REMEMBRANCE DAY 2026
Thank you for all your contributions.
UPDATED LIST OF OUR DEAR DEPARTED COLLEAGUES
Please check and post a comment if any amendments are required, especially if you can fill the blanks.
This blog (created in March 2011 by Lucky) is about new entrants to the Colombo Medical Faculty of the University of Ceylon (as it was then known) in June 1962. There were a total of 166 in the batch (included 11 from Peradeniya). Please address all communications to: colmedgrads1962@gmail.com. Header image: Courtesy Prof. Rohan Jayasekara, Dean, Faculty of Medicine, University of Colombo (2011 - 2014). Please use the search bar using a keyword to access what interests you
Please check and post a comment if any amendments are required, especially if you can fill the blanks.
Added on 1st June 2026
This appeared as a comment from ND, and I think it is a fitting way to conclude Remembrance Day 2026 posts on our Blog.
"We are coming to the end of our month for remembrance. Our grateful thanks to all who joined in to remember. We always remember our friends throughout the year and pay our tribute to those who have departed this world. The blog is our place to meet and greet. The reunions in Colombo and London keep us together.
Our faculty years are a distant memory now, but one we can never forget. I hope we will stay in touch with the many portals and forums available".
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It was really good to see the number of contributions by colleagues, and my thanks to all of you who commented, and not forgetting the silent majority who accessed our Blog but did not post a comment. I hope you like this video, which I have produced by editing the one I did for 2025 (music and images). It has been updated and modified suitably.- Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale.
I trust this meets with your approval.
Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale. Blog Admin.
Departed list: updated 01.04.2026
1.
S.R. (Sunil) de Silva
2.
A.R.K. (Russel) Paul 1990
3.
Dawne de Silva Paul 1990
4.
Bernard Randeniya
5.
Niriella Chandrasiri
6.
V. Ganeson
7.
L.G.D.K. (Irwin) Herath
8.
V.Kunasingham
9.
B.L. Perera
10. B.
Somasunderam
11.
N.C.D.M. Gunasekara
12.
K.Sunderampillai
13. Tudor
Wickramarachchi
14. K.N.
(Kiththa) Wimalaratne
15. Anna
Ponnambalam Sathiagnanan
16. A.
Satchitananda
17. N.
Sivakumar
18. T.A.
Dayaratne
19.
Sidath Jayanetti
20. N.
Balakumar
21.
Kamali Nimalasuriya de Silva 14.4.2013
22. K.
Sri Kantha – 15.9.13
23. P.
Lucien Perera – 14.6.14
24. Priya
(Gunaratna) de Silva – 8.10.14
25. Arul
(Sivaguru) Balasubramaniam – 15.10.14
26. W.
Punsiri Fernando – 15.11.14
27. W.
Rajasooriyar – 6.1.15
28.
M.P.C. Jaimon – 26.3.15
29. S.
Vedavanam – 1.7.15
30.
Farouk Mahmoud – 27.11.16
31.
Janaka (JG) Wijetunga – 13.03.17
32.
Manohari Navaratnarajah Shanmuganathan – 22.03.17
33. D. B.
Mahendra Collure – 31.05.17
34. Suren
Iyer – 13.10.17
35.
Sardha Jayatilake Wijeratne (Passed away 3 years ago)
36. S.
Sarvananda – 26.05.18
37. Sue
Ratnavel Gunsegaram - 16.7.2018
38. Boyd
Tilak (Chula) Batuwitage - 10.12.2018
39. Ranjit
Kuruppu 9.4. 2019
40. C.D.
(Desmond) Gunatilake 2.6.2019
41.
Razaque Ahamat 7.7.2019
42.
