Appreciations
View(s):A larger than life person he had time for everyone
AZLI ISMAIL
Ahamed Ghazzali Ismail – or Azli as he was universally known – passed away on April 19, at the relatively young age of 61 years. But boy, did he live those years large!
This was made even more self-evident by the outpouring of grief from so many people who felt a light had been extinguished. He touched people’s lives through his passion for music, cars and food, amongst many other interests which he had. But, mostly he had something very precious that he gave freely – time!
I have known Azli since my early teens, and we were naturally attracted to his welcoming home in Kynsey Road where his modest room was packed to the brim with all manner of gadgets. For teenagers wanting to look ‘cool’, Azli was an essential resource as he would equip you with gadgets, jokes and the like.
Azli was not the studious type and ended up spending most of his school hours at Royal outside the classroom. His real love was fiddling with anything mechanical, and he started his career at Richard Peiris & Co, where he apprenticed under David Peiris, who he accompanied on many trips overland to participate in the Formula races at Sholawaram, Tamil Nadu. In due course he started his own workshop which he ran for many years, whilst being associated with several other enterprises in the motor trade.
During his schooldays, Azli was persuaded by his parents to take up competitive swimming. Whilst he was naturally gifted, the discipline of rigorous training was not for him, and he took every opportunity to go through sessions expending the least amount of energy. I still remember one competitive swim meet, where he dived in, frog fashion, evoking laughter from the spectators, although his father was not amused. I believe his swimming career came to an end shortly thereafter!
But, his real passion was designing home theatres, and with Azli it was never just about supplying the equipment. If you asked him to undertake a project, there was no pulling out and it most always ended up in redesigning the room interiors to bring out the best sound/picture quality. And of course, the job was never finished until he organized a party to demonstrate his work to the friends of the client!
From our young days the most enjoyable experiences we had were travelling around the country. Although we started off as a gang of guys, soon it extended to a gang of couples and Azli was the star of the show. He would pay meticulous detail to the food, drink, music and everything else it took to make a memorable trip. I remember well a recent trip to Jaffna where we had hired a 40-seater bus, and together with our families we set off around midnight for the long trip. Not only had he organized food and drinks for the journey, but, also cold towels ….. such was his attention to detail!
I also got to know Azli from a very different perspective as I had the good fortune of marrying his sister Azira. I could not have asked for more gracious and loving in-laws, but, this I already knew as we spent so much time in their house when we were kids. He was very close to his cousins and their families and I know the Ismail family will feel the void.
He married Petra at the relatively late age of 36 years. I am sure her Bavarian parents must have been concerned at the thought of their only daughter moving to Sri Lanka. But, like most people he touched, he won their affection and even persuaded them to cook his favourite curries on his many trips to Munich. Although they do not have children of their own, Azli was very much the family man and the ‘cool’ uncle to our kids, and indeed to many of the kids in our extended circle of friends.
Azli looked to be in great shape in April 2019, so it came as a complete shock to us when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. This would have been devastating news to most anybody, but, Azli being the person he was, fought his illness with courage, optimism and humour. During his frequent visits to hospital, he befriended the nursing staff, tea boys et al with his ready smile and endless supply of jokes. And it was the same with Doctors who would take a breather from their busy schedules to chat and have a laugh with him.
Whenever there was a band, Azli would love to get on the bandstand and usually he would belt out his favourite song – Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Way’. It is so fitting that the lyrics exemplified his approach to life on earth
And now the end is here
And so I face that final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I travelled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
He leaves behind his devoted wife Petra, his loving mother Lathifa, his sister Azira, his extended family, many many friends …. and of course Alexa!
RIP my friend and brother. We will all miss you. You enriched our lives and we will always treasure the memories of good times spent together.
Husein Esufally
He cared and he showed up
Ranjit Goonetilleke
We have different ways of coming to love the people we love. With some people you fall in love, with others you grow slowly into love, some are loved because they are lovable, others are loved even when they are not. With some people, you love them because they loved you first; their love and care is so palpable that you cannot help but know it, and they have a forever place in your heart because of it.
