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A final farewell... |
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 Lasantha
would have wanted us to move on; he would
not have wanted a newspaper full of
eulogies and fond memories...but in life
he touched so many hearts that now in
death, there are so many people who want to
share their thoughts with us. We dedicate
this week's Review to Lasantha's memory as a
final farewell.
As Editor of The Sunday Leader newspaper,
Lasantha Wickrematunge has earned a
reputation for courageous investigative
journalism that has been dedicated to
exposing corruption in all its forms.
His exposes have dealt with issues ranging
from petty to grand corruption in areas such
as privatisations and arms deals. Lasantha
Wickrematunge has demonstrated perseverance
in his mission to uncover the truth despite
repression from the authorities and physical
threats which have included assault and
being fired at with automatic weapons.
When government authorities shut down his
newspaper in May 2000, he fought back and
succeeded in resuming publication.
"In presenting this Integrity Award,
Transparency International wishes to
recognise the fundamental role of a free and
independent press in fostering
accountability and transparency and to
acknowledge the great courage of Lasantha
Wickrematunge in pursuing this goal
regardless of the dangers and hardships he
was made to endure," Transparency
International was to state awarding the
global Integrity Award 2000 to Lasantha.
A boss who loved pranks
|
Lasantha - You opened your heart
and your home to us |
Rajni Senewiratne
recounts the days at the Leader with a
mischievous boss who kept everyone
entertained. "It's a wonder we got a paper
done," she says.
Having come home on holiday for a friend's
wedding, the last thing I expected to have
to do whilst I was here was to accept that
Lasantha had been silenced forever. Even
when I received the call that he had been
shot, I refused to lose hope saying to
myself, `he has been here before, he is a
fighter, he will survive,' but it was not to
be and I now recall the days I worked at the
Leader with a heavy heart.
Working as a freelance journalist for The
Sunday Leader was my first 'proper' job. I
was at University and
Law College
simultaneously and writing for the Leader
became my outlet from an overdose of legal
studies. I started off shortly after
Lasantha and Raine launched the paper
together and worked for over five years with
them.
The memories I have of the two of them who
turned the office in to a second home for
all of us who worked there, are
irreplaceable and unforgettable. Especially
those mornings when they would walk in
together, their big welcoming grins becoming
wider as they were hailed with shouts of
laughter because they would inevitably be
wearing colour coordinated clothes.
A happier couple
The little bunch of us who worked with them
would often tease them saying that we had
never seen a happier couple, two people more
in love, in their 'old married state,' the
little jokes and teasing jibes they shared
when passing each other in the office giving
us even more ammunition.
There will as many have pointed out, be so
many articles and so much written about
Lasantha, the fearless journalist and
editor, but what I remember with fondness is
Lasantha, the charming, funny, generous boss
who never failed to play a practical joke on
someone if he had half a chance and never
failed to share (much to our delight) all
the many gifts he would receive of
chocolates, cakes and other goodies.
Working, those days, at the little office
down Ward Place was possibly the easiest
introduction any young and very green school
leaver could have to the working world, and
I had a blast.
The first time I had to conduct an interview
for a story was at the house of a leading
businessman. It was shortly after Lasantha
had been attacked for the first time and my
mother worried terribly, warning me not to
go alone, to make sure everyone knew where I
was etc. all of which I naively conveyed to
Lasantha.
Invitation to dinner
After the article was published, I received
a call from, (or so I thought) from the
same gentleman inviting me to dinner and
insisting I call him by his first name. My
suspicions that it was in fact Lasantha on
the other end of the telephone were
confirmed when Lasantha walked jauntily out
of his office, pleased as punch, with his
hands in his pockets, whistling, unable to
resist the urge to see for himself what the
reaction to one of his never-ending list of
practical jokes had been.
It was not the first and certainly not the
last time he was able to successfully
impersonate people on the telephone and he
played a variety of tricks on even the more
experienced journalists keeping the office
in fits of laughter. It was, we often
thought in those days, a miracle that we got
the paper out in time.
