Tributes

• Lalith the humanist

• Prof. Kamal Karunanayake - a living example

• Tribute to Cholomondeley

• A great and brave journalist

• Tomorrow will never come for Ajith

• Master, Sir... there's a void at Friday

• Loss of a colossus

   

Lalith the humanist

Had his life not been snatched by political conspirators, Lalith would have been 70 years today (Nov 26th 2006). It is with respect and honour I pen these few lines to recall the memories of his humanitarian attitudes.

The first anniversary of Mahapola was held on January 02 1981 at Bindunuwewa Teacher Training College grounds, Bandarawela. The Chief Guest of the day was the then President the late J. R. Jayawardene. The main ceremony commenced under heavy rains. At the end of the ceremony VIPs left the venue. With a chilly breeze and incessant rain a sudden power failure put one section of Mahapola in to darkness. In these circumstances some of the stallholders put down their shutters and called it a day.

The officers concerned brought this to the notice of the Minister Lalith Atulathmudali. Within a moment he arrived at the Mahapola site and was very unhappy when he found that some exhibition stalls have been closed. He immediately got them re-opened. He sat at the Mahapola office and summoned an emergency meeting of all officers concerned. As usual everybody was trying to find a scapegoat to save their skins. Finally blame was put on the electrical staff of the Sri Lanka Ports Authority. But Lalith had a broader outlook. He did not want to encourage anybody to make any accusations or allegations against the SLPA staff. But he insisted that the power should be restored in the Mahapola without andy delay. Within an hour power supply was restored. Colourful glittering light once again illuminated the entire Mahapola. Lalith had a broad smile on his face. Before he left Mahapola re requested the SLPA officer concerned to see him his office in Colombo, on the following Monday.

I observed that the officer was bit worried and he was in a very pensive mood thinking what would be fall on him after the weekend. On the following Monday Minister Lalith had given us an appointment at 5.00 p.m. in the evening to see him in his office. I on the advise of then Chairman of the SLPA, Wimal Amarasekara had to accompany the officer to the Ministry.

Two of us were at the Ministry office on time. Initially we were served with tea. The officer who is a Tamil rather worried thinking there would be some manipulations by the interested parties to fix him. As the started to explain the reasons for the power failure Lalith stopped him "Mr........... Don't worry you had done a good job. Forget that ordeal, now you are my good friend, thank you. Also do not have any fear in you. If you have any problem my doors are open to you." These words of Lalith greatly relieved that poor officer. As we came out of the office he raised his hands up and said. "He is a Jewel of a man". That was Lalith the humanist.

It was again an incident took place at a Mahapola in an electorate in the Gampaha District. Being the last day of MahaPola, Lalith was to arrive as the Chief Guest of the day.

On that particular day LTTE cadres had attacked an Army detachment in the north killing 6 soldiers and wounding a few soldiers and civilians. Lalith gave a radio message to MahaPola office and instructed to cancel to procession planned to escort the Chief Guest and the VIPs and the musical programme planned for the night. MP of the area was very unhappy about this decision but Lalith a humanist to the letter set a fine example.

The writer had a personal experience in working closely with this amiable and understanding leader. At a ceremony in Galle Harbour due to an oversight I had included the vote of thanks in the days programms. Lalith's position had been that the programme should be concluded with his speech, as he preferred the gathering to leave the venue with the message given in his speech.

Whilst the vote of thanks was being delivered, Lalith summoned me and questioned as to how I had included the vote of thanks in the agenda. Having realized my mistake I apologized and informed him that working under pressure it was a lapse on my part. He very politely cautioned me not repeat such lapses in the future. That was Lalith the gentleman and humanitarian politician.

I can quote a number of such incidents in this note. But as I do not wish to usurp the valuable space in your esteemed journal. I end this article paying my tributes to this humanist on his birthday.

