Our parents would still be alive
if they were given security

By Dilrukshi Handunnetti

If the security they sought was provided at the required time, our parents would still be alive. And now they are lost to all of us, not just their children but also to the country, say the grieving children of late Major General Janaka Perera and Wajira.

To Janukshi, Shehara and Ashanka, their parents' death dealt a deadly difficult blow. And they acknowledge that their father was targeted at a time when he was altering the course of his life to dabble in mainstream politics to continue serving his country through a different medium.

They are still trying to deal with the grief their parents' loss had caused them. As they come to terms with their grief, these youngsters nevertheless draw strength from the values imparted by their parents and feel a strong desire to reach out to the families of the 28 others who died in the October 6 suicide attack in Anuradhapura.

"We feel their pain, because it is the same pain that we are currently going through. We also know, they don't get the attention, the media focus or support that we receive. Our hearts go out to them. We are all one in this shared grief, "acknowledges Shehara, the youngest daughter in the Perera family.

To these kids, their parents were everything. "They constituted everything to us. Our life source. Everything," notes Janushki, the eldest daughter.

"Two exceptional human beings"

There are too many memories of her parents that she considers precious, but Janushki says that her parents were "two exceptional human beings" who made every possible effort and sacrifice to make them happy and secure. "Often they told us, treat everyone the way you would like to be treated."

The youngest and the pet in the family, Ashanka prefers to allow the sisters to do all the talking, only intervening to add a thought or two or embellish a comment. "Our parents were unique. They taught us about love and living life fully. This meant, helping each other, within family and society," he notes.

Among the most important lessons they learned about love and marriage also came from their parents who were extremely committed to each other. "They were two different people. But they functioned as one," summarises Janukshi.

And looking back, amidst the debris of yesterday, she feels that their father put his dreams aside for years to accommodate their own. This also meant, not entering politics after his retirement from the Army despite many invitations.

"Initially we did not like the thought of our father entering politics. It's too murky and risky. After he retired from the Army, thaththi was invited by many political parties to enter politics. I think he was keen, but he refrained because we disliked the idea," she adds.

In her eyes, their father was a giant of a man who was ready to paint in broad strokes on the canvas of national politics when his life was snuffed out, together with his wife.

Distinguished military career

Intervenes Shehara, to add: "It is important to note that despite his long and distinguished military career, our father never identified himself racially. He called himself a Sri Lankan, encouraged us to do the same and wanted us to be of service to the nation, in our own individual ways."

The children later relented and when their father joined the UNP and ran a quick campaign in the North Central Province (NCP) to become the chief minister, their mother wanted to be with him.

"They had that kind of relationship where mom missed dad so much that she left Australia to be with him. Our guess is she herself took to politics like a duck to water. She never thought it was in her and I think she identified a new aspect in her personality  when she went to Anuradhapura. There she grew in a different way, made friends and wanted to help the women there," notes Janukshi.

Adds Shehara, "This is funny. She used to joke that she had the bigger following. When we chatted on Skype, she told us how genuine and innocent the people were and what fun it was to run a campaign and feed over 1000 people during mealtimes. She also spoke how much of love flowed during the campaign and about thaththi's grand plans to make Raja rata shine."

Among some of the fun things she recalls of her parents' campaign days was when their mother told them how they protested in front of a police station and the kind of reception their father received. "Mom said it was amazing. And mom never wanted to be away from father. She believed her place was always next to him, with him. In fact, she was his quiet strength and his reason for being," adds Janushki.

Merged with the people

And young Ashanka believes that soon enough, their parents became a part of Anuradhapura and the lives of the Anuradhapura people. "They laid down new roots there and merged with the people."

In the aftermath of their tragic deaths, the children feel emboldened by the love and support others show them. "Our parents were everything to us. We are shattered now that they are gone. But we feel their presence, that they are around us," says Janushki who marvels at the reception they received in Anuradhapura when their parents' bodies were taken for the public to pay their respects.