Another time, a group of us were at their
Kandawatte home dressing up to go to dinner
when Lasantha who had just woken up after a
short nap, found about seven giggling girls
running around the house. "Help," he yelled
running out of his room, covering his
eyes... "my house has been invaded, I am
under attack."
Hanging out
We loved going over and hanging out with the
family. Most of us were always invited for
all the birthdays and we always had a
wonderful time with them, laughing and
listening wide eyed, as Lasantha would
regale us with stories from his past, when
taking a break from playing catch with the
children in an effort to get them dressed
and ready on time.
They opened their hearts and their home to
us and often referred to us as their "Sunday
Leader kellas" making us feel as if we were
part of their family. So much so, that I
even turned down an offer of higher pay to
work at a different establishment preferring
instead to stay with them at the Leader.
The homely atmosphere in the office was
furthered by the fact that they would often
recount stories about what the children had
done. Avinash and Ahimsa being older were
often quite naughty and there was the famous
story of how Lasantha and Raine had arrived
home to find the whole house covered with
Lasantha's shaving foam in an attempt to
create an effect of snow.
Be forgiven
They would inevitably be forgiven though
simply because Lasantha would say he was the
same or worse when he was their age and that
it was in their genes.
He was a great father and it is no wonder
that his children love him so much and miss
him more than anyone could put into words.
It is no wonder then that Aadesh now dreams
of his father who promises to always be with
them and to never leave them.
To me he was a teacher, a guide and a
friend. As a mentor, he never failed to
praise and any mistake I had made, would
always be corrected with a smile. "When in
doubt, leave out," he would say with his
trademark grin if I went to him unsure of
any information I had received and he would
often go over various articles I wrote
making sure that my sources had given me
factually correct information; "Just making
sure we can't be sued" he would laugh.
A controversial article
When I co-authored what turned out to be
quite a controversial article which elicited
somewhat of a public response, I remember
receiving a few threatening letters and
telephone calls, all of which I was very
excited about and I would run into his
office to show him each letter I received.
No matter how busy he was, he would always
take a moment to laugh and would often be
just as excited as I was and just as proud.
The time I spent with Lasantha and Raine at
that little office, the laughter, the fun,
the exposure and the experiences I was
privileged to share, have given me a wealth
of precious memories, all of which will
never be forgotten.
I missed it terribly when I left to pursue
a different career and I will miss it even
more now, knowing that Lasantha is no longer
around and that I shall never again bump
into him somewhere in Colombo. But, those
great years I spent working with him, will
be treasured so much more now.
I will miss you Lasantha, I will miss seeing
your mischievous grin and reading your
hard-hitting editorials, I doubt that you
will ever be matched; I doubt whether anyone
will ever come close to achieving what you
did. You leave behind, a legacy of
fearlessness in the quest for the truth and
you were and always will be a true hero. We
can only hope that your fight for truth and
justice will continue and that you will
never be forgotten.
"I am going to beat you"
|
Kung-Fu master Billy Wong |
Kung-Fu master Billy Wong remembers
his student Lasantha who became a friend and
an inspiration. My relationship with
Lasantha was as a friend and instructor.
Initially he was just one of the crowd of
Kung-fu students who wanted to learn
something and have some fun in the process.
Lasantha however soon became more than just
a mere student; we became close
friends.Often, after a lesson we would go
somewhere for a meal.
Being around him was both exhilarating and
rewarding. All kinds of subjects would come
up for discussion. We would sit and swap
ideas not just about Kung-fu but about life
in general.When he became serious about his
Kung-fu he came to see me more often. He
would say, "Come on Wong, I'm going to beat
you one of these days."
In response I would say, "Hey man, if you
defeated me with my own skill, it still
proves my art is superior." We would then
have a hearty laugh.Lasantha showed me
respect as a teacher and wanted to hear
about my experiences and successes. He even
presented me with a nunchakku on my
birthday, January 19, last year. He wrote:
"Man of Kung-fu, Master in fight, Child in
heart, Long life with fame and name."
