Tributes

Lalith Atulathmudali
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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
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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
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
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
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
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
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
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