Appreciations

Sister Maude A.C. was a loved sister in the Congregation of the Apostolic Carmel for 59 years. She hailed from Dehiwela and was known as Dorothy Hopman. She completed her God given 82 years on this earth walking with us as a true Carmelite nun. We miss her very much today.

Deeply prayerful and steeped in Carmelite spirituality, she was a true daughter of the church. Sister Maude who faced the reality of religious life not only in Sri Lanka but also in India was a source of inspiration and strength to one and all. She was equally a good teacher, superior and administrator, as well as an exemplary religious Mother, at ease with prayer book and pen as with brush and broom. Entrusted with the responsibility of Major Superior, Sister Maude strove untiringly to raise the standard of religious life in Sri Lanka, playing a leading role with prayer and example, inspiring and challenging us to aim high, to take risks and be interested in events and people. She always reminded us that the responsibility of our actions was ultimately ours. While being a person of deep prayer she was utterly humane. Everyone was a recipient of her kindness and concern.

In the capacity of a Major Superior, she had close links with the Church in Sri Lanka, and actively participated at AMOR meetings and the activities of the Centre for Society and Religion. She gave full cooperation to the inter faith dialogue.

The parish community was as much her concern as the religious community. As Principal at Badulla, Bandarawela and Ampitiya, Sister Maude was loved and appreciated by teachers, students and parents. Care of the poor, the needy and the handicapped was her forte. The plight of the sick, the unwanted, the oppressed had a special place in her heart – it was large enough to embrace them all. For her, all differences of rank, race, colour, religion and gender melted away and all appeals to her heart were met with equal concern and compassion.

Her valiant service to the congregation, parish church and society extended to the very end. Her death came suddenly after a brief illness which took us all by surprise. A multitude of friends from all walks of life flocked to the chapel of Carmel Convent, Borella where she lay in a garden of wreaths and bouquets, beautiful in death. Verily was her going home a celebration of love, as was her entire life.

Charisma combined with loyalty, efficiency and honesty are rare achievements for any individual. However, these characteristics were inborn in Tyrone and formed an integral part of his life and made him what he was, an indefatigable and omniscient, yet amiable driving force. He was many things to different people- to his wife - a loving husband, to his daughters - a caring father, to his friends and peers - an amiable buddy, to his employer - a conscientious worker and to me.. assistant, colleague and more so, a friend par excellence.

After his education at St. Joseph’s College, Maradana, he embarked on a successful plantation career. He was a General Manager at the time of his demise. Even on the day of his untimely death his concern for his staff and workers was abundantly evident.

He first joined the company taking over Glasgow Estate and soon turned into one of the best units. His pioneering efforts included obtaining ISO status for that factory and thereafter HACCP status for Balmoral, the estate. However, being the humble man that he was he rarely took credit for a stupendous job so meticulously accomplished. He was a believer in “Nil Nisi Optima” or nothing but the best, when it came to his duties. Tall in stature and blessed with a dynamic personality, it was no surprise that he was a respected figure in the sector. He was the past Chairman of the Planters’ Association of Ceylon of the Nuwara Eliya District and came to the assistance of many estates in their hour of need. Lack of space, unfortunately limits me from listing his multitude of accomplishments both in the sphere of employment as well as in the social sector. A devout Catholic - he rarely missed Sunday mass.

He will be sadly missed by his ever - loving wife Chrysanthi, his daughters Trehana and Chiara, friends, relatives and colleagues. May their beliefs help them to console themselves and move on with their lives remembering what Tyrone stood for in his short life of two score plus seven years.

Words do not suffice to express our feelings. In moments such as this, such emotions can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart. “His life was gentle; and the elements so mix’d in him that Nature might stand up and say to all the world, ‘This was a man!’”
May the turf lie gently on him.

To see a close friend of over 50 years depart is sorrowful. My good friend Muhandiramlagegedara Abdul Latif Mohamad Haleem passed away on August 22 this year and the funeral rites were performed on the same day as per the Muslim custom. He was 78 years.

What is poignant is that only a couple of days earlier he had phoned me and wanted me to visit him. Although looking frail and weighed down with illness he talked to me in his usual convivial mood and his family members also joined us in friendly conversation. There wasn’t the least indication that it would be the last time we would be seeing each other, but three days later he was dead.

I met Haleem for the first time on July 15, 1953 to be exact when he came to assume duties at the Nuwara Eliya Municipal Council on his passing the Government Clerical Service Examination. I was then employed in that office. His main problem was to find a place to board. I straighatway took him to my place which was run by a widowed Malay lady assisted by two of her daughters. They were more than happy to accommodate the young and personable Haleem who was of their own faith.

To write about my friend is a long journey down memory lane. Young and ebullient, our stay at Nuwara Eliya was the most eventful period of our lives. Practically every evening it was the Public Services Club where public servants of the town mixed and enjoyed themselves in the evenings.

Here, we tried our hands at all the recreation facilities available - table tennis, lawn tennis, cards and occasionally a ‘foxtrot’ with a fair partner to the beat of music from the Radiogram which was then a prized possession in a Club or an affluent home.

There were singsongs and Halim had a repertoire of some popular Sinhala songs of that era and would sing them melodiously, making every one listen in amazement to a Muslim youth singing Sinhala songs so beautifully.