Lasantha was a dear friend and I miss him.
It's such a sorrow that a man of his calibre
had to leave us. But I feel he accomplished
more in his life of 50 years than most
people did in 70 or 80 years.
Farewell brother. It has been an honour to
share this space with you. As a friend you
inspired good in others. I end with this
poem by ancient poet Tzu Yeh, which you
liked so much:"Young man, seize every minute
of your time. The day flies by ere long you
too will grow old.If you believe me not, see
here, in the courtyard how the frost
glitters white, cold and cruel. On the grass
that once was green, you not see that you
and I are as the branches of one tree. With
your rejoicing comes laughter. With your
sadness, start my tears."
A boss like no other
Days may have passed since Lasantha was
brutally snatched away from his beloved
family, friends, colleagues and all those
who have known him around this world, but
the tributes that have been pouring in and
published in almost all the newspapers, the
internet and other forms of the media, prove
that Lasantha continues to live amongst us.
Lasantha was almost everything a human being
could be. Well-educated and hailing from a
respectable family, he was funny, affable,
generous to a fault, kind and entertaining.
He was always smiling, making wisecracks at
colleagues and teasing friends, sometimes
even mercilesslyto the point of
embarrassment. For all those who knew
Lasantha, he was one of a kind, gentle yet
determined andtough yet sensitive.
Even on a busy day, Lasantha would be cool,
sporting his usual trademark smile; he would
come around asking everyone what they had
for him and the readers for that week.
Whereever he was, there was never a dull
moment when he was around. His life was full
of risks and he knew it. The horror we all
felt when Lasantha and Raine were hauled and
attacked while they were on their way home
in their jeep, is still haunting. The memory
of Lasantha proudly describing how Raine had
fallen on him to shield him from the deadly
blows of the unknown assailants is still
vivid.
But even after other such incidents, which
would have sent any sane person dashing off
to some far off land across the oceans,
Lasantha fought on. He could never give up
and refused to be cowed down.
Hewas a wonderful person in his own way, but
a maverick with a passion, flirting with
danger. It was this sense of daring, an
almost blind courage and uncompromising
nature that perhaps precipitated his
untimely end.
But it was Lasantha who can be credited for
setting the standards for investigative
journalism in Sri Lanka. He put his life at
stake and the joys of his family, to bring
out what he believed was the truth, which he
felt the public had a right to know.
It was a privilege to have known and worked
withhim. He will always be an inspiration to
all those who have known him. The legacy of
Lasantha will live on, forever.
- Diya
Both a great friend and a
martyr
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With
Lasantha in recent times.
Right: Lasantha as 17 |
A true friend then, today a martyr,
childhood friend Darrel Fernandopulle
recalls the life and times of his dear,
departed friend
It is with competing emotions that I gather
my thoughts to convey my deepest
appreciation and greatest admiration for my
dear friend Lasantha.
The fact that I had a long chat with him on
the night of January 6 just 36 hours before
his tragic death, makes his loss even more
unbearable to me. It is in the midst of
these conflicting feelings that I will try
my best to turn back the clock and jog down
memory lane, articulating my association
with one of the most gifted, heroic and
unique individuals I have come across in
life. Lasantha (a.k.a Lasa or Huna) and I go
back over 40 years. We lived in Kotahena,
just two minutes from each other's homes.
We both studied at St. Benedict's College
and were pretty much in the same class from
Grade 6 onwards. We had a very close batch
of friends who stuck together come hell or
high-water and many can relate and attest to
some of the foregoing.
In addition to being at school together, we
would subsequently meet in the evenings to
play whatever sport was the flavour of the
day down Bloemendhal Lane. We kept moving
from each of the garden arteries off this
lane whenever we got turfed from one (often
due to something that Lasa did!). Was
Lasantha a bit of a bully and prankster when
he was young?