H.N.Wickremasinghe 8.11.2019
43. Kamini
(Goonewardena) Ferdinando 31.1.2021
44. Lucky Weerasooriya
jan 2022
45. Zita Perera
Subasinghe 5.10.2022
46. V.P.H Rajapakse
15.10.2022
47. Mangalam
Sabaratnam Krishnadasan 22.12.2022
48. Cecil Saverimuttu
26.1.2023
49. J. C. Fernando
18.04.2023
50. Navam Chinniah
03.082023
51. Philomena P
Thiraviam 6.9.2023
52 Subramanium,
Indrani Anthonypillai Oct 2023
53. Asoka Wijeyekoon
Dec 22nd,2023
54. Sriani Basnayake
Dissanayake 15.02.2024
55. R Wickremaskeran
23.4.2024
56. Bertram
Nanayakkara 24.05.2024
57. Gwendoline
(Perera) Herath 28.06.2024
58. Primrose
(Jayasinghe) Wijeyewardhena 11.08.2024
59. Rita M G Silva
(Alwis) Nov 2024
60. Lakshman
Abeyagunawardene. 14.12.2024
61. Revelion
(Revo) Drahaman 20.12.2024
62. Raveendra (Ravi)
Nadaraja. 19.05.2025
63. Lareef Idroos.
01.09.2025
64. Padmini (Pathmani)
Goonewardena August 2025
65. Kumar Balachandra.
January 2026
As I look back on my life and remember the friends we have
lost, I turn to the wisdom of Robert Laurence Binyon and the poignant lines he
wrote for those who fell in the First World War:
They shall
grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall
not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going
down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
The 30th of May has become a special day in our calendar. It
is set aside to remember our friends who entered the Faculty of Medicine,
Colombo, in 1962 and who are no longer with us. It is a time for reflection —
to cherish the wonderful years we shared, to honour their memory, and to
celebrate their lives with gratitude for the time we were privileged to have
together.
I am often overwhelmed with nostalgia as I think back to our
days at the Faculty. I remember, with a deep sense of loss, a kinder and
gentler world that seemed to fade as we left medical school. Most painful of
all has been losing the friends who meant so much to me. Life carried us
forward — onto the relentless treadmill of building careers and raising
families. Now, at the close of my working life, I still long for those days,
though more than fifty years have passed. We were such an integral part of the Faculty
and the General Hospital; perhaps our voices and laughter still echo in the
corridors of those hallowed halls.
The ache of losing friends never truly disappears.
Friendships are among life’s richest blessings, and those formed and
strengthened in youth are especially precious and enduring. The moments we
shared remain vivid and treasured in our hearts.
At this time, we also think of the spouses and families of
our departed friends. They have borne the profound sorrow of loss and the
difficult journey of learning to live without their loved ones. We deeply
admire their strength and are grateful for their continued presence at our
gatherings and reunions. They remain an integral part of our community and will
always be warmly welcomed.
On this day of remembrance, we also honour our teachers at
the Faculty and our clinical tutors at the General Hospital, Colombo. With
generosity and dedication, they guided us in the demanding art of diagnosis,
treatment, and compassionate care. We were especially fortunate to have
Professor O. E. R. Abhayaratne as our Dean — an exceptional teacher, a selfless
mentor, and a fatherly presence to us all.
There were about 160 students in our 1962 batch. I knew some
better than others. With some of them I formed deep bonds and lifelong
friendships. When those friends passed on, they left behind a void that can
never truly be filled. On this Remembrance Day, I would like to honour and
cherish their memory.
Bernard Randeniya
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 (had 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 was held in high esteem in the Health Service as one
of its most colourful and successful managers. He led from the front and
inspired all those who worked with him. His great professionalism was
accompanied by an infectious enthusiasm for life and mischievous sense of
humour. He used his charm and skills of persuasion to obtain expensive
equipment for the Cancer Institute Maharagama to benefit the many patients who
came for treatment. Despite his achievements he was also a modest man,
protective of his privacy, embarrassed by praise and with a deep aversion for
publicity.
In early 1999 when we met up in Colombo, he gave me the sad
news of his illness which proved terminal. I kept in touch with him and admire
the courage which he showed until the very end. He passed away with great
dignity in November 1999 at the age of 58 years. Bernard was a devout Catholic
. His faith gave him great comfort during his final illness.
His cheeky grin and infectious laugh are precious memories
for us all. Bernard was my best friend and I miss him dearly. He was far too
young to leave us.
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 next 6 months,
we were to save lives together. I couldn’t have asked for a better colleague. He
was conscientious, caring and was a kind doctor. I remember it so well on our
first payday when we walked to the Kurunegala Rest House. We sat in its spacious
verandah to enjoy several pints of beer.
He was great company and specially so after a few glasses of
the amber nectar. HN never indulged in hurtful gossip, recrimination or sniping
and had a good word for everyone. His commitment, honesty and dignity touched
all those with whom he worked. It must also be said, HN never stood for any
nonsense and spoke his mind.
Although he was a big burly lad, HN was a ‘softy’ within. I
recall with nostalgia our farewell party after completing internship. There
were many sad goodbyes. On that fateful day as he left us HN got so very
emotional and tearful.
