Dr. Vasantha Unantenne’s popularity as a veterinary surgeon was virtually synonymous with the rise of Nugegoda as a commercial hub and a key link town of Colombo.
With the dawn of economic liberalisation in the late 1970s, Sri Lanka began to experience rapid changes. There were growing opportunities everywhere for economic advancement.
The development of Kotte and its environs in the 1980s had a favourable impact on neighbouring areas, especially towns like Nugegoda, with its reach and accessibility. On the one hand, commerce began to expand, and on the other there was a steep rise in population.
Economic advancement means social change, and the lifestyles of the rising middle class evolved along with the social changes. The new lifestyles included, among other things, a heightened interest in pets – more precisely, in the rearing of dogs of different breeds.
Into this picture of societal transformation entered Vasantha, who located himself at the centre of a dynamic town. And what a success he made of his career. There were also significant personal attributes that helped him. He was friendly and outgoing. He had a passion for life and an uncanny knack for relating to people. More important, Vasantha was a consummate communicator.
Life and career, however, have twists and turns that are not brought about by cosmic alterations and transfigurations. They are more often of man’s own making, however strange and inexplicable they may appear to be.
The Japanese have a simple saying: “Life is what you make of it’.
When Jayanthi and I learnt of Vasantha’s death, we were greatly saddened. We recalled those effervescent years of our association with Vasantha.
Vasantha’s life bore a curious parallel to that of another departed friend, Vasantha Karaliyadde. Physically very different – one was rotund, the other pencil slim – they both hailed from excellent families in Kandy. Both left the hallowed portals of the same great educational institution in Kandy around the same time. Both became professionals, though in different disciplines. Both were knowledgeable in their own way, and both were humorists par excellence.
Vasantha Unantenne’s practice also gained from his ability as a diagnostician. With great accuracy he would identify a disease, and he would never consciously prolong the treatment of a pet.
In the early years of his practice in Nugegoda, we would do our weekend marketing together, and such occasions included a meal at his house. Though we intended to take lunch, it was more like supper that we finally sat down to, the meal punctuated by loud laughter.
Vasantha then was a quintessential foodie, and this was perhaps inimical to him in later years.
Economic growth has another side. Although Vasantha, like many other professionals, along with trades and businesses, gained from Nugegoda’s growth, it was that very growth and the invasive urban spread it entailed that made him relocate.
Vasantha moved down High Level road to a three-storeyed building with ample parking space, although on the main road. Despite personal problems, he continued to enjoy a lucrative practice. He also retained his special charm and allure.
My family remembers with joy the many trips we made down to Delkanda, along with the dogs, moaning and howling alternatively.
A man for all seasons, fair or foul weather, Vasantha never lost his form as a humorist. It was good fun to be in his company.
In his last years, Vasantha was a virtual recluse. But he made the annual trek to watch the Bradby, school rugby’s most anticipated event.
I cannot help noting the striking similarity in the two Vasanthas awaiting the inevitable.
Jayanthi joins me in offering a silent prayer for Vasantha – for his life and his work.
Jagath Savanadasa |