APPRECIATIONS
View(s):A great legal luminary whose hallmark was his humility
H.L. DE SILVA
When I first met my senior, he was handling three massive election petitions simultaneously, following the 1983 by-elections for the then electorates of Kalawana, Akmeemana and Mulkirigala. I marvelled at how he could handle so much of work at the same time. He told me that it was a matter of thorough organisation and commitment. The late Deshamanya E. D. Wickramanayake, the late V. W. Kularatne, Gomin Dayasiri, Nimal Siripala de Silva, Javid Yusuf and a few others assisted him in those matters and he had great faith in them.
From the very beginning, my senior impressed upon me three principal matters. The first was not to run after money, but to keep working on the quality of work. He too did not crowd his day. He limited himself to just one case a day. Exceptionally, he took two cases a day but only when both cases were to be heard in one and the same courtroom. He always said that a lawyer owed it to his client to read the brief from cover to cover, study every minute detail, and fully research all aspects of the case.
The second one was that brevity is the essence of all good drafting. This is something he said over and over again. Once, in the early 90s, I submitted to him my draft of the final written submissions in a writ application, where the client was Walker and Sons. I had laboured for a couple of days over a dozen pages. I showed him the draft, and in half an hour he whittled it down to three and a half pages. His edited version was far, far, more forceful and effective.
The third one was that one’s ethics were more important than one’s personality. This he always maintained, while giving personality its due place. The time I refer to here was at least five years before the appearance of Stephen Covey’s book on the seven great habits of highly successful people. My senior fought his cases hard and long, but the fight was clean all the way. His regular opponents were H. W. Jayewardene, Q.C., A. C. Guneratna, Q.C., Eric Amerasinghe, P.C., K. N. Choksy, P.C., N.R.M. Daluwatte, P.C., L.C. Seneviratne, P.C., P.A.D. Samarasekera, P.C. and Faiz Musthapha, P.C. Those were the days when the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal worked both sessions, forenoon and afternoon, and real, substantive work was diligently done by everyone concerned. My senior was at the top of it all, committed to the cause at the highest level.
Once, an opponent who was a comparatively junior silk, called one evening and told us not to get ready for the following morning’s case as he would not be able to come to court. My senior told me not to take the opposing lawyer seriously, saying he that would turn up in court with some lame excuse to us and tell the court that he was ready for the argument! Morning came, and, lo and behold, the opponent was there with his lame excuse telling court that he was ready. My senior was thoroughly prepared, and within minutes into the argument, he demolished the opponent’s case. We have since related this story often, but always without letting the identity of the opponent out.
A striking quality in my senior was his humility. Two good examples come to my mind at once. The first one was when I was a complete rookie just one month into my pupillage. My senior was handling a final appeal involving a piece of gem land in Eheliyagoda, and a writ matter involving a tea factory in Morawaka. He had given me the two briefs more than two weeks previously, and I had prepared summaries doing extensive research. In both those cases Mr. D. S. Wijesinghe, who later became a President’s Counsel himself, was the retained junior. My senior and he without any hesitation put their briefs aside and used the ‘mini briefs’ I had prepared.
The second one was in 1991 or 1992, when my senior started winding up his Court of Appeal practice. When asked why he was doing this comparatively early in his career, his reply was that ‘juniors also must come up’.
A lot of people thought he was arrogant but he was, in fact, a very amiable, down to earth person. Of course, he was, almost always, preoccupied with profound thoughts. Not that his brilliance came from just nowhere!
When the occasion warranted, my senior could leave aside his humility, and justifiably rise to the occasion. A senior Justice of the apex court in the early 90s was well known for interrupting counsel appearing before him without letting them present their respective cases in any orderly manner. At one hearing in courtroom 502, this happened again and again to my senior. He turned and looked at me as if to say ‘watch this’ and then turned to the interrupting one and thundered ‘it is Your Lordship’s constitutional duty to hear the parties’. No one expected something like this to happen, and the most impacted was none other than the interrupting one himself. He shut up, and my senior’s presentation went on swiftly thereafter. In the other cases thereafter, this senior justice never interrupted my senior, and the great thing about him was that he did not harbour any grudges. Despite his tendency to interrupt counsel, this senior judge was a great man of high quality.
On another instance, when my senior was appearing in the Supreme Court in a disciplinary rule matter against a lawyer, the complaint that had allegedly been made against him had not been, and was not, made available to him or his legal team led by my senior. My senior raised this matter as impacting on the very core basis of the proceedings, and the violation of the applicable rules. To everybody’s surprise the presiding judge brushed it aside vehemently saying that the rules need not be followed as the complaint was in reference to matters that allegedly happened within the well of the Supreme Court. My senior dryly commented that he was not surprised that the presiding judge was not following the audi alteram partem rule and was not mindful of the right of the respondent to have access to the complaint against him. This evoked a round of cheerful banter in the courtroom. The fuming presiding judge threatened to then and there issue a Rule on my senior!