Teased him relentlessly
Absolutely yes! I recall him bringing one of
his father's trusted allies to school to
'deal' with a certain guy who was annoying
him. Mind you, Lasa would probably have been
around 10 years at the time! Nothing came
out of it, but ever since then, we teased
him relentlessly about it.
On another occasion, he stood in front of my
house and seeing my elder sister standing
behind me, he yelled something which I did
not like and in turn I shouted some not so
choice words back at him, not realising that
my sister was behind me.
Next thing I knew, I got a good knock from
my sister and there he was howling and
laughing outside our gate - perfect set up
and I fell for it hook, line and sinker!
Even in later years, he would disguise his
voice and prank-call me, so much so that
whenever I got an anonymous call, my first
answer was "is that Lasa?"
As some of you probably know by now,
Lasantha was a very good left arm spinner
who would have definitely represented the
school at the senior level had he not left
to
UK
at a young age. Under our good friend, the
late Shivanka's captaincy, Lasa had a career
best 8-wicket haul in an under-16 game.
Needless to say, he would remind us about
this remarkable feat at every opportunity!
Despite his cricket prowess, I believe
Lasantha should have taken to athletics.
Playing carrom
You see, we used to play carrom at a
friend's place a few doors down the road.
Lasantha had this uncanny gift of being able
to recognise the sound of his father's car
horn from a great distance away. Since he
was supposed to be at home studying and not
playing carrom, Lasa would make a mad dash
to his home before his father could take the
turn to his lane. I am sure he had Usain
Bolt-like times whenever he did this sprint!
Whilst he was studying in the UK, Lasantha
and I continued our friendship and
corresponded on various topics of mutual
interest, but I could clearly witness a
sense of activism blossoming from the young
18-year old. I will never forget the day he
returned from UK - reminded me of Leo Sayer
with his afro hair. He tried to fake a heavy
British accent and talk to me, but I
wouldn't bite.
During house-dances, Lasantha would make a
big impression with all the girls strutting
his John Travolta-like Saturday Night Fever
routine (complete with the velvet jacket and
broad collar!). How can we forget all those
good times in Kotahena, especially the
parties we had at his home when his parents
were travelling overseas?
Eclectic group of friends
We had a very close eclectic group of
friends who at one time decided to embark on
joint-studies! Lasa was studying for his law
exams, I was doing accountancy, Shivanka and
Kumar J. were doing engineering, Vala IATA ,
Michael marketing and Kumar S. the bankers'
exam. Very bad idea - the group would get
together ostensibly for all-night study
sessions, but would end up playing 3-0-4
cards till the wee hours of the morning.
Despite all this, Lasantha passed his bar
exam without any problem.
When I think of Lasantha, amidst all the
great qualities that he had, one of the most
amazing things that strike me is his
simplicity. Lasa never forgot his past; he
was extremely humble and always remembered
his friends. I will never forget how
Lasantha came to see me right after the '83
riots and I know for a fact that it had a
profound effect on him.
Despite his busy schedule, he would never
miss any of our parties. Being the
teetotaller he was; the running joke was how
he would perfectly time his appearance just
before the food was served (usually at least
six hours after start time). I suppose, in
addition to having a keen sense of hearing,
he had a great sense of smell too!
With all these years of sincere friendship
under our belt, I cannot explain how elated
I was when Lasa asked me to be his bestman
at his wedding in 1988.
Having known Raine for a few years by then
and Lasantha for an eternity, I considered
this to be a great honour and a sign that
our friendship had lasted the test of time.
With attesting witnesses of the calibre of
Ranil Wickremesinghe and the late Anura
Bandaranaike, one would have thought that
Lasantha would rent the best limousine in
town for the wedding.
Old white Renault car
But true to his humble nature, he simply
drove his old white Renault car to the
Inter-Continental Hotel with me in the front
seat. Lasantha and I continued to keep in
touch despite the many miles that separated
us. I was fortunate that his parents and
sisters lived close to my place and as such,
it afforded me an opportunity to meet him
each time he visited them. I am grateful
that they all embraced me as part of their
family and would cherish the fact that I was
able to partake in his 50th birthday
celebration last April.