Ranjit Uncle was one of those. My mother’s only brother, he treated us, his nieces, with such fondness and care that I think all four of us have a special place in our hearts for him. My first “told” memory of him is when he brought me a life-size (at least toddler-sized) teddy bear as a gift – it apparently scared me to bits, yet, giving lie to that story is a photograph of me, sitting happily (and fatly, I might add), clutching the teddy as one would a favourite toy.
My other early memory of him is also related to gifts. Every year, each of us received an “Annual” (e.g. Princess Tina Annual) as a Christmas gift. Looking back, I suspected money changed hands between him and my mother or grandmother, and the Annuals were surreptitiously purchased during our annual shopping spree to Fort in December. My parents did not have a lot of money to spare when we were growing up, and these little bits of extravagance came our way courtesy Ranjit Uncle, who was a bachelor, at least in the early lives of three of us.
When he married Aunty Vivette in 1969, I was his flower girl, an honour I cherished. When he had a son – my cousin, Rajiv – of his own, I recall my five-year-old self being jealous – perhaps we would lose our place in Ranjit Uncle’s favour. But we never did. Gifts gave way to holidays, at China Bay, in Trincomalee, at Diyatalawa, and finally at Katunayake, wherever he happened to be stationed, in his job in the Air Force, where he eventually rose to be Air Commodore. When he and his family moved to Colombo, my younger sister and I would still spend a day or two of our holidays staying with them at the Summit Flats. My memories of all these holidays are of exciting, fun-filled days.
I think Ranjit Uncle’s love and care for us stemmed from his love for my mother, his elder sister. He would talk of being grateful to her for “paying for his education”. In my mother’s typical unassuming way, she confessed to me that all she ever did was once pay for some books he needed. But he, rightly, probably, took that as evidence of her moral support and was eternally grateful. He was heartbroken when she was ill, and was a regular visitor to her hospital bed. My last memory of visiting my mother includes a memory of Ranjit Uncle and me both putting on our footwear outside the ICU, his eyes filled with tears. No doubt he also had painful recollections of losing Aunty Vivette – also to cancer—almost exactly ten years before.
Ranjit Uncle was an involved parent and grandparent. Thinking perhaps of his own father’s patriarchal distance, he approved heartily that my husband was actively engaged in the bringing up of our daughter. After the passing of my mother (his sister) and father, he increased his involvement in our (his nieces’) lives. He and his second wife, Chitra, hosted us to Christmas lunch every year. They attended my book launch. They visited and stayed with my family in Kandy. He would keep in regular contact with my younger sister who lived alone, making sure all was well with her. He and Aunty Chitra would call my sister who lived overseas for her birthday, and be concerned if the phone was not answered. When he knew of the gravity of my brother-in-law’s illness, he did his best to convey it to me, while keeping his promise to my elder sister not to talk about it.
He had his own views about how life should be lived, and he lived by them. Rest and relaxed enjoyment was an important part of his life. I think he slightly disapproved of my tendency to overwork. Having a long retirement, living at a restful pace was something he enjoyed, yet, he remained active, involved with his grandson and the care of others. I am grateful to him and to Aunty Chitra that their verandah was always open to me. I would only need to call a few minutes before arrival, and I would be given a warm welcome. I will miss those long, leisurely evening chats until we meet again on a heavenly verandah, beyond the sunset.
Dileni Gunewardena
A pioneer in medical health and our unofficial father and guardian
Dr.Nihal Abeysundare
Uncle Nihal, fondly called by all studying medicine in Bangladesh during the 80s, bid farewell causing much sadness, shock and grief.
Dr. Nihal Abeysundare was a pioneer and veteran in public health who was held in high esteem locally and internationally. A product of Colombo Medical College in the early 60s, he started his public health career as the Medical Officer of Health, Horana. His passion to serve the public in preventive medicine would have started from there. That journey was unstoppable until he achieved the important position of the WHO’s country head in Bangladesh and Nepal.
The malaria epidemic was the leading public health problem in Sri Lanka at the time he joined the Anti-Malaria Campaign in the 60s.
He fought that battle as a consultant malariologist with his scientific knowledge at the national level in Sri Lanka and later in Nepal and Bangladesh. His immense knowledge and experience gained as the Chief Epidemiologist in the Health Ministry of Sri Lanka was highly recognized and well utilized by WHO to serve this region. Even after his retirement his expertise was sought by UN agencies to formulate health policies in Sri Lanka and other countries alike.