HN became a successful General Practitioner in Hanwella.
The last time I met HN was around 2004. R.S Jayatilleke invited a few batch-mates to
his house for drinks and dinner. HN was broader than before, but he had a full
head of curly hair lightly greying at the edges. He was his usual self, full of
wit and humour. We reminisced our time
together in Kurunegala.
HN passed away peacefully in November 2019 after a brief
illness. I do miss him despite the years.
Sivakumar Vedavanam
We were good friends in the faculty. We became closer working
together In the Blood Bank in Colombo. I recall the many evenings we drifted
towards the Health Department Sports Club to put the world to right. As Medical
Officer in the Blood Bank we travelled to all parts of the island collecting
blood. On those trips he asked me to join him for company. We did have a jolly
good time together.
He was a good friend to me when my life was in turmoil.
During those journeys he showed tremendous kindness to the
PHI’s, attendants and labourers who were part of our team. They all loved him
for his classless friendship and lavish hospitality. He had retained that “Childhood
innocence" of purity, wonder, and lack of cynicism. Veda viewed the world with trust, simple joy
and a belief in goodness. Those were indeed our memorable years.
He qualified in Psychiatry in the UK. I do regret my
inability to connect with him in the UK as he lived just an hour’s drive away
from me.
Sivakumar passed away in 2015. He will be fondly remembered as
a kind, generous and a genuine friend. The planet is a poorer place without him
when he has taken his rightful place in those Elysian Fields.
Razaque Ahamat
We both lived in Wattala and travelled daily by train from
Hunupitiya to Maradana in carriages packed like sardines. Then we sat together
at lectures, weathered the storms of the signatures and endured the hardships
of those clinical appointments. During those years, what stood out was his
helpful kindness, his great sense of humour and his 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 King
George’s Hall at the break of dawn.
Razaque had many stories to tell which he related with a
slight lisp which enhanced the narrative. He said, with a murky smile, he
descended from the Royal family in Penang. If that was indeed fact or fiction,
we will never know just like the other hilarious stories in his repertoire.
Razaque brought happiness to our lives at the faculty when the atmosphere was
stuffy and toxic.
Razaque arrived to our 1962 Batch Reunion in London held in
1994 wearing a Scottish Kilt with all its regalia, typical of the man.
In retirement in Dundee, Scotland he helped to liven up the
Batch Blog with his witty anecdotes and amusing stories.
Razaque passed away peacefully in 2019 after a long illness
bravely borne.
Zita Perera Subasinghe
After the great dispersal from Kynsey Road in 1967, it took
a further 48 years to see Zita again. This time, she was with her husband, Joe.
They both seemed jolly and lively.
Mahendra has kept in touch with Zita, and we all met up at Côte
Brasserie off Oxford Street in London. It was 2015, and we had all retired from
our professional lives. This was a remarkable bonding. There was so much
closeness and intimacy despite the passage of years.
We retraced our lives since medical school. Zita achieved
greatness in her chosen field of Ophthalmology but she remained ever so modest.
I remember the clarity with which Zita related the story of her life, work, and
family to this day. What stood out was how happy she was with her life. Zita
was delightful company, always spoke kindly about people.
There were many occasions when she asked my wife and I to
visit them at Southend-on -sea. But life
then was busy and got in the way. We just couldn’t make it. This we do regret
very much. Zita is one the kindest and
the most genuine persons I’ve met.
Zita passed away peacefully in the United Kingdom in September
2022 after a long illness borne with courage. I still have the book of poems
she wrote at the very end of her life.
Priya Gunaratna
In 1967 we met again in Kurunegala doing those arduous tasks
of internship. She oozed charm and personality. We worked together in the Children's Ward with
the Paediatrician Dr Chandra de S Wijesundera (who later married our batchmate
Manel Ratnavibhushana). There, I got to know Priya more closely, sharing the
on-calls and other onerous tasks of a busy unit. While at work she had the
great ability to remain calm and in control.
She showed tremendous kindness, courtesy and patience
towards the children in her care and also to their worried parents. I recall Priya had great empathy for the
poor, simple rural folk of the wanni who sought our help. She remained a
reliable, unpretentious and hardworking colleague throughout. The passion, integrity, and professionalism
Priya showed during the internship was a beacon for us all. She was indeed a very special person and a
delightful friend to be with.