"It was amazing. We realised what our parents have built in such a short time and what they have become to the public. How many people have come to count on their presence? We acknowledge their grief and their sense of loss which is as intense as ours," says Shehara.

Did they wish to participate in the election campaign? Janushki shakes her head. The children did not want to play a role in the political programme. "We are not politicians. That's for those who are in it," notes Shehara.

But they certainly wanted to be in Anuradhapura and watch how things unravel as their father turned into a politician. When they booked air tickets to fly home, Janaka stopped them, due to security concerns. "If we arrived in Anuradhapura, he would have given his security to us. That would have exposed him to further danger for he never had the security he asked for. We knew the kind of security risks he ran, much more than many people we know. If we were around, he would not have been able to concentrate. He loved us so much."

Love and service

Do they feel enraged by what happened to their bereaved parents and the sheer cruelty of it? Quips Ashanka fast. "Our parents' legacy is not about hatred or bitter legal disputes. Theirs is about love and service. That's how we want them to be remembered. So in whatever possible small way, we will continue to realise their dreams, even if they are no more."

"What would anyone gain by being bitter?" questions Janushki, and insists, when her father was killed, something tragic happened from the nation's point of view as well.

"When thaththi died, the hope of this country also died with him."

They are no longer amazed by the fact that their parents decided to settle in a new home in Anuradhapura and why they felt so strongly about the Raja Rata people. "We realised that in Anuradhapura, they were parents to not just four children but many. They were brother and sister to thousands.  They had created new families, friends and a new circle of which they were the elixir of hope. People spoke with such affection about them."

Shehara particularly recalls what the villagers told her as she visited the hospital and some people associated with their parents during their brief spell in Anuradhapura. "They remembered mom as the easier person to get to know. They said she ate a particular food at  their homes, she liked a particular curry and she sat on the mat and drank water. Things like that. And everyone said they loved her for her warmth and her brilliant smile."

Adds Janushki, " they all knew about us. Amma had spoken about us to everyone. They knew our names and small details and treated us perhaps with the same love they showed our parents. We are very grateful for their support."

Through a political programme

It is these people, Shehara believes, that her parents wish to help through a political programme. " They are the ones who actually fall through the crack. Everyone forgets the average person."

And they feel there is a lot that needs to be done in the electorate their father chose to be a part of. Health remained a big concern as did water and sanitation. Access to English was also a gray area. "They are smart people. We want to help them so that they can help themselves. They only need the tools for development," adds Ashanka.

In hindsight, they deal with their intense grief by filling their minds with the many positive things their parents taught them. They take solace in the fact that they were one happy family. " We have no regrets. We were perhaps the world's most loved children," notes Shehara.

Quips Janushki, "in our family, many thought dad was boss, because he has this great personality and a name to go with it. But mom held the key, and she held the key to his heart too."

"With them, we had many years of happiness. They gave us love, support, affection and values. We are extremely grateful to them for all that they did for us. We will try to live our lives, supporting each other, just the way they would have wanted us to," adds Ashanka.

To help the families of servicemen

To keep their parents' memory alive, the children are eager to work through Lak Jaya, a foundation created by Janaka Perera and others to help the families of servicemen affected by the war and service people themselves. As for politics, they rule out any involvement though they dedicate themselves to the task of realising the dreams of their parents at least to some extent.

And they look forward to establishing a Leadership Academy in the names of their parents to help the Anuradhapura youth.

The ashes of Janaka and Wajira were interred on Thursday in Panadura, the ancestral place of the Perera family.

The children are very grateful to their uncle Prithiviraj and aunt Shereen for stepping in to take care of them in their time of sorrow. "They are our strength. We are holding on, thanks to them. And our cousin Rejaan is much more than a cousin. She is our shadow. She just refuses to leave our side," they add, gratitude etching their voices.

They also have a collective message for the people of Anuradhapura. " Stay strong. Keep trying. Our hearts remain with you."

On Monday, they take wing to Australia to resume their education - and a life without their beloved parents. As they leave, they take a host of cherished memories and the determination to keep the memory of their parents alive and to help the people of Anuradhapura - just as their parents desired.