From the time I heard of Lasantha's tragic
death I have read countless eloquent
articles extolling his virtues. Be it quotes
from Alfred Tennyson's Ulysses (To strive,
to seek, to find, and not to yield) or
Martin Niemller's poem "First They Came for
Me" (since immortalised by Lasantha's "And
Then They Came For Me"), there is no doubt
that Lasantha was one very special,
extremely gifted and courageous individual.
To me, he was and will always be my dear
friend, who stood by my side through good
times and bad and never let fame change his
qualities. I challenge you all to ponder on
the following and make your own judgement:
Greater love hath no man than this, that a
man lay down his life for his friends (Holy
Bible - John 15:13). He was a martyr.
According to The Merriam-Webster Dictionary
a martyr is a person who sacrifices
something of great value and especially life
itself for the sake of principle.
Goodbye my dear friend Lasa. I am thankful
that our paths crossed. In my books, you are
both a great friend and a martyr. May the
flame you ignited light on forever. May you
rest in peace till we meet again!
Those were the days...
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Early days of The Sunday Leader
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Those were the good times.Sulochana
Pieris reminisces the happy daysshe
spent working as a reporter on the first
batch of staff at The Sunday Leader
Iam not one who can be relied on for
remembering life's little details,
especially if they are about persons and
incidents running back well over a decade.
But there are afew exceptions that remain
permanently alive in a special corner of my
heart. My first and former boss, Lasantha
Wickrematunge isone of those few people who
have permanent residency in that special
corner.
As I reminisce the good times I had whilst
working at The Sunday Leader as a reporter
on the first batch of staff from 1994- 1996,
my thoughts become entangled in a wave of
emotions such as sadness, anger and
helplessness. I am sad because Lasantha is
no more, angry because he was gruesomely
murdered for his relentless pursuit of
wanting to tell the truth in his inimitable
and in-your-face style and helpless not
being able to reverse the dangerous trend of
depreciating value that some people in my
country place on human lives.
I still remember the first time I walked
into Lasantha's office for an interview.
Fresh out of school, zero experience and
knowledge about the profession of journalism
and also with little aim and direction as to
what I wanted to do with my life! Lasantha,
on the other hand was the editor-in-chief of
a newspaper that was fast becoming the talk
of the town and certainly did not appear to
be desperately short-staffed to hire me.
Freelance basis
He agreed to hire me on a freelance basis
and I walked out of his room with a lasting
impression about a person who seemed both
unassuming and kind hearted, the very
qualities that his staff admiredhim forand
sought refuge in times of both professional
and personal trouble.
I still remember the first time Lasantha was
assaulted in 1995 whilst driving home with
Raine after work. The next day when all of
us visited him in hospital, we were greeted
with the same gleaming smile we had come to
associate him with. One of us asked how he
was feeling and personifying his jovial and
high spirited characteristics out came the
answer, "Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot" taken from
the lyrics of a song which was popular at
the time.
That afternoon, we held a protest march in
front of Temple Trees against his assault in
the scorching sun whilst amusing each other
how Lasantha was feeling 'Hot Hot Hot' on a
hospital bed. During my time at The Sunday
Leader I had never heard anyone saying a bad
word about Lasantha. He created an enabling
environment in which a group of senior and
junior journalists could work as a team
without feeling intimidated or excluded. For
me personally, The Sunday Leader under his
leadership gave confidence and courage to
stand tall and not be bullied into
submission.
Devoid of cut-throatism
This solid foundation would turn out to be
crucial in shaping my professional life. The
place was refreshingly devoid of petty
office politics and cut-throatism,something
commonin all the other places I have worked
afterwards.
For those of us straight out of school, it
became a second home under the guardianship
of Lasantha and Raine. For the first
anniversary of The Sunday Leader, it was
decided that a photo be printed with all the
girls in the office for the Now! Magazine
cover.