Priya passed away in Colombo in October 2014 after a long
illness borne with strength, dignity, and fortitude. She touched many lives and
is greatly missed.
Tudor Wickramarachi:
He was rather restless and intense as a medical student. Tudor
always gave as good as he got. I also remember his 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.
He did his internship in Kurunegala and lived in the House
Officer’s quarters which was called ‘Ambaruk Sevana’. This was famous for its
lavish parties and lively music. The songs of C.T Fernando were heard deep into
the night. Whenever I hear CTF songs it
always reminds me of Tudor, singing his heart out.
I visited him when he was DMO Dambulla. Call it ‘oriental
lavishness’, the bottle of amber nectar appeared before I sat down and to this
day that trip remains a blissful memory of a well-lubricated evening.
When we met again in London he was much subdued now 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 suddenly and unexpectedly in Bristol,
UK in August 2016, while doing what he loved best – playing golf. His was a life well lived but sadly taken away
far too soon at the age of 66 years.
Asoka Wijeyekoon alias “Lubber”
He was one of my closest pals and I miss him dearly. We
worked together in the Central Blood Bank. Meeting him even as an octogenarian,
the conversation was always logical and current. He was well-informed. He expressed his views
and opinions without fear or favour and brought a good deal of lateral thought
to any discussion. I sincerely hope one day we will meet again in another
realm.
When I look back the memories of 50+ years, Lubber was a
kind, sociable friend and a unique human being. This is not an attempt to deify
him. He too had the same faults we all possess.
As in his youth Lubber was extraordinarily frank, feared no
one and retained an aura of gravitas from his ‘consultant’ days. He had the
remarkable ability to bring to any discussion a huge degree of intelligence
derived from lateral thinking.
Around 2016 when on a visit to Thailand, I phoned him in
Bangkok. He promptly booked a room in the same hotel as I did. We enjoyed a boys’ evening out and had a
grand time eating and drinking to our hearts content. The last time we met was
in London at his hotel when we enjoyed a sumptuous lunch and a fine chat. It is,
and will always remain, one of the great privileges of my life to have known
him. Perhaps it is au revoir and
not goodbye. I know he will have a lot to say about that, too.
Asoka passed away suddenly in October 2023 on his annual
visit to see his sons in London.
A.Satchithananda
Ever curious, he was cultured as he was intelligent. We
played table tennis and carrom in the faculty Common Room and over cups of tea
put the world to right. He later emigrated to the USA. We were both Apple
Computer buffs. In those early days they were disastrously unreliable beasts.
We tried hard to make sense and keep them working.
Although not a Christian he listened every Christmas to the
Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols sung by the Kings College Choir in
Cambridge on Christmas eve, broadcast at 3pm GMT which he said was a ritual
since his schooldays.
When Satchi was at the height of his fame and success as a
Paediatrician in Wisconsin, he walked away from the profession due to ill
health. His journey through life was filled with sadness and tragedy, but he
always managed to smile and joke with his friends. I remember well his charm
and intellect. We met up in an Indian Restaurant in London in the 1990s and
enjoyed lunch and exchanged gifts. His present to me was a Gorecki’s 3rd
Symphony, a deeply sorrowful piece of work. Understandably, the events of his
painful past and his own illness had a devastating effect on his life and
personality. Despite this, he maintained his dignity and composure, remaining a
loyal friend to the end. He indeed stood above the common herd.
Satchy passed away in August 2011 in Florida, USA
Revelion Drahaman
I first met Revo in 1965 when we were both students at the
Faculty of Medicine in Colombo. It was the Swinging Sixties. Memories of amber
nectar, tall tales and late nights whizz around my head as I recall those years
of long ago. Friendships were made and firmed in the canteen and common room
which was the social hub of the Faculty where laughter was endemic.
Revo started his training with the first batch of students
at Peradeniya and moved to Colombo on a transfer. As our surnames were nearer
the beginning of the alphabet, we did most of the clinical work together. Our
walks on the long corridors to every corner of the General Hospital in search
of patients and knowledge is a memory that has stayed with me. This brought us
closer and the friendship lasted a lifetime. By his dignity and decency, he
brought honour to his school, the profession and his community. This short tribute
is a testament to the caring and integrity which was evident in everything he
did.
Revo was a quiet, thoughtful man and lived a remarkable
life. He was ever so humble about his success and never regarded himself as
someone special. Despite his privileged upbringing, he never lost the common
touch. I consider myself so very fortunate to have met him in my journey
through life. Revo is a gem in a world of pebbles. He has gone before us in the
journey we all must take.