- A. Godwin De Alwis

Prof. Kamal Karunanayake - a living example

In economics, it is generally considered that the scarce resources are best allocated among alternative uses through the market mechanism, where the needs of the people are represented by the demand. However, the needs of the economically deprived segments of the society are not represented in the market, because those poor people do not have the purchasing power to convert their needs into "demand", the language understood in the market. Therefore, a kind heart and a deep sense of belongingness to the society are needed, more than the knowledge in market mechanism, for an economist to feel the pain and to understand the plight of these resource-deprived segments of the society. With the demise of Professor Kamal Karunanayake, Sri Lanka has lost such a skilful and kind hearted economist.

In Prof. Karunanayake was an exceptionally kind person. He was always willing to help people. People's problems were always his problems. Quite often he went out of the way to help people, particularly his colleagues and staff. Most of us have personal experience where he put more effort than us in trying to find relief for us.We have never been Prof. Karunanayake's students in the university. But, there is no doubt that thousands who practically studied under him should be very fortunate, and they would vouch for that fact. He has always been ready to advise and help the undergraduates and guide them through their post-graduate research work.

Even for us, who never studied directly under him, each and every meeting with him was a learning experience, not only in substantive aspects of economics, but also in many other disciplines. Prof. Karunanayake has been one of the most illustrious economists this country has ever produced.

He has served the academic community for nearly 40 years, starting his career as an Assistant Lecturer in Economics at the Vidyalankara University (presently the University of Kelaniya) in 1963, and retiring as the Professor of Economics and the Director of the Centre for Development Studies of the University of Kelaniya in 2002. Prof. Karunanayake has also served intermittently at various governmental and foreign organisations including the Postgraduate Institute of Management, the World Bank project on Urban Local Authorities, Institute of Social and Economic Studies and the Ahmadu Bello University in Nigeria.

He also has served as the Registrar of the University of Sri Lanka in the late seventies, when all university campuses in the country were administered under a single University. He was also a politician, who served the nation as a Member of parliament from 1989 to 1994. Since November 2006, he has been serving as the Senior Presidential Advisor in Economics. With this wide-spread experience and the in-depth knowledge in Economics, Professor Karunanayake was an invaluable asset to a developing country like ours, particulary in national policy formulation, where policy debates need to be founded on sound professional knowledge and deep understanding of ground realities. In this context, Prof. Karunanayake has left us at a time the country needs his services more than ever.

Now that we have lost Prof. Karunanayake, the greatest respect we could pay to his name is to ensure that the direction he envisioned for this country is truly and sincerely followed.

May he attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana !

Lalithasiri Gunaruwan, Senior Lecturer (Economics), University of Colombo

Tribute to Cholomondeley

The friendly and unassuming man who traversed the path of robust and rugged politics, Cholomondeley Goonewardene, the LSSP stalwart passed away yesterday at the age of 89.

This longest living politician from the first parliament of 1947 was a firebrand in politics. Educated at Holy Cross College, Kalutara and S.Thomas’ College, Mt.Lavinia he represented the Kalutara electorate throughout his political journey that spanned nearly five decades.Hailing from a Muhandiram Mansion known as the 'Burlington Home' to engage himself in humdrum local politics, he was the Minister of Communications in 1964. Inspired by the Russian revolution as a youth,the Indian Independence struggle and the vibrant speeches of S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, Goonewardene almost gave up a lucrative legal practice to give leadership to the downtrodden masses. This apostle of the common man dedicated his life to serve the people in keeping with his convictions breaking away from his tradition and aristocratic family background.

His enthusiasm for hard work and the high sense of devotion to the cause he stood made him a clever and astute politician. Kalutara youth rallied round the LSSP at that time mainly due to his charming personality and genial disposition.

In the final years of his political journey,he played a key role in the activities of the Sri Lanka Mahajana Party. Cholomondeley Goonewardene, the LSSP comrade in politics will be long remembered for his valuable services rendered to the people.

Prasad Gunewardene

A great and brave journalist

Ajith Samaranayake achieved much in journalism-perhaps more than any journalist of his generation from the time he came into the profession in the mid seventies till his sad and untimely end. He could have achieved much more had he wanted to do so or had he lived longer even with his natural and casual approach to life.

