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Artists, journalists, friends and publishers pay tribute to Nihal de Silva–the author, wild life enthusiast and more importantly, the man

Nihal de Silva was a man of many facets; an award winning author, entrepreneur, Rotarian, keen golfer, lover of wild life and nature, parish councillor, as well as a member of various other service associations. He was indeed a remarkable man, but remained modest and unassuming.

As a cousin, my association with Nihal goes back many years to our childhood. My sister and I, though several years younger, enjoyed his company. He would entertain us with funny stories and anecdotes, which kept us in fits of laughter. His skill as a raconteur was evident even then. As a university student too, Nihal was often at our home and our close association continued into adulthood. Nihal was a groomsman at my wedding. Even though in later years we did not meet as often, he remained a dear cousin.

Having graduated in Chemistry from the University of Colombo, he first worked at Ceylon Paint Industries. Some years later, he embarked on his own, manufacturing a range of cosmetics as well as medicinal products using natural materials. Finally he launched into water purification, which developed into a successful business venture. His wife Shirlene always supported him and was closely associated in his enterprises.

Many years ago, Nihal wrote a couple of light amusing stories about incidents in his family. He then produced another short booklet on a religious theme, which greatly surprised me as he did not appear to be a religious sort of person. However, Rev. Fr. Lucian Dep, Parish Priest of St. Mary’s Church, Bambalapitiya says he was a very nice person, very popular in the parish and also very religious. As Secretary of the Parish Council of St. Mary’s Church, “Nihal has been very correct in everything and very methodical”, Fr. Dep said. “He was a great listener. He did not talk much but listened and weighed the pros and cons. When he voiced an opinion, it was accepted as the final decision by everybody.”

Nihal blossomed into a talented author in recent years. When he sent me his first novel for my views, I was most impressed and delighted. We had forgotten about his earlier literary works and had no inkling of his great talent till then. This was his first serious novel. When it was nominated for the Gratiaen Prize and won the award, and then the State Literary Award, we were proud of his success. However, he was modest about his achievements and always said that it was Vijitha Yapa who encouraged him to enter the ‘The Road from Elephant Pass’ for the award. Then on, there was no turning back. Partially retiring from Water Mart Systems which he entrusted to his two sons who had by then graduated abroad and returned, Nihal spent more time on his writing which he really enjoyed. ‘The Far Spent Day’ and ‘Ginirella Conspiracy’ followed in quick succession. He was in the midst of writing yet another novel, when he tragically lost his life.

I recall one day I suggested that he should write some children’s stories for Funday Times. I was indeed surprised and pleased when, a few months later, I received a packet containing the first eight episodes of Paduma’s World. These episodes were published weekly in the Funday Times and much enjoyed by our young readers. More episodes followed until we had a collection of some 20 entertaining stories about ten-year-old Paduma and his friends. The full collection was published under the title ‘Paduma Meets the Sunbird’, by Perera and Hussein Publishing House. I am proud to say that this book was launched at the Funday Times Avurudu Festival in April this year. That was the last time I met him.

“We at Perera and Hussein are saddened by Nihal de Silva’s tragic death,” say Ameena Hussein and Sam Perera. “We had the pleasure of publishing his latest book ‘Paduma meets the Sunbird’, that was launched just a month ago. Nihal was undoubtedly one of the nicest people we have worked with. The dedication with which he applied himself to both work and play, and the diversity of his interests won him friends who sincerely mourn his loss and decry the foul manner of his passing away. Our only consolation is that he was doing what he loved best when tragedy struck.”

The Fr. Peter Pillai Memorial Scholarship Fund was an activity very close to Nihal’s heart. “He was a Founder Member of this Fund,” said Derek Wijeratne, a Co-Founder of the Fund, golfing buddy, fellow Rotarian and close friend of Nihal. “He took a great deal of interest in this association on which he served for the last 25 years. A few of us started this fund because we were grateful to Rev. Fr. Peter Pillai for what we are today. We wanted to give back to society what we have got.” At present they are providing scholarships to 65 ongoing university students who are exceptionally clever but haven’t sufficient finances. “In addition to funding each committee member is appointed as a mentor to these students,” Derek said. “Nihal was mentor to a student who had lost his father. He kept him in his house, had him treated for diabetes. He would have lost his sight if not for Nihal’s help. He kept in touch with this student throughout the years. When he wanted to get married and the mother raised objections, it was Nihal who smoothed the way for the couple. They were married three months ago. The boy brought a letter written to him by Nihal on May 25 giving him advice.”