Revo passed away peacefully in Colombo in December 2024
after a prolonged illness bravely borne.
Lakshman Dias Abeygunawardene
I first met Lakshman in the “Block” when we were freshers at
the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo in 1962. Then we both lived in Nugegoda.
There were times he gave me a lift to the faculty in his Honda 50 motor-cycle.
Our surnames being at the beginning of the alphabet we sat near to each other
at lectures, walked the long corridors of the General Hospital together and
worked in the same wards. Friendship blossomed as we did most of the demanding
tasks together for the full five years.
Lakshman loved faculty life more than most and enjoyed it to
the full. He was a fine billiards player. Carrom was his forte. Lakshman was
one of the best players of the game and won the faculty tournament a couple of
times. He was a great follower of the University cricket team and was ever
present at the Sara Trophy games lending his support. Watching Rugby was
another of his passions and never missed an important club game. He was always
there for the Colours Night and Block Night dances at the University’s King
George’s Hall, jiving the night away. Ever-present at the evening booze-ups in
the faculty common room, Lakshman was there to take me home after the event.
Although he enjoyed a drink Lakshman never exceeded the sensible limits he set
for himself. He never smoked. With him good sense always prevailed.
I remember he was always polite and had the great ability to
be calm, discreet and diplomatic. He had the skill to hide his anger so very
well. Beneath his gentle demeanour, Lakshman had a steely core. He was
intelligent and astute and played his cards close to his chest. Lakshman was
never in a hurry to make important decisions which he did after careful
thought. This stood him in good stead throughout his career and in his life.
I last met him in August 2012 when we enjoyed an Indian meal
at the Cinnamon Grand recalling many of those wonderful memories of our time
together. Lucky will be forever remembered for initiating the Batch Blog which
is still a lively forum riding the ether.
Lucky passed away peacefully in Colombo in December 2024
after a long illness borne with characteristic resilience and determination.
J.C Fernando
JC has had a rewarding professional career. We have enjoyed
his company, humanity and joie de vivre. Rarely boring or predictable,
sometimes outrageous, JC was excellent company. He had tremendous enthusiasm
for social events in medical school. Being a fine musician, many of us got to
know JC at social functions. We sang and danced at the memorable and raucous
evening booze-ups in the Men’s Common Room. My abiding memory at these events
is the lithe figure of the ‘Dark Knight’ strumming his guitar, singing in
graphic detail the itchy tale of “the dance of the phthirus pubis”. His
signature song was “Saima cut wela” a tragic tale of a beginner’s hangover and
an effective home remedy. He sang “Suranganee-ta malu genawa”, tempting fate
long before they became a pair!! He capped it all with an enduring contribution
to the Final year trip making the days brighter and the nights merrier.
I last met him with Lucky Abeygunawardene at the SSC club
for dinner in the late 1990’s. Thereafter we exchanged the occasional email. His
was a good life well lived. JC has left fond memories which will be treasured
by many.
J.C passed away in Colombo in April 2023 after a long
illness battled with bravery and fortitude.
S.R De Silva
Sunil came from the upper echelons of society with a strong
academic background but was resolutely down to earth. This showed even in the
way he dressed. He had the remarkable ability to move with equal ease with the
bourgeoisie and the proletariat, a trait inherited from his illustrious uncle
Colvin R de Silva. He made many friends in the faculty and by his very nature
had no enemies. 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.
We were all just out of our teenage years and showed our emotions
easily, but not Sunil. I never saw those moments of sentimentality in him.
Perhaps he masked them skilfully with his distinctive poker face.
He may have a chuckle reading this narrative, wagging his
finger at me. Sunna passed away suddenly and unexpectedly after a road traffic
accident in the USA in 1976.
As the lyrics of a famous song by Billy Joel says “Only the
good die young”
Tilak Dayaratne
During our faculty years, Tilak lived in Homagama. He rode
his red Moto Guzzi, generating noise and elegance in equal measure. He often
took me to Nugegoda, weaving through at high speed the High Level road traffic whilst
I held on to my dear life. 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, within
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.
Tilak passed away in 2012 in Colombo. He is now at peace,
something that eluded him most of his life. May it last forever.
May he attain the Ultimate Bliss of
Nirvana
Ours was the golden era of medical
education in Sri Lanka. Hence, I wish to remember just one person from the
faculty and another from the clinical staff to represent the many who taught us
beyond the call of duty.