Ajith, no doubt, was a rebel and radical from his youth. Even though his father a well known lawyer in Kandy was a staunch UNPer, Ajith was with the left, the Lanka Sama Samaja Party, soon after leaving school. He commenced his journalism early, in the now defunct Nation edited by the leading Trotskyite of the day, Hector Abeywardene, the leading theoretician of the party.

After a short stint at the Nation he joined Lake House as a journalist of the Ceylon Observer as it was then known. It was a period of radical transformation in Lake House, the 'Bastion of Reaction' as the leftists loved to call it before its 'broadbasing' by Prime Minister Sirima Bandaranaike. The government appointed loyalists of Sirima Bandaranaike were at the controls of the management but the journalists by and large were those who had served the private management of the Wijewardene's and were professionals in their outlook. Young Samaranayake faced no problems at the Sunday Observer because he was no propagandist or political campaigner. The Old Trinitian was accepted by the journalist fraternity and within months flowered out as a writer on varied subjects.

He displayed an amazing grasp of politics and his literary and, film and drama criticisms were outstanding. His descriptive writing pieces were hailed by his editors. Soon he came to be known as a very good lobby columnist. During the first few years his output was prolific but with time his writings became less frequent. A feature which I noticed about him was that he could not be pushed around or yearned into writing to please others. He accepted assignments on specific subjects but what he wrote were his thoughts and observations. Not long after his entry into journalism old timers in the profession were placing him in the genre of Regi Siriwardene the outstanding journalist who left for academia in the sixties.

Perhaps, he may have been a disappointment to some of the political commissars of Lake House at that time and even to the management of the private establishment he once worked for, but that was his style. When The Island commenced publication in 1981, Ajith crossed-over and turned out to be a mainstay of the paper he wrote many memorable essays such as on Upali Wijewardene which is still preserved by that paper. After the '83 riots he focused intensely on the plight of the Tamil people and wrote passionately on the subject till the time of his death. He championed the cause of the underdog on many issues. A lesser known contribution to journalism was that it was Ajith who introduced D.B.S. Jeyaraj to English language journalism. He met Jeyaraj who was the Virakesarai Correspondent in Jaffna on an assignment and brought him down to Colombo and made Jeyaraj join The Island newspaper.

Another remarkable feature about him was that he could write and speak equally well in both Sinhalese and English although his writings in Sinhala were limited. He delved into Sinhala literature and culture and associated closely with those like Chitrasena, Ediriweera Sarathchandra and Gunadasa Amarasekera. Unlike most journalists who work for English language newspapers, Ajith had friends in sister publications. One of his close associates was Dayasena Gunasinghe, the award winning Sinhala poet.

To most observers, Ajith was a Bohemian who lived in the world of journalism but he did show much concern for his wife Mano whom he met while both of them were covering parliament-she for the now defunct Sun and he for the Observer. A quality little known about this quiet unobtrusive man is that he was a man of principles. He dared to challenge persons, however powerful they might have been if he felt an injustice was being done. I have seen him storm out of management meetings knowing well that he was risking his career.

Once when an editor of The Island was struck down with a viral disease and was in an intensive care unit for months a powerful managerial bureaucrat who had wanted the editor out had at an editorial meeting and asked for proposals to 're-organise' the department. It was apparent that a carrot was being thrown at Ajith who was the deputy editor. But Ajith refused to bite. Instead he had protested vehemently pointing out that if any re-organisation had to be done, it should be considered only on the return of the editor and with the backing of other journalists carried the day.

Even though we were colleagues and good friends for over thirty years, we did cross-swords openly and in print. But such differences of opinion did not hinder our relationship. During my last scrap as an editor, I was surprised to receive a call from my friend Ajith who had not communicated with me for sometime. 'Don't give in. These people can't ride rough shod over us' was his advice.

Journalism has lost an outstanding journalist, a gentleman and a man of principles.

