Kshirabdhi married Jekhan Aruliah and, after living for a few years in Sri Lanka, the couple and their young son, Karnan, moved to England. Despite the time consuming tasks of running a house and looking after a young child, Kshirabdhi found time to do a course in teaching differently-abled children and began helping out in a nearby school. She continued to work with these children, completely free of charge, until her demise.
While she was in England we communicated mostly via emails and phone calls. It gave me joy to see this young girl grow up into a strong and confident woman who coped remarkably with a crippling illness. Her positive attitude was an inspiration. She never spoke ill of anyone or complained of the excruciating pain she endured on a daily basis.
Karnan was Kshirabdhi’s pride and joy and indeed he is worthy of her great love and sacrifice. He is a brilliant student who has excelled in his academic studies as well as in a wide range of extra-curricular activities. Whenever Karnan won an award or took part in a school event I would receive pictures of him from his proud mother. Kshirabdhi also told me that she spent long hours talking with her son guiding him and instilling in him the right values and beliefs which were so precious to her. I believe her efforts were not in vain for today Karnan is an exceptional young man, mature for his age, pleasant and caring. In this day where the generation gap widens and clashes between the old and the young seem irreconcilable, theirs was a bond made in heaven. Though for a very short time, Karnan had the very best mother he could have got in this world and, in turn, Kshirabdhi had the best son.
Kshirabdhi herself was aware that despite everything modern medicine had to offer, there was the ever-present likelihood that she would succumb to her illness. It is truly amazing that, in the face of all this she remained undaunted, brave, positive and cheerful. She is a shining example to all of us who grumble with much less cause.
Kshirabdhi was an angel who walked amongst us for a short while. She is now free of pain and despair and back with the angels. While we mourn her death let us celebrate her life and all she stood for.
Nirmali Hettiarachchi
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