Prof. G. H. Cooray – His lectures were precise, authoritative, and comprehensive. Those he
delivered on general pathology and tumours were especially brilliant and deeply
inspiring. Though his old-fashioned demeanour kept him somewhat distant from
students, he was consistently kind and helpful. Prof. Gerald Henry Cooray
passed away in 1970 at the age of 62.
Dr. Darrel Weinman – His ward classes were nothing short of theatrical. He taught us to
recognise clinical signs and approach diagnosis with clear, logical reasoning.
Dr Weinman never subscribed to the toxic culture that often prevailed toward
students. He was one of the finest teachers of our time at the GHC. He passed
away in Sydney, Australia, in 2018 at the age of 89.
(c) Kumar Gunawardane - REMEMBRANCE 2026
In this month of remembrance, we recall with tenderness not only those who are no more, but those who are with us, vibrant and vigorous, a reminder of our own youth and vitality. We must also remember with affection, even those who were like “ ships that pass in the night and speak to each other only in passing”, for they too were part of our band.
There is the sadness of unrequited love, too; cherished ones ascending the ancient wooden terraced steps, passing by in a cloistered car or walking gaily along the endless roofed corridors, making the heart beat faster but to no avail. I consoled myself. “She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies”. Poetry is a powerful healer, and we mustn’t linger long in the caves of despair.
There were also instances of "The Moon and Sixpence." So busy yearning for the moon, that one never saw the sixpence at the feet.
We remember youths with hearts of gold who we wish had eternal life. No one is immortal, but they will remain in our hearts till the end of our days. The laughter, the banter, the double entendres, often expressed with a poker face; the supreme exponent being Sunna, with ‘Lubber’ ( Asoka Wijekoon) following hot on S’s heels. There were sportsmen, who we had to coax to relate their triumphs, and the Lotharios who needed little encouragement to brag of their conquests.
Some who were taken away too soon were sadly amongst the brightest and the best, but we are thankful too that many of the elite are still with us and illuminating the lives of multitudes.
We can take solace in the timeless words of
William Wordsworth
Khalil Gibran
“Ever has it
been said,
Love knows
not its
own
depth,
Until the hour of separation
“
(d) Srianee Dias
Death Is Nothing At All
- By Henry Scott-Holland
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
To those who are still around
These are the last few lines of a poem by Mary Oliver.
The Summer Day
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
(e) Mahendra Gonsalkorale,
I could write about so many wonderful colleagues I have had the pleasure of knowing, and indeed I have done so many times in our Blog. This year, I shall re-post one I did for that unique and exceptional person, Zita Perera Subasinghe. This is what I wrote about her in 2024.
Zita was a truly remarkable person, and it was my great fortune to have known her. If indeed there is anything after death, Zita will surely be in the best possible place.
Her courage and determination in her final illness are a lesson to all of us. She went through a lot of difficult treatments and procedures, not for her sake but for the sake of her husband Joe, and her children. She knew how much her life meant to them, and this gave her the courage to persist and endure. I was firmly convinced that she did not fear death and was prepared to leave with dignity, and in fact, she told me so. But right to the end, her thoughts were on her loved ones and not her.
Her life story is one of devotion - devotion to family, friends, patients, anyone in need and humanity in general. She was moved by the trials and tribulations of others and was always willing not just to step in and help if she could, but to do it in a sincere and loving way without expecting any personal rewards.
She firmly believed that all the good things we do to others and to ourselves must be done while we are alive. Not only did she believe in it, but she also practised it. That is typical of Zita- she practised what she preached.
Zita, we all miss you terribly. May you rest in peace
It was most gratifying to see the number of contributions by colleagues.
Thanks to all of you who commented, and not forgetting the silent majority who accessed our Blog but did not post a comment.
This is the final contribution, and I hope you enjoy the video I created.
Mahendra "Speedy" Gonsalkorale
The time has come again, all too quickly, to pause, reflect on our mortality, and think of our lost colleagues. Since Remembrance Day 2024, we have lost five more of our beloved colleagues. That makes a total of 61 (62 after Nada)out of a total of 166. (There were 166 in the batch, including 11 from Peradeniya). There were 107 gentlemen and 59 ladies (including 4 from Peradeniya).
