Thaththa had many outstanding characteristics about which much has been said from time to time – his integrity, patience, gentleness, caring, self-control, self-discipline, leadership….the list could go on. While they were revealed to us as children in our everyday experiences of growing up, I also saw them in a new light in his later years of retirement when I visited him from Kandy.
His style of leadership was to encourage the best in others, while he took a backseat. I would call this ‘selflessness’, and it is exemplified by the fact that he left the computer solely for Amma’s use while he himself stuck to the typewriter. This was mainly because he thought his slowness in getting used to the computer would deprive Amma of the computer time she needed. This selflessness went hand in hand with his concern for, and discernment of, others’ needs. Those who constituted the recipients of this concern extended beyond his children and grandchildren to the wider circle of relatives and friends, as well as the stranger, the deprived, and the powerless.
His ability to plan was legendary. At the age of 80, he combined this planning with self-discipline in preparing for his final exam for the postgraduate diploma in Buddhism. Given that the exam schedule intruded into his usual time of rest, he trained his body to fit into a different routine, so that he would be able to write the exam without too much discomfort.
In Kandy, I had picked up allusions to him being a ‘terror’ in his running of the Lake House Bookshop, from two former employees who had received their training there. They mentioned it in a spirit of gratitude for all that they had learned from him, with the proof being their current careers in bookshops – one as proprietor and the other as branch manager of a well-known chain.
However, being a ‘terror’ was not something I attributed to Thaththa! But I kept an open mind, and had my own resolution of this apparent incongruence in his character when I observed how he dealt with those who came to carry out repairs to No. 10. His approach was to question their suggested methods, thereby ensuring that they thought through their intentions and foresaw possible stumbling blocks in advance. His critical appraisal almost portrayed a disbelief in their statements, but the end-result was a cost-effective job of good quality. Perhaps other employers of these workers benefited unknowingly from the ‘training’ he provided free of charge to the latter!
Thaththa remained alert to the end. The last time we saw him alive at No.10 was when Ashi and I arrived there a little prior to his being taken to hospital. He was lying on his bed weak, with his eyes closed. But as we went in, he opened his eyes, saw Ashi and queried whether she was attending a workshop in Colombo. This kind of alertness is hard for some of us to possess at the age we are in now.
On reflection, what is amazing is the balance (of qualities) he kept in every sphere of life. This allowed him to influence a large group of people in a far-reaching and positive way; one that would enable them to influence others. Many a time in the face of a quandary there flashes to my mind the WWTD principle: ‘What Would Thaththa Do?’ While such a thought would not necessarily propel me to follow his example, it provides me with a framework, or benchmark to analyze my own actions.
When I reflect on his life, I realize he is all around us; in the stars that light up the night sky, in the wind that cools and refreshes, in the sunset that turns the sky to pink and orange and red. We are grateful for the privilege of being called his children, for being able to grow up in the nurture provided by the unique team of Thaththa and Amma. We will keep on falling; but our memories inspire us to rise up again and reach for the sky.
Ranil |
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