As President of the Rotary Club of Colombo around three years ago, Nihal’s main project was the setting up of a Cancer Detection Centre completely free of charge. As there was a delay in obtaining approvals on the land, they started the screening centre in rented space providing a valuable service to those who could not afford to pay for the screening. The staff members of the Maharagama Cancer Hospital are running the centre, which will be handed over to them when it is fully built and equipped. “Nihal was very much the driver of this project and very committed to it,” said Nirmali Samaratunga, who is the Project Coordinator.

In trying to portray Nihal, what hits us hard is that through this horrible tragedy, we have lost a great personality; one who was talented but gentle and unassuming, fun-loving but also deeply religious. He enjoyed life but also cared for those who were under- privileged. As his books show he was without any racial or religious prejudices. An ardent lover of nature, his wish was that the beauty of this land could be enjoyed by all.

Nihal de Silva is no more. He had his last round of life in the fairways of the Wilpattu National Game Park, a place he loved so much. Was there a meaning to his tragic death? Why did he have to die so cruelly and brutally? A man who had nothing to do with the ethnic conflict that has plagued us all for so long.

He was only an ordinary human being, like the rest of us; played his lousy golf and sold water and wrote brave and beautiful. Nihal won the Gratiaen Award and the State Literary Award, writing courageously about political parasites and their terminal torture of a nation and its helpless masses.

His death has no direct connection to anything ethnic or anything political. That is the absurdity of it all—Why a man gets wiped away from the face of the earth for going to look at elephants and stepping on a land mine that has been placed to demark the boundary between sanity and insanity.

Nihal was my friend, Shirlene is my friend and Shanik and Shernal are my friends. What do I tell them? I tell them the same as I would tell anyone, that Nihal de Silva was a wonderful human being who walked this planet in steps that bothered none; an adoring husband and a loving father and a wonderful friend to all.

One thing he knew well was to laugh, and he laughed and we laughed. The last time we met we went to eat ‘oppers and ‘ot curry in Nawala and talked about going to Bali to a writers’ festival in September for which we were both invited. Now there is no more Bali, no more Nihal and no more laughter for me to share with him.

Good-bye Nihal, my dear friend of the risibility we wrote and idiocy we planned to write. Sometimes I wonder whether you ever knew how much I appreciated you as an author or for that matter how much I will miss you as a friend.

Good bye ABVB – this is from BVB- the line is only for us, where ever you maybe.

The sadness swallows me and the absurdity is almost insane.
I cannot write anymore, the keyboard is wet.
Fond farewell – dear Nihal

It was about 2 p.m. last Sunday afternoon when I had a call from a colleague. "Have you heard any news about your author, Nihal de Silva," he asked anxiously. I replied that I last spoke to him about 3 weeks ago about the sales of his books in Chennai.

"Did you hear that he may have been a victim of the landmine at Wilpattu?" he said. I was shocked. "No, I had not heard," I replied and inquired from various friends including those in the press. But details of the people who were victims were not known. It was only about an hour later that a journalist comfirmed that Nihal de Silva was indeed one of the victims.

It was shattering news. Nihal de Silva, who knew Wilpattu National Park like the back of his hand, was no more. Why? Why? Why?

Suddenly those killed in the last six months were no more mere numbers in this senseless war. This time, among the victims, was Nihal, a gentle man who loved not only humanity but also the birds, the beasts, the trees and everything that was worthwhile on the earth. The man who wrote about reconciliation, of leaving aside past bitterness and hate for the sake of the future, was now a victim, his ideas and his body shattered .

Why did it happen? Did the terrorists mistake the inmates of his Landcruiser to be VIPs? Many had traversed these same paths safely a few hours earlier. Why Nihal? Or the others in the tragedy? To him a visit to a national park was not to gape and gawk at animals but a chance to learn more about the inhabitants for whom the park had been created in the first place. But even the four-legged animals that dwelt therein had rules to live by, instead of the violent, cruel acts by so called civilised man.

Ironically, the fifth book he was writing was about arms dealers becoming filthily rich at the expense of the ordinary folk who were fighting a war while politicians and leaders on both sides of the divide played games with their lives as the pawns.