H. L. de Silva passed away in early April 2009 at the age of 81 years. He will tarry at the good place till, God willing, we reach it ourselves. May he rest in peace.
-ARIA
The values you instilled in us will help us through these difficult times
ANNE ABAYASEKERA
My siblings and I find ourselves thinking of our beloved Amma who would have turned 95 on April 4 this year had she been alive. Yet we are so grateful to God for the 89+ years He gave her, as she passed three months shy of her 90th!
It came sooner than we anticipated and yet with each day that passes we realise how blessed we were in having her and thatha in our lives. Having grown up at a time devoid of TV and social media and mobile phones, we seemed to have time for each other and having been in a family of seven kids we learned to share, to settle our own fights, to get along with someone different whilst imbibing values and principles for our lives. As I sat during curfew hours with my daughter and family in our family home where I grew up, memories seemed to flood me of times past, when it was normal for a family to sit every night to have dinner together. Amma was one who always had table mats in place and there was order. Oh, we were not perfect …we did have the squabbles and arguments and hurts and I know, I did sulk! Yet the laughter, the banter, chuckles at the table bring many a smile to my face even now.
Amma was very demonstrative in her love for thatha and as well as for us. Somehow it was not limited to us alone but for all who entered in. Five years on words such as ‘warmth’, ‘affection/ unlimited love’, ‘safety’, ‘strength’, ‘a listening ear’ are what I think of as I reflect. She faced whatever challenges came with courage and we never hid anything from her.
Thatha’s and her love for each other gave us kids the security we needed growing up. Theirs was an amazing friendship. They had common interest in books and literature, in politics and the world, and in people of all ages Though they may not have agreed on some things they were able to laugh at each other and sometimes be willing to change for the other.
One would have thought seven kids is enough of a big household and yet they always had room for others when we had cousins stay with us for long periods of time or there was always enough food to stretch for whoever dropped in close to a meal time. Our birthdays were always celebrated (not lavish parties) but enough to make us feel special. They didn’t force us to choose our careers or insist on science or math or the arts but gently helped us choose according to our interests and abilities. They stood by and applauded when we succeeded and were always there when we didn’t do too well! I was never fearful to take a bad report home and comparison between us was unheard of. I feel sad that many kids today are terrified to show their reports to their parents. I am deeply saddened too the way I see parents push their children to achieve all the time and try to live out their dreams though their children. As a result I see many hurting children who feel they are only loved if they achieve high results.
I know what amma and thatha desired most..that we grow up to be men and women of integrity, having qualities such as showing kindness to others no matter what race or religion, to treat others with respect, to be there for someone who is hurting, to be generous in our love for people, and to share whatever our resources.
Material wealth was not what they encouraged but that we be decent human beings. They taught us all this and more, simply by the way they lived and acted.
They were both writers and were never afraid to speak out for what was right and just. Amma was a journalist right to the end. She combined her skills as a counsellor too and readily listened to people in their hurts and distress.
Her love for God was evidenced by us all and thatha and she made it easier for us to believe in a Heavenly Father.
March 18, 2020, would have been their 73rd anniversary. God gave them 59 years together and amma lived to see four great grands too.
I was blessed in living in the same compound as her and in her later years would often join her in the garden with a cup of tea where we used to chat about many things. I do miss her very much as do my siblings and their spouses and the grandchildren. Yet thatha and she left us a rich legacy and we try in our small way to live out those values and attitudes each day.
As I try to recall the many things she used to tell us this quote jumps out at me and I see its importance and relevance in our times today when we like to think we are busy but have no time for the important…to slow down and listen to another.
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel” Maya Angelou
Thanks Amma and Thatha for how you made us feel …with God’s help we will continue our journeys especially during these difficult days in our world, remembering the values you instilled in us.
-Sarla Williams
A fond memoir of those carefree days
BERTRAM FERNANDO
This tribute to my dear friend Bertram is not one of those all too common post-mortem CVs although his achievements have been outstanding. This is a fond memoir of the carefree youth we briefly shared in our bachelor home “Shanti Alaya” in Nuwara Eliya from 1957 to 1959.
We were a few young government staff officers who had just been appointed to various departments in this hill station and had been roughing it out in assorted hostelries. Our band consisted of Paul Perera (Asst.Archivist), Bodhidasa (Asst. Food Controller), Stanley Fernando (Agricultural Administrator), Premawardhana (CCS Cadet), Bertram (Electrical Engineer) and me – the District Land Officer. As Bertram had been the longest resident and most enterprising of us, he readily persuaded us to band together and rent a house for ourselves. The house that Bertram (who else?) found was ‘Shanti Alaya’, a sparsely furnished bungalow on a quiet hill just outside town.
It is passing strange that, apart from Pera grad Premawardhana, although the rest of us had been exact contemporaries at the University at Thurstan Road – we had never known each other as undergrads. But once we settled down in Shanti Alaya we developed a camaraderie that was to last our lifetimes.
