Appreciations
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sound of her violin will not be silenced by the killer waves Orlantha who played the violin from the age of three was a dedicated young teacher who came to Sri Lanka on holiday and decided to introduce an easier way of learning the violin. She came here in 2003 and held a violin camp for six weeks with children from different schools. She also had a performance at the end of the camp. Later that year she had a performance titled 'An Island Christmas'. The children also went carolling and had charity performances at the children's ward of the Maharagama cancer hospital, the Marion and St. Andrew’s elders’ homes, Preethipura home and the Welikada prison. On hearing the group play at various places in Colombo more children joined to learn the violin in January 2004. She had many beginners including my sister Priyanti and myself. The youngest student was four years old. Once again it was time to have the summer camp. With school exams in between we practised hard and had a performance in August which thrilled the audience. After a short holiday in the United States, she returned to Sri Lanka in October and had her holiday camp. During this time the group had grown from 39 to 65 children. The camp had an informal atmosphere with children of all ages interacting. We knew with practice nothing was impossible. The children described the class as fun as it provided the atmosphere for us to enjoy the music with our friends. When our music books were given almost everyone had attempted playing all the pieces. Parents didn't have to push us to practise. When the small children took time to understand, she was always patient and explained till they got it. I've never met a teacher like Orlantha who taught us music in a novel way. She worked closely with her parents during the rehearsals. Preparing for this performance was not an easy task since many had year-end exams and other activities being the festive season. Orlantha had rehearsals every day sacrificing everything to see that we would play our best. Last minute rehearsals were tiring, but on the other hand they were fun. At last the day came for our performance of ‘An Island Christmas’. Our nervousness was forgotten when we saw the smiling face of Orlantha. Sudden tragedy took our dear teacher's life while on a holiday after the concert when the disastrous tidal wave struck the shores of Yala leaving almost everyone in the arms of Jesus. We will always remember her smile, kindness, dedication, love and the passion to teach. She taught us to play the violin and gave confidence that we could do it. I myself would never have held the violin if not for her. She showed us that nothing was hard. Learning to play the violin, one of the hardest instruments, was a dream come true to me, but news of her demise gave a shock to us. May our dear teacher Orlantha and her mother rest in peace.
Lasika Jayamaha The
doctor with a social mission We entered medical college together. There, what with our hectic work schedule, and more importantly, Michael's entry into Kami's orbit, our schoolgirl intimacy diminished. After graduation our paths diverged. Kami went on to specialize in paediatrics. Together with her surgeon husband they served in outstations for many years before finally coming to Colombo. They continued the tradition of dedicated service inculcated in them by their parents, notably their fathers, Drs. George Wickramasuriya and Lloyd Abeyaratne. After an early retirement, they worked in Saudi Arabia for a couple of years before returning to Colombo. One day in 1995, the even tenor of the life of a close-knit family was shattered, when on a routine trip to Beliatte to conduct a free clinic, they were involved in a car crash. Kami sustained severe multiple injuries, and was hovering between life and death for several months. She was recovering slowly when fate dealt her a body blow. Her blood tested positive for HIV, the sequel of an infected blood transfusion. 'Why Kami of all people', we wondered. She had already experienced more than her share of personal tragedy. A lesser mortal would have given up. Not Kami, whose indomitable will took her along to the most important phase of her life. She became the voice of the voiceless. Determined like Don Quixote to 'Right the Unrightable Wrong', she formed 'The AIDS Coalition for Care and Education and Support Services (ACCESS)'. She appeared on many platforms, attended several international conferences supportive of HIV victims. Periods of disabling illness alternated with apparent normality, when she was as active as ever. I once met her in Habarana on her way to a remote border village to conduct a clinic. On another occasion, despite breathlessness, she delivered the prestigious Prof. Rajasuriya Oration, based mainly on the pioneering work of her father. Over the last few months she was in and out of hospital. The inevitable could no longer be postponed. May she rest in peace. Premini Amerasinghe Riot-buster
Gaffie was a gentle giant Gaffie joined the Police Department as a Sub-Inspector in 1956. A good policeman, he did his work well and got his promotions regularly. He retired in 1987 as a Senior Gazetted Officer, whilst holding the rank of Deputy Inspector General. He served in most parts of Sri Lanka as SI, IP, ASP, SP, SSP and DIG. His record was exemplary and he received many commendations and accolades throughout his career. Gaffie studied at Zahira College, Matale, his home town. He represented the school in boxing and hockey. Matale produced many national hockey players like the Wijekoon brothers and Kotinkaduwas. Gaffie himself was no mug with the hockey stick and went on to represent the Matale team in India, in a tournament in 1954. I have seen him in the boxing ring, pitted against M.D. Perera, in a Police Inter-Division Meet. "MD" was a scientific boxer who threw punches at Gaffie from a distance, but would not dare get closer as Gaffie packed two heavy punches in his left and right fists. He was a hard puncher. A.C.A. Gaffoor was described as the "Biggest Police officer this side of the Suez", by a writer. In his halcyon days he had the physique of a professional heavyweight fighter/boxer or a Greco-Roman wrestler of the 14th century. Gaffie has been to my home in the south a few times. On the first occasion, my late mother who was a humble head teacher of a school, asked him in jest whether his entire body belonged to him. During his Sub Inspector/Inspector days, his forte was tackling crowds of protestors -- be they strikers, rioters, university students or fasting Buddhist monks. He was picked from wherever he was and rushed to the trouble-spot. His mere presence at a trouble-spot was sufficient for any mob to desist from acts of violence or wanton destruction. Once whilst on strike duty somewhere at Borella, he was struck down by a stone which landed on his forehead. He was rushed to hospital, the wound was sutured and he rushed back to the spot against medical advice. Such was his dedication to duty. With advancing years, his body became flabby and unwieldy, very much to his discomfort. Though Gaffie had a tough exterior, inside his ribs ticked a kind heart and he was a soft spoken man. He was a gentle giant who was generous to all and sundry. This made him popular wherever he served. He was a ruthless crime investigator. The writer, Rex Stanislaus - the Josephian Public Schools athlete and Gaffie were attached to the Kalmunai Police Station as Sub-Inspectors in the early sixties. Once, a thief who had stolen more than a dozen push bicycles, was brought to the police station. Gaffie, in his enthusiasm to get more information, attempted to trample the thief. The horror stricken thief clung onto the ankle of Gaffie with both hands and it was a struggle for Gaffie to extricate his leg. In the process, the thief had left deep nail marks on Gaffie's ankle which got infected and took a considerable period of time to heal. Gaffie too had his moments of unbearable deep sorrow. One such instance was the murder of his younger brother ASP Sahabdeen by an assassin at Maradana in 1989. It took sometime for Gaffie to overcome this sadness. The most beautiful thing in the life of Gaffie that I observed was his beautiful handwriting, which was beyond compare. His writing was like a work of art or a beautiful painting. I have not seen better handwriting in the Police Department. Gaffie led a happy and contented life. My condolences go to his kith and kin. May he attain Jennatul Firdouse. Bandula Seneviratne The
honesty of an intellectual I recall his letter on Anagarika Dharmapala, his studies on the government's racist textbooks and his exchanges with the Jatika Chintanaya crowd. A. Shunmuganathan |
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