He was also working on another book with Maurice Perera of Australia (author of One More Sunrise and Sudha) about the Splendours of Sri Lanka where a number of writers and photographers were to create "The definite coffee table book on Sri Lanka".

In addition, he was a man bubbling with ideas and I gave a ready ear to his many creative plots. The fact that he had written four books in four years is an indication how prolific a writer he was. I know many young and not-so-young who went to meet an author and came away inspired because he ended up encouraging them to write.

I remember vividly the first day he spoke to me in 2002. "I have written a book," he said. "What's it about?" I asked and he said it is better if he could meet me.

"Who are you? " I asked and he said he was a businessman. And what type of business? "I sell water," he said. Oh, oh. I wondered whether the book was about turning the Mahaweli to the north to water the arid peninsula.

Later I was to discover that by his own admission he was a bad golfer and a lousy angler where others always had better luck than him.

"If you can come immediately to Thimbirigasyaya I can meet you," I said but didn't bargain for him knocking on my door in ten minutes. I later discovered that he was at Sulaiman Terrace. He brought his massive manuscript. As he explained the plot, I turned the pages and realised this was a good story.

I told him to leave it overnight and see me the next day. "The plot is good, you have a nice style but one thing worries me. You talk too much about the animals and the birds," I said.

He replied, "I want them in too, because they are part of life and part of my life.” I have had my share of eccentrics in life and Nihal was obviously determined to head the list.

"OK, let's work on your book. I like to bring it out quickly and enter it for the Gratiaen Prize.” He thought I was rushing it but was excited. The rest is history.

The book jumped off the shelves and by the time the second print was due, he bagged the Gratiaen Prize.

That year the book was also chosen as the best literary work published in English and won the State Literary Prize. It is the only book which has won both awards in the same year and he was beaming when he went to get the award from President Chandrika Kumaratunga

It was also long-listed for the Dublin Impact Award, the world's richest literary prize, but did not win it. But his fame sped far and wide. The book was in demand not only locally but internationally too, including Foyles of London, the Mecca of book lovers. When the BBC wanted a writer to write a story about the tsunami to be broadcast on the anniversary of the dreadful December 26, 2004, they turned to Nihal. He chose controversial topics for his subjects. The Far Spent Day was about a fight over a girl at an international school which led to a trail of death involving politicians.

It shocked people in 2003 but recent events have shown he could see into the future and where society was heading.

The Ginirella Conspiracy begins with the ragging of students at university with a meal of Karapothu Mallung (cockroach sambol) but soon graduates into a sick plot by extremist youth to seize power. Of course Wilpattu and Yala had to be included. Describing the fauna and flora of Yala was OK as it was the base of the extremists but I said the visit to Wilpattu was of no interest to the story. He was disappointed. Finally my suggestion of using a park tracker to utter certain words which would provide the link was accepted and a compromise was reached.

In The Far Spent Day he quotes Macauley as saying, "He knew that the essence of war is violence and that moderation of war is imbecility". Nihal de Silva, the man with the gentle eyes and an eternal smile on his lips is no more.
The lover of mankind, the lover of nature, the man who believed in the eternal goodness in man as in the end of The Far Spent Day, is no more

This cruel war has robbed us of many of our national leaders and now one of Sri Lanka's best literary talent has been added to the list. If there is any conscience left in the killers who snuffed out the life of this literary Sri Lankan, let us hope it will help them to stop the carnage of innocents and find another way and seek solutions. Enough is enough. May Nihal become a symbol, a literary martyr, who helped knock sense into these senseless terrorists to whom only the rat-tat of a gun is excitement and the horrifying sound of an explosion music in their ears. If that did happen, well could the old adage be true. Nihal gave his life so that his homeland could be saved from further bloodshed and savagery. Greater love has no man than to give up his life for a friend, wrote Wilfred Owen. Nihal gave up his life, leaving us at the crossroads.

Death is a part of all our lives. Whether we like it or not, it is bound to happen. However there is a big difference, between natural death and an accidental death.

Nihal de Silva was a product of St. Joseph’s College and the University of Ceylon. After his early retirement from his own business, he returned to writing fiction, having been a keen amateur naturalist with a special interest in avifauna. He loved being close to nature.

Nihal was married to my relative Shirlene and blessed with two, smart, intelligent sons who now run their business.

