MEDICAL BATCH 62 REMEMBRANCE DAY - 2023 (2)

 Remembrance 2023

 Dr Nihal D Amarasekera

It was so long ago; the details are now hazy. I dab a tear as I reminisce, a tear of joy and of sorrow. I am overwhelmed by nostalgia as I recall those days in the Faculty.  I remember with a sense of loss a kinder gentler world which disappeared forever as I left medical school. The most painful of all is the disappearance from my life the people who meant so much to me, my friends. But then I remind myself that health is wealth.  Time is the only true currency. We were so much a part of the faculty and the GHC, the voices and laughter of those departed must still echo in the ether of those hallowed grounds.

The 30th of May is the day we remember our dear departed friends from our batch. This is now a special date in our Calendar. We have most aptly called this our “Remembrance Day.” I will indeed bow my head in remembrance of my friends and celebrate their lives. The gnawing pain of the loss of friends never eases with the passage of time. Friendships are one of life’s rich gifts. Those made and firmed in our youth are very special and are for life. They left us prompting great sadness; however, they leave behind fond and unique memories. 

At this time we think of the spouses and families of those who have departed this life. They have had the immensely difficult and painful task of coming to terms with living without their loved ones. We admire and commend their courage and efforts to maintain contact and join our gatherings and reunions. They are an integral part of our community and will always be welcome. 

With its traditions and rituals, the faculty was our Cathedral of Wisdom. Our jagged path from the dissections in the Block to the ward classes and appointments across Kynsey Road, we did them all together. We feel greatly privileged to have been taught by some remarkable teachers.  We take the opportunity to remember our teachers on this our special day. The harsh, ‘no-nonsense’ environment taught us to focus under pressure and develop an analytical mind. It gave us an indomitable spirit for the rigours ahead. We remember them with much affection and gratitude and thank them for their commitment to teaching. 

My abiding memory of those years are the long walks along those hospital corridors swinging a knee hammer and proudly wearing the stethoscope around the neck. There was an air of confidence and a touch of vanity which came from being a medical student. The end result however was never the gilded velvety life we envisaged in our youthful exuberance. 

Considering the quirks and achievements, our batch was unique. Although my career path was never as distinguished as those of some of my contemporaries, still, my claim to fame is that I once walked amongst them! Each one of us has played a part professionally to serve society and the community wherever we have lived and worked. The academic accomplishments and the professional success we see as we look around, speak for themselves. 

We are moving onwards on this long and tortuous journey of life. The peaks and plateaus and the twists and turns seem to daunt us less. Still, there are several challenges ahead. Despite life’s vain tumults, none of us is here forever. Our time will come. I share this not to garner pity, but to paint our new reality. The show must go on until the curtain falls. 

We had around 150 in our batch. I knew them all, some just by sight and others by close association due to alphabetical seating arrangement, studying together, being from the same school and living in the same vicinity etc. The friendships and closeness that we enjoyed have lasted a lifetime. Remembrance Day is a day to remember all the batch-mates that have passed on. Each one of us will have special and fond memories of those most near and dear. I would like to pay a special tribute to those who were very close to me. 

Bernard Randeniya: I lost my best friend in Bernard Randeniya alias Claude Bernard. This has left an echoing void. There was no one in my life like Bernard. There is not a week that passes without thinking of him. As a young medical student with his cherubic smile, he was funny, gregarious and an incorrigible flirt. His pranks and foibles can fill a book. Always happy, he saw the world through rose-tinted glasses. I visited him where he worked as DMO-Rattota (he mined for gemstones), MOH-Hanguranketa (he went hunting for wild boar), MS-Kalutara (moonlight parties by the river) and Director- Cancer Hospital Maharagama (holding lavish dinner parties). He had unique gifts as a host and a matchless gift for laughter. Wherever he was Bernard enjoyed good food, generous helpings of the amber nectar and loved a jolly good sing-song. His love of life, amiable kindness and generosity always stood out. Bernard passed away with great dignity in November 1999 at the age of 58 years. The time we spent together was a rich gift. So daring and so cheeky, Bernard’s playful nature and magical presence will live on in all who knew him. To this day, I can hear his drawl and see his mischievous smile. 

