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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. He
kept vigil with me in London 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. She
loved to help others 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.
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.
You loved the
tunes I composed. But today, I
play one last tune, A frank and
simple man 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. |
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Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers
Ltd. All rights reserved. |