That was one of the many days that we used
to frequently invade their house to get
dolled-up for parties, dinners, cocktails
and much more. I remember us making serious
plans with Raine to 'steal' Lasantha's
credit card to go partying. I conveniently
can't recall if this plan ever translated
into action! Lasantha tolerated many of our
youthful shenanigans in a fatherly manner.
Sought re-employment
With no offence to my other former bosses,
Lasantha was the only boss with whom I
sought re-employment many years down the
line. He was happy to hire me and so was I
to work once again under him. But he told me
he couldn't match my salary expectations in
order to be fair to the other staff.
As someone who doesn't believe in reliving
past experiences and wanting to take up new
challenges, my exploring re-employment at
The Sunday Leader stands in testimony to the
kind of admiration and respect I had for
Lasantha.
Aggrieved as I am at his assassination and
permanently silencing someone who had so
much to offer to his family, staff and
society, my gut feeling tells me his death
will motivate and inspire us to work towards
peace, justice, equality and dignityfor all
communities in Sri Lanka and celebrate the
life of Lasantha who admirably gave up his
life to all those things that are the
essence of a plural and democratic society.
God speed, Lasantha!
|
We will never forget you |
Ex-Leader staffer Marianne David
tells of the man who inspired, entertained,
whistled when he wanted help and sang
off-key!
Reams have already been written about
Lasantha's courage and independence, his
breakthrough investigative reporting style
and the passion which drove him to publish
and be damned. A fearless and brilliant
man, few - apart from his beloved family and
children - knew the friendly, down-to-earth
and easygoing Lasantha that we, who worked
with him at The Sunday Leader, knew.
Although I left the Leader fold in March
2007, after six fabulous years with the
team, I took with me memories that I will
always cherish. Memories of friendship and
laughter - with Lasantha, Raine (surrogate
mother to us girls!) and the editorial and
layout teams. Yes, he was Editor-in-Chief,
but Lasantha was also a father and a friend
to us.
I remember walking into the Leader office,
just 20 years old, and being asked to start
work the very next day, in true Lasantha
style, followed by, "Call me Lasantha, there
are no misters here!" Many of the Leader
journalists shared the same experience.
From that day, it was a learning experience
that taught me everything I know about
journalism and so much about humanity and
courage.
Singing loud
My best memories of working with him were
at the Bauddhaloka Mawatha office. I'd be
walking into office when suddenly someone
would jump out of a doorway, singing loud as
ever - completely off-tune, which made it
more like shouting than singing - "Hello
Mary Lou, goodbye heart." That was Lasantha.
He never tired of such pranks. He would eat
our food, tease us unmercifully, and buy us
ice cream. He would listen patiently - this
man who probably had a million other things
on his mind - and always reassure us
whenever we had any concerns. That was the
Lasantha we knew.
I remember when Lasantha was trying to diet
and supposedly avoiding sweets. But if ever
there was a cake in sight, Lasantha would
sneak up to it and grab a chunk, warning us
not to tell his wife. "I am supposed to be
on a diet!" he would say, patting his
midriff, asking if he had lost weight. How
could he, the way he kept constantly
checking with us if there was anything to
eat!
No clue
It was a sight worth seeing when he first
got his laptop. Typing with two fingers as
he did, Lasantha had no clue what to do!
Same story with his new phone - although he
quickly got the hang of both. Until then,
shouts of "Marianne! Mandana!" would be
heard, followed by a plea to show him how to
operate one of the two.
A man who never believed in internal phone
extensions, he would simply shout for us. Or
whistle! Lasantha's whistle was so loud that
the whole office, including a senior peon,
old Sandanam, would be alerted.
He'd start dictating the news stories. The
words would flow so effortlessly. He never
needed to change a story - he'd just recite
it from start to finish, off the top of his
head. Then he'd say, "Do a spell check, and
show me the final page," flash his wide
smile, and he'd be back in his room,
bullying someone on the way, every time.