When the time came for my marriage, it was Haleem who accompanied me on my maiden visit to see the proposed and finally he was best-man at the wedding, considered a departure from the orthodox practice of having a person of your own community to take that intimate position.

His wife was his greatest asset. He found in her a true life companion - an embodiment of all the finest qualities of Muslim womanhood - his friend, philosopher and guide who with resourcefulness and endurance shouldered all the burdens with good cheer and cared for him with dedication till the last.

The coffin was closed. The Crematorium lights were lit. Flames from the burning embers puffed out smoke from the chimneys. Three months have passed. Bana was preached and alms were given to the monks. Friends gathered and departed leaving Rohini and Pulasthi alone.

The lone struggle he carried out against what he believed to be wrong disappeared. He was convinced that during his lifetime he would create a society in which his friends, of all communities would live in peace and harmony and without acrimony. Has this dream been doomed?

Suranjith was my friend. Was he my best friend or one of my best friends? I do not know. If these clichés were true, why did we part ways? His sense of justice and fair-play was different to mine. His sense of hopelessness over the system dear to him, was it a manifestation of other ideas or agendas of others, I queried. Or we simply could not agree on our methodology. Disagreement leads to ennui, disillusion, and separation.

He told me that I was a supporter of a corrupt system. I should be responsible for its ultimate demise not its proliferation he argued. Very soon people will only read law books to find out what justice was. Justice is history he lamented. I disagreed. I too was fighting corruption in many ways. If someone does not take action, the entire system would be corrupt. So I am helping the authorities to weed out corruption from the system dear to me. He grinned. His countenance said it all. I have become a partner and a defender of a system that is oozing with corrupt, unjust people. Can corruption root out corruption he mused, cynicism writ over it? Who is correct? Only the future would tell.

"I may not live long. I cannot stand the way this system is being corrupted. I will fight it to my dying day. I may be charged, convicted and sent to jail for fighting injustice, but I will not stop fighting.” He was fighting a losing battle. The whole society was corrupt. Corruption has become an inalienable facet of our culture. Honesty is frowned upon, truth is diluted, falsehood enshrined, crime preserved and protected, rights abused. We become a part and parcel of this cancerous system which is eating into the body politic. Who cares? Suranjith cared. He appeared and defended Victor Ivan, when indictment after indictment was filed against him. Ultimately, like almost after a million years, the truth triumphed, in the new millennium. Criminal defamation laws were repealed from the statute book. This was one achievement of Suranjith's indefatigable struggle against the curtailment of the freedom of expression.

We parted ways as I, in some instances, did not agree with him. It was too much for him. He always thought he was correct and I was wrong. 'One day when I am dead and gone you will realize how wrong you were in this struggle to cleanse the system.' This question will always worry me and continue to trouble my consciousness. I remember what my teacher told me – “Hemantha the search for truth and justice is a constant struggle. You should never compromise your perception of truth or sense of justice, though it may be the bitterest pill to swallow, or it may be the most arduous route to take. Swallow it with relish and take it with vigour. It is your duty to lead others through this correct path. Remember, truth survives at the end.” I still do not know who was correct and who was wrong, in fighting the system from inside or outside.

Your death brought me close to you and your family again. I am relieved to know what Rohini told me when you were gasping for the last breath. Pulasthi your son, held Rohini's hand and told her "let him go ammi let him go peacefully leaving this dreadful world. After all, throughout his life he gave his utmost love and devotion to us. He was the kindest father I knew”.

Suranjith, it may console you to know that at least there is another one to carry on your mission for justice, human rights; minority rights; fair play; freedom to speak and write and to rid this society of corruption.

“Pulasthi Hewamanna, it’s over to you. You have for the sake of our future generation undertaken to fulfill your father’s mission.”

He was truly a great man.

As we remembered Charmina Marlene’s birthday on September 21, we also remember the beautiful and unique lady she was.

Many of her family members and friends remember her for many different things. Her school friends will no doubt remember her stunning performance as a sixteen year old, as Damayanthi in the romantic play “Nala saha Damayanthi”. And many family members and friends still remember her as a leading model, who graced the fashion pages of the 1960s.

Charmina, my aunt, was also a writer, cook par excellence and lover of the creative and unique. She always combined elements of nature and was original in her creations, be it the fashionable clothes she wore, her interior décor or in her writing. One remembers with amusement her passion for plants and the way in which she would potter around the garden talking to them.

Her wonderful frog-collection was even more intriguing as she had every conceivable ‘froggie ornament’ – in bathtubs, on a throne and they seemed to be ‘alive’ everywhere in her home waiting to spring at you.

Her sense of humour was wonderful and she loved to play pranks on the senior members of the family with us children. She loved to go to the beach with us or allow us to enjoy the beauty of her garden without restrictions. I remember my brother and I having a wonderful time in her fish pond when we were kids.

One great aspect of her that all of us admired, was her sense of fashion, and the use of colour and jewellery, most often traditional, when she dressed up for a function.

She also loved to write and had a collection of poetry and short stories which made an interesting read!

Charmina was many things to many people – daughter, mother, sister, sister-in-law, aunt and friend. She was also the ‘mother’ to many cats and dogs.

To my brother and I, and to many youngsters she was our ‘Bubbo Amma’. The` most precious person in her life was her only son Cuda. Her mother Princess, brother Seneca and entire family miss her unique personality.

Darling Bubbie, we remember you with affection not only on your birthday but every day!