- Gamini Weerakoon

Tomorrow will never come for Ajith

Back in May when we sat together as a team, preparing the launch edition of 'friday' we never envisaged we would, in less than seven months, sit around the same table shedding tears of sorrow, moaning the loss of a man who was so much a part of us, not so much as an editor, but mentor, friend and fellow 'friday' team member. But there we were on that awful Wednesday morning, trying to grasp the shattering reality of loss... of a man, nay a giant, who though unshakable in his convictions about right and wrong and journalistic freedom, trod this earth ever so gently as only a gentle man can do.

And he was both a gentle man and a gentleman. His friends ranged from the humble driver of his office vehicle to university students who came to him for guidance and big wigs in the high echelon of power, but he wasn't one to boast about his friends in high places or even use that friendship for personal gains.

He was his own man. A simple man. He was simply 'Ajith'. And at 'friday' just one of us, sharing the battle to see things from an editorial perspective; working through the night, bleary-eyed and drooping with fatigue to overcome teething problems and meet what seemed like impossible deadlines, laughing at the juvenile antics of the junior team members; rejoicing in finally getting our act together to defeat that monster called deadline.

In terms of protocol, Ajith was the editor of 'friday'. And if the masthead, for reasons of style and to give the tabloid a touch of informality didn't have a capital 'F', the editor, by dint of preference, refused to isolate himself in the editor's cubicle, preferring to sit at the long table also for the same reason. The juniors called him 'Sir' out of respect for the man he was and the position he occupied, but one could almost see him gritting his teeth, every time he responded. But he was too much of a gentleman to chastise them.

He was foremost a writer, who'd rather put pen to paper and have his thought flow freely in beautifully constructed sentences that could hold the readers enchanted, even when it was a simple appreciation.

Ajith introduced his popular 'Time and Tide' column to 'friday' starting with the legacy of S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike and the SLFP for the launch issue, following it up with his take on Evans Cooray's opus on late President R. Premadasa and more recently, a serialised essay on Professor Ravindra Fernando's 'A murder in Ceylon', which he called 'Subaltern History' and which sadly will never be concluded. He also took great pleasure in his columns 'Passing Parade' and 'Press Cuttings' where he took turns giving insightful comments and criticism on the shenanigans of men and mice, both in the political and media world, which unfortunately never brought him the response he anticipated.

His contributions made 'friday' all the more richer. Ajith was in a sense of renaissance man who refused the convenience of 21st century convenience. He disregarded mobile phones as an unnecessary inconvenience and never learnt to use the computer. In the absence of a typewriter, which he used with amazing two-finger dexterity, he wrote all his copies by hand in fat rounded letters that almost looked childish and innocent. But then it wasn't how he wrote that mattered, but what he wrote. And that was often potent stuff, especially the editorials, which though succinct, packed a powerful punch. He was a storehouse of knowledge rattling names, dates, events both significant and inconsequential with unerring certainty and never once have we seen him use a dictionary to check a meaning or the spelling of an unusual word.

Ajith was a lot of things of lot of people: an iconic figure in English language journalism, a political observer with a phenomenal grasp of contemporary events and recent history, founder member of the Free Media Movement and so much more. But to the 'friday' staff he was always friend and mentor.

'friday', probably because of the small team, evolved more into what could be called a 'close knit unit', and perhaps because of this, the team was big on celebrating birthdays. Ajith enjoyed the cakes and Kodak moments, and in an indication just how much he valued the team spirit chose to celebrate, what turned out to be his last birthday, with the 'friday' team.

Death many say is a process of life that has to be accepted as much as one accepts life.

So Ajith, sad as it is, we are forced bid you an untimely goodbye and hope your journey takes you to a better world.

- Hana Ibrahim

Master, Sir... there's a void at Friday

It was last August 10. We, the friday staff learnt from a very reliable source that it was the editor's birthday.

We did not have much time to get ready. Only a few minutes were left before the birthday boy arrived. But we wanted to celebrate it with a cake and give him a present. We still managed to pool some funds for a gift and rope in 'Sunday Observer' cartoonist, Jagath Punchihewa to do a caricature.