Never uncertain
With Lasantha leading us, we never had to
worry; we were never uncertain. We would
stand with him, confidently. He inspired
loyalty and devotion and we believed in him
fervently - he never let us down. Not once.
I have often been teased about how much I
adore Lasantha. No harm. I always did. And I
always will. He taught me so much. And the
day that we walked, hand in hand, behind the
hearse carrying his lifeless body was a day
that I hoped would never dawn.
But even though Lasantha may have left the
land of the living, for those of us who love
him, he will always be alive in our hearts,
sporting that mischievous, boyish, now
heart-rending smile. God speed, Lasantha.
May you find peace. .
Memories of my Bappi
|
Children brought him a special happiness |
He was the joker in
the family, always wisecracking to embarrass
us
By Senali Wickrematunge Kodituwakku
When I was asked whether I would like to
write a tribute to Bappi I enthusiastically
agreed. However, sitting here, pen in hand,
so many silly, loving and unforgettable
memories flood my mind and to write it all
down would not fit into a tribute less than
the size of a novel.
My earliest memory of him was when I was
around two. I had taken a nasty topple down
the stairs at my home in Kotahena and who
was making more of a racket than me? Bappi
of course, which made me stop crying and
stare back at him. That's how much he loved
children. He hated to see anyone in pain.
Bappi was my favourite. As a child I loved
spending my weekends at my grandparents,
with him around the house, always goofing
off and doing something to make my Aunty
Buncy and Achchi mad at him. He would come
running home totally disturbing my grandma's
sewing classes shouting, "Chandra! Oh!
Chandra!" And kiss her mercilessly till she
would beat him with one of her long rulers
and ask him to leave the room.
One condition
My mother always narrates to me of a time he
had been asking her for Rs.10 and she had of
course agreed but on one condition, to dress
like a girl, wig and all, and walk up and
down the street a few times! Bappi did it of
course, no surprise there.
I fondly remember when Bappi was engaged to
Aunty Raine she used to bring me chocolates
as a bribe, since I being the pesky little
brat that I was, I never liked anybody
spending any time with him except me. He
used to always call me his little wretch! He
would hug Aunty Raine all the time, kiss her
head and say, "Aney magey modi!"
Driving me around in his car he would try to
embarrass me by putting the shutters down
and yelling out to the girls on the road,
"Hey look at me sweetheart! Don't you want
to go out with a good looking fellow like
me?" I was so embarrassed that I would
crouch down in my seat begging him to stop!
Whenever he saw me he would reach into his
pocket and give me some money and ask me to
go get something.
In more recent times, after I myself was
married and a mother, I would take my
daughter to see him at the Leader office. He
was her Bappi Seeya and of course he hated
the term saying "hey, drop the Seeya and
call me Bappi." He'd pick her up and say,
"She's a thug just like you."
Bother him
I would call and bother him about something
or the other on a daily basis. Never has he
not picked up the phone even in the middle
of a meeting to ask me if everything was
o.k. and whether it was urgent. He would
then say, "Shall I call you back Seno?" And
he always did.
I would tell him everything. If it was a
problem he always said, "Don't worry about
it Seno, let me take care of it."
Now I feel so lost without him to talk to.
Bappi's not here to reassure me anymore. I
wanted him so much to get up from that bed
at the operation theatre and say that
everything was o.k. but this time he was
silent. I kept calling out to him but this
time he did not answer me.
I am engulfed with grief and an overbearing
anger of that fateful day's happenings but I
am also left with a deep sense of pride and
honour for the man that he was. The cowards
that silenced him only managed to stir up a
hornet's nest; no more are democratic norms
or the basic human rights enshrined in the
constitution something that we can now take
for granted.
Bappi stood for what he believed in. He
relentlessly pursued along, setting a
gleaming example to others who were afraid
to speak the truth.
A beacon of light
He was a beacon of light and hope to all
other journalists in our country who felt
stifled by the system. Even in his death his
last editorial proved and sent out his
message loud and clear as to exactly who
Lasantha Wickrematunge really was. A
fearless man, a loving husband and father, a
true friend and a great leader.
