Appreciations

Ranjit Sri Nissanka departed this world lonely and unsung in early July. It was sad to think that Ranjit, who was the toast of the Rugger Clubs in the 1960s, led a lonely reclusive life in his last years. For over a year, he was in a hospital with only an occasional visitor and very much confined to his bed as his one-time sturdy rugger legs could no longer support his yet sturdy frame.

On my visits to him, though lamentably infrequent, he did not moan and groan but accepted his condition with a quiet stoicism.
Ranjit was a charismatic person in his heyday and when he used to reminisce at “Yamuna” he spared no details. He used to enjoy all the good things in life, particularly in his rumbustious youth. On Royal-Thomian days I remember how his father’s old Riley car was packed with his flag -waving buddies who hero-worshipped him.

Ranjit related an incident which exemplified the nature of the man. His philosophy was “I don’t mess with you and don’t mess with me”. During a religious festival in Ranjit’s youthful days, an over-zealous policeman needled him and Ranjit responded in characteristic style and ended up in the Bambalapitiya Police Station.

The Inspector getting to know that the young man in his charge was the son of the redoubtable criminal lawyer, H. Sri Nissanka, K.C. telephoned the formidable father with some trepidation! The father’s laconic reply was – “good, keep him there.”
Notwithstanding this experience, Ranjit had some close Police buddies like Muni Gomes and Sivendran of Rugger playing fame. His other close friends were Jim Amerasinghe, an experienced yachtsman and senior planter and Mahen Dayananda of Tea Tang. My association with Ranjit goes back over 45 years when he worked as a budding Tea Taster for the well known Dutch tea firm, Van Rees, which then operated within Mackwoods where I was a fledgling Executive in the early 60’s. Ranjit cut a smart figure, immaculately attired in his trademark white shorts, white shirt and knee high white stockings.

There were many facets to his unorthodox personality. He felt strongly for the less privileged in his workplace or on his coconut estate in Potuhera (Kurunegala). He addressed them as Malli, Nangi, Seeya etc., and was solicitous of their various needs.
His death was sad. It was a brief, tearful goodbye to a generous and solid friend who belonged to a rare breed of men.

Remembering a man of great vitality