The birthday boy entered the tiny friday Editorial and we all sang 'Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you...", much to his embarrassment. But, to our surprise he bought a cake and also lunch in order to celebrate this day with us. (As far as we know he never celebrated his birthday in this manner before. Perhaps it could have been a premonition that he would not be with us the next year.)

Shy and chuckling in his inimitable style, our birthday boy cut the little cake. He was thrilled when we gave him Puncha's caricature and also promised to frame it.

Our editor, Ajith Samaranayake, who was very close to the handful of staff of the friday Editorial, was an honour to the friday. We personally know how people were happy to read his articles in the friday, where he started to write after an interval.

Samaranayake, my dear editor, when I joined the 'Sunday Observer', was not a dominating editor. Every morning he entered the room with his innocent smile. He may be a literai giant in the world of journalism but was not so much of a 'giant' to many people. He was a friend for many ordinary people. Being a veteran journalist, he was the humble 'Ajith Aiya' to many young journalists who came in search of him for advice or when they were in trouble.

One day, he happily said how he toured around the 'Bere Gedara' as a schoolboy, who came all the way from Kandy in a Leyland bus under the banner 'Pasal Charika'. This journey motivated him to take to journalism, he said.

At times Samaranayake was silent when injustice reigned in a dreadful way. He was helpless. But he spoke against such evil. There was nothing he would do. So he kept silent and talked to himself in anger.

"I am getting lots of books written in Sinhala. So this is the time for it and I want to start writing a column in Sinhala, he said in a moving tone.

Perhaps this would have been his last wish.

None can predict anything but it says that some people smell their last days. This may be truth with Samaranayake too. One and half weeks ago, he requested all of us to help him to put the friday paper out. "Oyala math ekka innawa neda. Mee sare vitharak mata udau karanne" (Please help me. Help me this only time). His last request was more or less an innocent plea.

Last Tuesday, Samaranayake entered the Editorial silently... sat for few minutes with eyes closed. Tears rolled down, until somebody inquired about the shocking incident on the murder of his sister. He did not open his eyes. Taking a deep breath he could not control his emotions. He cried like a child.

A sensitive but highly responsible editor of the friday came back to his seat that afternoon penned down his last editorial - 'Towards a political solution'. Despite his sorrow... he concluded it: "There are issues and personalities and when they get interlocked the whole system can become intractable".

Dear Samaranayake, there is a void in the Friday editorial now and we still cannot believe that you are no more. You were the great ocean-liner, that moved towards in a straight line.

Nature makes us believe that at any moment you may rush into the 'Friday' editorial with your charming smile and silently pen your popular columns - the Passing Parade and Time and Tide.

The banner by the friday staff says: "To the world you may have been somebody. But to us at Friday you were the world. Thank you for the time you spent with us", because this is exactly our sentiments.

May you attain the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana.

- Shanika Sriyananda

Loss of a colossus

It is difficult to believe that Ajith is no more. He strode the corridors of Lake House like a colossus in his own inimitable way and left an indelible mark on the minds of many, be it a journalist or a lowly worker, everyone in Lake House knew him. Ajith and Nihal Ratnaike were responsible for my entry to Lake House.

Many were the times I told him to get all his editorials together and put them into print. And all he said was that Mano, his wife has also told him the same thing.

I used to relish reading your editorials when I was in The Island newspaper and used to enjoy when you regaled us all with your stories.

In the past three weeks, after being appointed to thefriday newspaper I really got close to him. It's been three weeks since I went to the friday, he somehow comes to read his editorial and it is amazing how he sits and composes the editorial in just a matter of minutes.

The last editorial which he wrote on the day he fell ill was done in a similar manner. Although he had lost a sister tragically on that day, he came to the friday editorial and said "Give me half an hour, I will go out and come back and give you the Editorial" and he did just that. In a matter of a few minutes a perfect editorial was on the computer. This is Ajith.

May the turf lie gently over him.

Goodbye Ajith

Fahima Farisz