He had a knack of putting a smile on
everybody's face, be it friends, family,
co-workers or even those who bore the brunt
of his feisty articles. Reporting the truth
gave him such a high and I know through most
of my friends, reading his paper every
Sunday morning was ritualistic for many. He
touched lives in ways that are unimaginable.
People knew that with him what you see is
what you get. That they were not being
deceived into believing anything other than
what was the complete truth.
I cannot imagine that you are not here
anymore, but you will live in all our hearts
forever more. Every time I see Avinash,
Aadesh and Ahimsa, your loving children, I
see you in them Bappi and I am brought to
tears. We all miss you so much. My life
would never be the same again but in ending
I would like to thank you for all the loving
memories and good times that you have given
me, and to those who did this not knowing
that they actually at last gave you the
peace that you so deserve, which they never
gave you in your living years.
Our home was his home
|
Lasantha with a younger Aadesh |
'He wanted me to write for The Sunday
Leader, but this tribute isn't what
I would ever have wanted to write'
By Shazna Muzzamil
Uncle Lasantha was my dad's closest friend
and even though we had no biological
connection he was more than family to us.
There were five of us, four younger brothers
and myself and he was close to all of us.
He may have been a brilliant journalist, a
brave and courageous editor, somebody who
thought the truth must be heard, and made it
his mission to enlighten the ignorant just
so he could make a better and safer
environment for all of us; but to us he was
someone we did share a joke with, someone
who did take time out to listen, laugh and
actually let us believe our views on current
affairs meant anything.
He kept insisting I write for him saying I
could do it from home.˙ He was persistent
about it.˙ He would be proud of me today but
this is not what I would have ever wanted to
write for him.
Trademark cheeky grin
I do not live with my parents anymore so
every time I visited, I would find him
seated on the sofa and, with his trademark
cheeky grin, ˙he'd tell me he was˙there at
my parents more than I was. ˙ My children
were like his own. He would spend some time
with them, listen to my stories about what
they had been up to and then he did talk
about his own.˙ Whenever he went abroad he
never forgot to bring something for my kids,
however simple it may be,˙which only went to
show we were not too far from his thoughts.
He loved children, he loved his, he loved
mine and all kids.
He found it challenging to challenge us.˙ He
would provoke us into a debate about
something written in the Leader. That was
when he was at his best. His views and ours
clashed but he respected that, sometimes
grudgingly, when he realised he was not
getting anywhere.
I˙would have text messages and his text
messages always contained smiley faces.˙If
he thought he wasn't getting anywhere, he
would make a comment about 'Ladies College
girls' (my old school). He wanted us to
believe that the 'good' can live on in this
big ugly world.˙
With his death it only goes to show that it
is the 'good' who will ever take a back seat
in this country.˙ It is disheartening to
know that if someone out there wants to make
a difference, the chances are that people
who believe it is disturbing their way of
life would rather silence that voice or in
his case stop his pen.
Gunned down cruelly
They say the pen is mightier than the sword,
but is it mightier than the revolver? The
last I spoke to him he said I owe him a
dinner and he promised to˙be there˙- three
days later he was gunned down cruelly by
cowards who think they're big and brave.
Walking into my parent's home I still expect
him to be there and it's difficult to
believe he's gone and that I'll never see
him again, that there will never be anyone
who would insist my lazy mind must think.
I can't put into words how much we will miss
him.˙ He was part of our lives; he was a
constant fixture at our family gatherings or
just an easy Saturday or Sunday afternoon.˙
It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing he is
never going to be there when I walk in to
our home, which was his home away from home,
with the biggest smile plastered right
across his face.˙
Death comes to all of us but it may have
been easier to accept his if we had been
prepared. It was too sudden, too soon and
too cruel.˙ Life will go on, but where his
legacy will go remains to be seen since
there are a few too brave to go where he
went. |
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