I was lucky to associate with Uncle Nihal and his lovely family during my medical schooldays in Bangladesh. His doors were always open with tasty meals made by Aunty Nalini to all Sri Lankan students at any given time. He was our unofficial father and guardian whom we all could approach for any assistance which he would offer wholeheartedly. Even after graduation, he would with open hands extend his support as a friend and mentor.
He was great host and joyful loving personality to his friends and colleagues at all times. I can still remember the fantastic fellowships he hosted at family and official events. Those nostalgic memories still live in our hearts.
Uncle Nihal was truly a family man who lived by his faith as a devout Catholic. His alma mater, St Peter’s College had nurtured him to follow this all through his life. Nirain and Nilani, his two children have excelled in their careers, as a bio-medical engineer in USA and at the UNDP Sri Lanka respectively. I am sure dear aunty Nalini with whom he shared his life’s journey, would be missing him every moment.
May his soul have eternal rest in the hands of the Lord.
Dr Tilak Silva
Lessons that my father taught me
Lakshman Soysa
My father passed away on November 7, 2020 after a period of illness which peaked in June. I left Sri Lanka over 30 years ago to pursue my studies and settled in the US.
The most difficult part of being apart is the memories we don’t get to share with our loved ones. The last time I got to hug my father was three years ago and despite my fervent desire to do that one more time before the day we all knew was coming, COVID had other plans.
Both myself and my brother who resides in Australia had to say our goodbyes virtually without being with our mother and sister.
If I summarize Thathi in a few words, they would be humility, integrity, planner, musical, learner, dutiful, empathetic. Having lost his own father at the age of 11, growing up was not easy, yet through perseverance he graduated as an electrical engineer from Peradeniya. Thathi was a telecom man. Having joined SLTD as a junior engineer, he reached the peak as Additional Director of Telecommunications and was directly responsible for establishing the IT infrastructure at SLTD and computerizing the billing system.
He was a life-long learner and embraced a technology that was completely new in the early 80’s and unleashed its benefits far and wide, touching many people. One of his distinct phrases was “you must be able to do what you ask of others yourself first”, a truism that leaders often forget today.
As well as learning, he was also very focused on “bringing others to the top”, especially those he was responsible for. The multitude of WhatsApp messages from his former colleagues acknowledging his character was humbling to read.
In the midst of his rising career, he still had the boldness to step outside the norm. A two-year stint in Brunei as an expat with three young children would be daunting for most, but he and my mother did it. Thanks to that step, my siblings and I got to experience the world at an early age. His two tours as a UN Telecom consultant to Nepal and Yemen are yet more examples of his willingness to see beyond the comfort zone.
Despite all his achievements, Thathi was the most humble person I know of, and who always had consideration for the downtrodden. As a senior government official dealing with a multitude of foreign corporations vying for business in Sri Lanka, my father had ample opportunity to lead an opulent lifestyle with the appropriate favours. But he held personal integrity to the highest standard. Many times did I hear him say “be honest, and you can face anyone’s criticism.”
Education was big in our house. My biggest lesson that I apply every day is “any problem can be solved if you break it down to first principles”. He once told me “you live to study”, after a particular not-so-glowing report card, all in the name of ensuring that I had the best future. This was proven when he had to make a momentous decision at the peak of his career, climb up the leadership ladder after SLTD privatised or take early retirement and migrate to Brunei as an expat consultant so that my siblings and I could complete our higher education abroad. He chose the latter and thankfully, all three of us were set for life.
My father loved music. While he was an accomplished classical guitarist, you could find him manning the guitar or the piano during the impromptu singing sessions with his friends at most parties after a few shots. He wasn’t perfect by any means but he loved his wife and children and strived to provide the best for us and anyone else in need.
This is a mere drop in the ocean when describing who my father was. While I miss him dearly, his passing-away is moving me to be and do better in every aspect of my life by being bolder, fairer, kinder, learn more, love more and enjoy this life. If I can look back and say I did something worthwhile with my life as he had, then I would be lucky indeed.
May you rest in peace Thathi and may God bless you.
Sulak Soysa