Sivakumar Vedavanam:  I got to know “Veda” when we worked together in the Central Blood Bank in Colombo. I recall the many evenings we drifted towards the Health Department Sports Club to enjoy the amber nectar and put the world to right. That was a time when the Medical Officer in the Blood Bank had to go to all parts of our island to collect blood. On many occasions when he went on these journeys, he asked me to join him for company. He was indeed great company, and we did have a jolly good time. During those trips, he showed tremendous kindness to the Public Health Inspectors, attendants and labourers who were part of the team. They loved him for his modesty, classless friendship and lavish hospitality. Those were indeed memorable years. Veda was not an overtly religious person but had a good understanding of the Hindu philosophy. Even as a young man, he lead a virtuous and moral life. Veda accepted the ups and downs of life with good grace. I will always remember him as a helpful and loyal friend. I do regret not remaining close to him in later years. Veda had a heart of gold and was a truly remarkable person. Adios amigo. 

A. Satchithananda: He was a highly cultured person of great intelligence. Satchi was urbane and warm, with a small circle of close friends. We became pals playing table tennis at the Faculty Common Room. That was the beginning of many years of friendship. Being fans of the early Apple Computers we caught up again when he was in Wisconsin, USA and I was in the U.K. Those Computers were then cheap and cheerful and often disastrously unreliable. We found ways to keep them going. Satchi was a clever and respected paediatrician when he walked away from the profession due to ill-health. He was then at the height of his fame and success. He wasn’t overtly religious but lead a principled life. His journey through life was studded with sadness and tragedy, but he always managed to smile and joke with friends. I remember well his charm and intellect. We met up in London and enjoyed a lunch exchanging gifts. His present to me was a Gorecki’s 3^rd Symphony, a sorrowful piece of work. Understandably, the events of his past and his own illness had a devastating effect on his life and his personality. Despite this, he maintained his dignity and composure, remaining a loyal friend to the end. He indeed stood above the common herd. Auf wiedersehen my friend. 

Razaque Ahamat: We both lived in Wattala. With a personality bigger than his waistline, he always had a fund of stories to relate. During those years, what stands out is his helpful kindness, his great sense of humour and charming convivial nature. All through those years in the Faculty, he enjoyed life to the full. He joined in the many dances, Colours Night and Block Nights that brightened up our lives. Razaque was often one of the last of the stragglers to leave the King George’s Hall at the break of dawn. His life then was an amalgam of experiences which he was ever willing to relate, no holds barred. Those who attended the London Batch Reunion in the 1990’s will remember Razaque for his dazzling display of the Scottish kilt with knee-length skirt and long thick stockings. This costume suited the big man to a tee. Razaque’s love of a good time never left him. He bore his ever-debilitating and restrictive illness, stoically. He brought joy to our lives and his was a life well lived. Razaque is sorely missed. Adieu until we meet again. 

H.N Wickramasinghe: I was surprised and delighted to see him in the Paediatric ward in Kurunegala to start his internship in June 1967. For the following 6 months, we were to save lives together. I remember enjoying his engaging and entertaining chatter on our first pay day when we walked to the Kurunegala Rest House for a beer. He had an irrepressible zest for life and added colour and depth to our conversation. This became a regular ritual until he left Kurunegala. Firm, honest, tough and reliable, I couldn’t have asked for a better colleague. My abiding memory of those times is our evening drinks together and the CT Fernando songs we sang into the stillness of the night. I wish there were smartphones to capture and treasure those moments. Sadly, we met again only once when we chatted and reminisced and wandered into the idealism and exuberance of our youth. HNW cut a smooth and genial figure and would live in the hearts and minds of everyone who knew him. A truly wonderful and inspiring friend, it brings me great sadness to think I will not be seeing that ever-smiling face again. Goodbye my friend. 