Those who departed since the last RD are:-
57. Gwendoline (Perera) Herath 28.06.2024
58. Primrose (Jayasinghe) Wijeyewardhena 11.08.2024
59. Rita M G Silva (Alwis) Nov 2024
60. Lakshman Abeyagunawardene. 14.12.2024
61. Revelion (Revo) Drahaman 20.12.2024.
62. Ravi Nadaraja
Please add comments on any of your colleagues for whom you wish to record your appreciation.
"Happiness will never come to those who fail to appreciate what they already have"
“Memories don’t leave like people do; they always stay with you”
"The most important discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart." - Elisabeth Foley.
"Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It's not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything." — Muhammad Ali
“Death ends a life, not a relationship; All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here,” Marie Schwatz.
May they Rest in Peace
We shall forever remember them with fondness and respect.
Please add comments on any of your colleagues for whom you wish to record your appreciation or email me with a contribution which I can add to this post as I have done with ND's article so that we will have a page which will grow progressively.
(2) Respecting our Noble tradition of Remembrance. sent on 12th May 2025
by Nihal
D Amerasekera
The 30th of May has become a special date in our calendar,
known as “Remembrance Day”. This day is dedicated to remembering our friends
who joined the Faculty of Medicine, Colombo in 1962 and have now passed away.
It’s a time to reflect on the wonderful time we shared together and pay our
respects. We can celebrate their lives and be grateful for the time we had.
I am overwhelmed by nostalgia as I reminisce 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. I stepped on the treadmill to carve myself a career
and raise a family. Now having reached the end of my working life I still yearn
for those days even though more than fifty years have passed me by. 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 the hallowed grounds.
The gnawing pain of losing friends never truly eases with
time. Friendships are one of life’s rich gifts, especially those made and
strengthened in youth. They are special and enduring, leaving us with great
sadness but also with fond and unique memories.
At this time, we think of the spouses and families of those
who have passed away. They have faced the 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.
On this special day, we take this opportunity to remember
our teachers in the Faculty and our clinical tutors in the GHC. They generously
imparted their knowledge, teaching us the difficult craft of diagnosis,
treatment, and caring. We were immensely fortunate to have Prof O.E.R
Abhayaratne as the Dean of the Faculty of Medicine. He was an outstanding
teacher, an altruistic mentor, and a father figure to us all.
The five years of hard toil and trauma brought us closer.
Our batch of 159 students demonstrated remarkable unity and loyalty to each
other. The pranks and foibles, especially the risqué jokes, allusions, and
double entendres, come to mind easily. The block concerts, Colours Nights, the
many evening parties in the Men’s Common Room, and the final year trip are
memories we treasure. What we remember now are the good times.
Do make every attempt to keep in touch. There is no better
place than our own hangout in cyberspace – we call the Blog. This is the forum
that unites us. Send your Poems, Paintings and Prose to Mahendra Gonsalkorala to be
published. Comments help to encourage the contributors and keep the Blog alive.
Despite life’s vain tumults, none of us is here forever. Our time will come, and now we are in the grip of events, much of which is beyond our control. Meanwhile, we must enjoy life, family, and friends. Even now, when I smell formalin or ether, I am transported back in time and space to the Faculty at Kynsey Road. Overwhelmed by nostalgia, I still feel a flicker of nerves. Then, a video plays in my mind of friends and life long ago. Ah! Where have those years gone?
More of my memories of departed colleagues (by ND)
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 couldn’t have asked for a better colleague. It was such a pleasure to work with HN as he was conscientious, caring and a kind doctor. I remember it so well on our first payday when we did a long walk to the Kurunegala Rest House after work and enjoyed several pints of beer. This became a regular ritual until he left Kurunegala. He was great company at any time, but more so after the amber nectar. We became closer during the internship. He never indulged in hurtful gossip, recrimination or sniping and had a good word for everyone. His commitment, honesty and dignity touched all those with whom he worked. With HN’s gregarious and affable personality, he had no interest in grumbling and complaining about work or people. He never stood for any nonsense and spoke his mind. This enhanced the respect and his popularity as a person.
Sivakumar Vedavanam
In the Blood Bank, we became closer. I recall the many evenings we drifted towards the Health Department Sports Club to put the world to right and enjoy the amber nectar that flowed so freely. 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 in for company. We did have a jolly good time. During those trips he showed tremendous kindness to the PHI’s, attendants and labourers who were part of the team. They loved him for his classless friendship and lavish hospitality. Those were indeed memorable years. He will be fondly remembered for the work he did for the National Blood Transfusion Service of Sri Lanka 1970-75.