When Nihal and Shirlene met my friends Professor Yasmine Gooneratne and her husband at our home some years ago-it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Writers of Yasmine’s calibre are hard to find. She was keen on meeting new Sri Lankan writers in English, and getting to know them better. Even now, she is editing Nihal’s latest book.

When I asked Nihal and Shirlene to be chief guests at my art exhibition last year in November, I never thought in my wildest dreams that his life, was so close to its end. I am so happy that I gave him all the honour due to such a rare talent. Winning awards was not something Nihal cared for. His main interest was in assisting less fortunate human beings. When Rev. Father Kuriacose spoke at Nihal’s funeral, it was from the heart and he said it all. He was a man for all seasons. Every time I met this wonderful human being at family functions, he would pick my brain as to how my creativity was progressing. I could talk to him for hours on this subject alone; he was a genuine and sincere artist. His writing was with a constant feel of real life, filled with descriptive power, all handled in a civilized manner.

In my humble opinion Nihal tried his very best to build bridges between communities.

All I can say to his wife Shirlene (my friend and relative) is that my prayer for you in this time of great sadness is ……………….in the face of such uncertainty,
believe in these two things….. You are stronger than you think, & you are not alone……….

Blue Skies. That was Nihal de Silva’s sign off line in all his emails. I did not know him too long or too well, having met him only briefly for an interview when I visited Colombo in March 2005. But the rapport was instant and I was sorry that I had not run across him all those years I lived in Sri Lanka. We kept in touch after that meeting. I hesitated to address him by his first name, and calling him Mr de Silva seemed too stuffy. He good-naturedly accepted my name for him: Birdman.

An Indian friend, a regular traveller to Colombo, had recommended his book, The Road to Elephant Pass. He gave me his copy saying I must read it. I started it off with the feeling that this too would lie with the pile of unfinished books by my bedside. But no. From the word go, it was unputdownable, as the cliché goes. When I told Birdman this at my meeting with him, he was overcome by shyness for a few seconds, and then mumbled something to the effect that even he was quite surprised by its success. He said before this, he had never imagined he could write a novel. He wrote only because he had a lot of time on his hands after he retired, and he did not want to irritate his wife by hanging around the house doing nothing. He had absolutely no airs and no pretensions. But he won me over even before he said all this with the small courtesy of offering to pour the tea.

Birdman talked about his book, which was one of both tragedy and hope, and of how the conflict had ruined such a beautiful country. He despaired that his children had no Tamil friends of their own, except the ones that had lasted from their parents’ generation. And he talked about his passion for Sri Lanka’s birds, its animals and its forests. He told me how much he loved Wilpattu, how he used to go camping there with friends back in the 1960s, how the war had made it a no-go area for so many years and how it was beginning to open up to tourists after the ceasefire. Those who have read the book know that The Road to Elephant Pass is part guide to Wilpattu and its flora and fauna.What kind of cruel design is this that a man who was hopeful of peace returning to his country in his lifetime, becomes instead an accidental victim of the war, in the one place in Sri Lanka that he was passionate about and knew like the back of his palm, while doing what he loved most.

As we sat talking at the Colombo Swimming Club, he suddenly turned the tables, saying if I was done with my questions, could he ask me a few. Sure, I said, not knowing exactly what was coming. He wanted to know what made me choose journalism as a career, how I built my stories, how I made contacts etc etc. Why are you asking me all this, I finally had to ask him. Oh, I am trying to get into the skin of a journalist for my third book, he said.

As soon as his interview appeared in The Hindu Literary Supplement, he called to thank me, and soon after, followed it up with an email. We set up a regular if infrequent communication after that. His emails were short and funny, usually about something he had seen or somewhere he had been.

At our meeting, he had given me a copy of A Far Spent Day, and asked me to write back to him with feedback. I read it only after three or four months, and when I wrote him a kind of review, he said he was relieved to see it despite the critical comments in it. From my silence – I had not responded to a couple of his emails -- he thought I had read the book, not liked it, and was therefore avoiding writing to him.

I last communicated with him just before moving to Islamabad in the second week of May to take up my posting here, promising to send him my new co-ordinates soon as I reached here. He emailed me back saying he was sure I would do well. At the end, the usual Blue Skies. Birdman, I will miss you. But wherever you are, here’s wishing you Blue Skies too.