Priya Gunaratna: I got to know Priya in 1967 in Kurunegala doing those arduous tasks of paediatric internship. Poised, elegant and looking glamourous she was always immaculately turned out. While at work, Priya was assiduous in her work and had the great ability to remain calm and in control.  Power and authority did not rest easily on her shoulders. The nursing staff loved her.  She showed tremendous kindness, courtesy and patience to the children in her care and spoke warmly to their worried parents. She saw only the best in others and was indeed a very special person. Priya was a breath of fresh air in those days when females were too bashful and overly prudish. We loved her sharp and mischievous wit. Priya was an excellent raconteur and mimic. She lit up our tea breaks with a multitude of stories. Sadly, our paths never crossed but for a brief but warm chat in the swish foyer of The Cinnamon Grand in September 2012. I wish I could have accepted her invitation to join her for tea and cakes. She will be long remembered for her untiring efforts as one of the prominent organisers of our batch reunions in Sri Lanka.  Much loved wife and mother, Priya had a good life. Arrivederci. May peace be with you forevermore. 

Sunil R De Silva: Sunil was “Sunna” for everyone except perhaps his parents. Although he came from the upper echelons of Sri Lankan society, he had no airs and graces. He was a cultured gentleman, one of the best I’ve met during my years in the faculty. What stands out is the calmness he always showed despite the tough regime in the faculty of medicine. Sunna spent his entire free time enjoying cups of tea chatting with friends, playing billiards, bridge and table tennis. My abiding memory of Sunil is his boundless wit and humour delivered with a poker face. Sunil was soft-spoken, self-effacing and sober. His lifestyle was modest and unpretentious. He was exceptionally kind to everyone and treated all with courtesy and respect. Sunil never entertained any of that frivolous gossip which was rampant in the university. He never took the easier path of following the masses. His views were always well-considered but often unconventional. When I bade farewell on that fateful day in 1967 in the plush lobby of the faculty of medicine, I never knew I will not see Sunil again. His early demise brought great sadness. Although we were together just for 5 years it is as if I’ve known him all my life. I would have loved to see him age like me, suffer the same indignities of the ‘Athey Paye Rudawa’, taking a pharmacy of tablets to stay alive, while showering love to the grandchildren. He may have a chuckle reading this narrative, wagging his finger at me. Sunil was a gem in a world of pebbles. His was a short life well lived. I am grateful for his friendship. To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die. 

Tilak Dayaratne:  I came to know Tilak during the rag in 1962 when we both wore brinjals round our necks and exercised vigorously in the quadrangle. Tilak lived in Homagama and rode his red Moto Guzzi generating noise and elegance in equal measure. He often took me to Nugegoda weaving through the High Level road traffic at high speed. When I offered to pay him for the trip, he wanted to pay me for taking the risk. Tilak was a sensitive and thoughtful man. He was disdainful of hypocrisy, social convention and conformity. His apparent indifference should not be confused with a lack of respect for values and beliefs. On those rare social occasions he ignited interesting discussion and humour. Tilak detested the spotlight. To many, his life was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. To those who got to know him, Tilak was charming, kind and courteous. We got on tremendously well during our days at the faculty. He was a talented artist. At an end of appointment party, I recall that indelible moment when he stood up and sang about a Dutch girl. Our hostess was from the Netherlands. I do regret not keeping in touch after the great dispersal of 1967. He is now at peace, something that eluded him most of his life. May it last forever. 

Zita Perera Subasinghe: Although we were in the same batch, I spoke with her for the first time in 2015 when we had all retired. We met up at Côte Brasserie off Oxford Street in London with her husband Joe and Mahendra G. Despite the years, this was a remarkable bonding, and there was so much closeness and intimacy. We retraced our lives since medical school. I remember it to this day the clarity with which Zita related the story of her life, work and family. What stood out was how happy she was with her life. Always smiling and forever young, Zita accepted the advancing years with delight and optimism.

She was delightful company, always spoke kindly about people, and there was never a harsh word. Humility is something that came naturally to Zita. She had a deep concern for our planet and the perils of global warming.. Zita always had a strong feeling for the batch and was very keen to meet the batch-mates. She joined us in all the London Reunions organised by Pramilla Senanayake since 2016. Her supportive and encouraging comments has helped to keep our Blog alive. Blessed with a rich vocabulary and a great gift for poetry she lit up the Blog with her special brand of rhyming poems on a multitude of diverse topics. The poems are an eclectic mix, some gentle observations others inspired by her seaside home and some very moving. She wrote with gravity and depth and also with lightness and humour.