To understand this narrative, I will sketch the Nuwara Eliya of this era. 1957 was just a few months after the “apey aanduwa” triumph of 1956 – but the winds of change had barely ruffled it. The Park flourished with poppies, bluebells and hollyhocks. British planters rode around in large Standard and Wolseley cars and their wives shopped around in Cargills and Whiteaways. Horse races were run in April. R.H.D. Manders, the last British Government Agent, yet ran the district from a creaking wooden ‘kachcheri’. Naturally among the town’s elite was our band of young officers, swanking around in smartly tailored (pre-owned a.k.a ‘bale’) sports coats, courtesy Selvasingh Stores. MPs were barely to be seen except as polite pleaders of peasant problems.
What fascinated me about Bert, apart from his wit and good humour, was the incredible variety of his interests and friendships. Many of our evenings were spent swapping yarns and song. Here Bert surprised me with his rendering of the almost forgotten Sinhala songs of Rupasinghe Master, Rukmani Devi, Suriya Sankar Molligoda and Hindi singers such as Lata Mangeshkar and Mohamed Rafi. Premawardhana matched him with the lyrics from ‘Maname’ accompanied by superb ‘tabla’ riffs on our resonant dining table. Bert had assorted friends – Reggie, Samson and Christo who briefly enjoyed our hospitality on their way to or from some escapade or other. Occasionally we entertained hitchhikers roaming around the country.
Thanks to Bert’s fellow Anandian(?) the handsome film star Ananda Weerakoon we became friends with the veteran Emily Dimbulane (married to a govt. officer), the comedienne Mabel Blythe (whose parents lived in Kandapola) and Ananda’s co-star in ‘Rekawa’ Mallika Pilapitiya of Hanguranketa.
Cars and racing were another of his loves. His six-cylinder Zephyr easily led our more sedate models as we raced round Lake Gregory. The annual April Motor races brought many of his motor racing friends to town. I remember Norman Suby and his famous Simca racer. Also the cute Healey Sprite and Triumph Roadster that made brief appearances.
We did occasionally step into the very pukka Grand Hotel – though not to savour a five star meal. We patronised the Hotel’s master hairdresser, Bert, played a few rounds of billiards and shared light-hearted banter with the lovely salesgirl at the Hotel’s bookshop and music store.
Somewhere in1958 the first storm cloud of communal riots broke our peaceful lives. For the first time curfew was declared. As local VIPs the staff officers of Shanti Alaya were given carte-blanche ‘curfew passes’. Deprived of evening entertainment our rescue came from PWD Engineer Roomi Jainudeen and his English wife who hosted endless sing-songs to Mrs. Roomi’s piano. To their great good fortune, the curfew lapsed before long and we slipped back, rather subdued, into life as it had been.
As the town’s Electrical Engineer Bert wielded the powers of light and darkness, and as such enjoyed much popularity as he could grant concessions to various establishments. One perk we enjoyed was persuading the local film operator to delay the main feature film till Bert and his friends were spruced up after a day of hill climbing inspections and presiding at Village Council elections.
As the lyric went “those were the days, my friend….we thought they’d never end” …but they did. Transfers and matrimony conspired to move us from this paradise of earthly delights whose presiding deity was Bertram Fernando.
Goodbye Bertram, dear friend of my youth, and the happiness we shared.
-Tissa Devendra
From doctor-patient relationship to great friendship
Dr.W.B. Wijekoon
Dr.W.B.Wijekoon, Consultant Physician passed away a few weeks ago at the age of 86 years.
I came to know him in 1974 when he was the Visiting Physician at the Kalutara Base Hospital and I was the Government Agent of the Kalutara District. My relationship with him commenced as doctor-patient. But over the years it developed to be one of strong friendship- one that lasted for nearly half a century until his death.
With both of us back in Colombo in the late 70s, I came to know him more intimately and my family doctor became my family friend. When he built his house at Nawala he wanted my wife and I to be the first visitors. He and Rohini, who predeceased him visited us in Jakarta.
Sinha as he was known to his close friends was a model physician. His students used to tell me that he was a strict teacher. He used to keep them on their toes.
There were many rare qualities Sinha possessed and practised. Punctuality was one. Whether it was at the ward or the consultancy room he was there at the given time.
To many a patient he looked a matter of fact doctor. But he was a very soft person who cared for his patients very much.
One of his patients had written a beautiful poem in July 2014 about him (he passed on the poem to me). I quote here a few lines written by a retired principal Mrs. W.J.M.A.M. Subasinghe.
“Our veteran is a quintessential doctor
Who lives and breathes with patients.
Like a chocolate outer hard and inner so sweet
The longer your job title –the less important you are
Being an ideal model of a doctor unique in many respects.
Dr.W.B. Wijekoon –Consultant Physician –charismatic to fingertips.”
Those of us who were close to him felt that he could have continued to practise but he was not keen on it. He used to write to the newspapers on medical and non-medical matters.
His death was the end of a long friendship between him and my family. It will take long for Anoma and me to forget him. He pulled us out from several critical situations in our lives.
P.G. Punchihewa