To live the life one wants, in the way one wants, is rare and is a brave and inspiring gift. To persevere and live it with dignity and peace is something to be greatly admired. Zita, you have achieved your goals better than most. It has been a great privilege to get to know you and thank you for being my friend. 

J.C.Fernando: JCF epitomised the ethos of our batch like no other. From the rag to the final year trip and everything else in between, he was in the thick of it. He was fiercely competitive be it a game of billiards, table tennis or a friendly argument. He had no airs and graces, spoke to everyone and made friends easily. Those playful and friendly exchanges and teasing remarks were his hallmark. I have preserved to this day an email he sent me appreciating an article I had written on the Blog.

JCF had the wonderful ability to see the funny side of life in every situation relating his stories bringing them to life. His singing at our evening booze-ups at the Men’s Common Room will live in our minds forever. He packed a lot into his life.

He was so much a part of our batch. I find it hard to believe I will not be seeing JC again.

May he find the ultimate Bliss of Nirvana. 

Sidath Jayanetti : Sidath joined our batch with the reputation as a fine Rugby player from Royal College, Colombo. He always had a great presence and an air of confidence but had the humility kindness and charm to be liked by everyone who knew him.

My first close contact with him was when we started our clinical work together with Dr Thanabalasunderam in 1964. It was a gruelling 2 months of apprenticeship which brought us all together. The harsh criticism and hard comments never wiped away his broad smile. We met again when he was SHO in Obs and Gynae in Kurunegala and I was M.O, OPD. How time has flown since those happy days of our golden youth.

 Sidath was superb company, always. His anecdotes and stories of people and places brought us much laughter. His sheer presence radiated happiness. My last contact with him was in London when he attended the Batch Reunion in 1997 with his family. We reminisced and drank to our health. My lasting memory is that broad smile which was Sidath's trade mark. He was a gem in a world of pebbles. 

Tudor Wickramarachi: He was rather restless and intense as a medical student. He always gave as good as he got. I also remember his ebullient and exuberant personality and his zest for life. Tudor and I worked as surgical interns and endured the punishing schedule of hospital medicine together. Amidst the brief tantrums, awful puns and risqué humour, Tudor showed great empathy and tremendous kindness to his patients, staff and colleagues. He was a loyal friend but was never inhibited by sensitivity or shyness when it came to expressing his own opinion.  Although occasionally boisterous he was mostly gregarious, genial and generous. I visited him when he was DMO Dambulla. Call it ‘oriental lavishness’, the bottle appeared before I sat down and to this day remains a blissful memory of a well-lubricated evening. When we met again in London he was much subdued and a reformed family man. I nearly fell off the chair when he refused a drink. Tudor became a respected Pathologist in Bristol. He sadly passed away while doing what he loved best – playing golf. A life well lived but taken far too soon age 66. May he find the ultimate bliss of Nirvana. 

Dr W. Rajasooriyar: He was a quiet lad who never stretched the boundaries of the rules of good behaviour and clean living. We often chatted in the common room, mostly about work. 

In 1967 we both started our Internship in Kurunegala and I had the good fortune to work for 6 months internship in Surgery with Raj. To our delight, he came to live in our House Officers Quarters as the only teetotaler.   He was never ashamed about his way of life and  often joined in our raucous discussions armed with a glass of water. It was then we all realized although he was a quiet person was never a pushover and stuck to his principles at all times.  There were times he politely disagreed giving his reason. He had tremendous patience. Raj showed boundless kindness and generosity during those difficult times of hard work and sleepless nights. Despite all this he often stood in for us to be oncall for us to “enjoy” ourselves.  Being the only sober person he felt it was his duty to look after those who misused the amber nectar. During that year our friendship grew and I have nothing but praise for Raj. I can still remember our final day at Kurunegala and the sad goodbyes.  

I phoned him when he worked as a locum Consultant Anaesthetist in the Midlands in the UK. Nothing seemed to have changed since those days of internship. He spoke softly and deliberately.  There was that familiar calmness and modesty still evident in his conversation. 

The dignity, honesty and integrity that he showed during his life is a testament to his spirituality. He will be remembered with great affection and esteem.  

May he find Eternal Peace

As we end our life’s fandango, those glorious and treasured undergraduate years will always remain “misty watercolour memories, of the way we were”. 

“Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart”.

H.W Longfellow