Razaque Ahamat
Because of our surnames, “A”, we sat together at lectures, weathered the storms of the signatures and revisals and endured the hardships of those clinical appointments. We both lived in Wattala and travelled daily by train from Hunupitiya to Maradana in carriages packed like sardines. During those years, what stands out is his helpful kindness, his great sense of humour and his 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 King George’s Hall at the break of dawn.
He had many stories to tell which he related with a slight lisp which enhanced the narrative. He said, with a murky smile, he descended from the Royal family in Penang. Fact or fiction, we will never know just like the other hilarious stories in his repertoire. Razaque brought happiness to our lives at the Faculty when the atmosphere was stuffy and toxic.
Zita Perera Subasinghe
After the great dispersal from Kynsey Road in 1967, it took a further 48 years to see Zita again. This time, she was with her husband, Joe. They both seemed jolly and lively. Mahendra has kept in touch with Zita, and we all met up at Côte Brasserie off Oxford Street in London. It was 2015, and we had all retired from our professional lives. This was a remarkable bonding and there was so much closeness and intimacy despite the passage of years. We retraced our lives since medical school. I remember the clarity with which Zita related the story of her life, work, and family to this day. What stood out was how happy she was with her life. Zita was delightful company, always spoke kindly about people, and there was never a harsh word.
Priya Gunaratna
In 1967 we met again in Kurunegala doing those arduous tasks of internship. We worked together in the Children's Ward with the Paediatrician Dr Chandra de S Wijesundera (who later married our batchmate Manel Ratnavibhushana). There, I got to know Priya more closely, sharing the on-calls and other onerous tasks of a busy unit. While at work she had the great ability to remain calm and in control. She showed tremendous kindness, courtesy and patience towards the children in her care and also to their worried parents. I recall Priya had great empathy for the poor, simple rural folk of the wanni who sought our help. She remained a reliable, unpretentious and hardworking colleague throughout. The passion, integrity, and professionalism Priya showed during the internship was a beacon for us all. She was indeed a very special person.
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 of amber nectar 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.
Asoka Wijeyekoon alias “Lubber”
He was one of my closest pals and one that I miss a great deal. Meeting him even as an octogenarian, the conversation was always current as he was well-informed. He expressed his views and opinions without fear or favour and brought a good deal of lateral thought to any discussion. I sincerely hope one day we will meet again in another realm. Perhaps it is au revoir and not goodbye. I know he will have a lot to say about that, too. When I look back the memories of 50+ years, Lubber was a kind, sociable friend and a unique human being. This is not an attempt to deify him. He too has the same faults we all possess. As in his youth Lubber is extraordinarily frank, fears no one and retained an aura of gravitas from his ‘consultant’ days. He had the remarkable ability to bring to any discussion a huge degree of intelligence derived from lateral thinking. I am ever grateful we were able to meet. It is true we go back to the beginning as we get to the end. It was, and will always remain, one of the great privileges of my life to have known him.
A.Satchithananda
Ever curious, he was cultured as he was intelligent. We played table tennis and carrom in the Faculty Common Room and over cups of tea put the world to right. He later emigrated to the USA. We were both Apple Computer buffs. In those early days they were disastrously unreliable beasts. We tried hard to make sense and keep them working.
Although not a Christian he listened every Christmas to the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols sung by the Kings College Choir in Cambridge on Christmas eve, broadcast at 3pm GMT which he said was a ritual since his schooldays.
When Satchi was at the height of his fame and success as a Paediatrician in Wisconsin, he walked away from the profession due to ill health. His journey through life was filled with sadness and tragedy, but he always managed to smile and joke with his friends. I remember well his charm and intellect. We met up in an Indian Restaurant in London in the 1990s and enjoyed lunch and exchanged gifts. His present to me was a Gorecki’s 3rd Symphony, a deeply sorrowful piece of work. Understandably, the events of his painful past and his own illness had a devastating effect on his life and personality. Despite this, he maintained his dignity and composure, remaining a loyal friend to the end. He indeed stood above the common herd.
Revelion Drahaman
I first met Revo in 1965 when we were both students at the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo. It was the Swinging Sixties. Memories of amber nectar, tall tales and late nights whizz around my head as I recall those years of long ago. Friendships were made and firmed in the canteen and common room which was the social hub of the Faculty where laughter was endemic. Revo started his training with the first batch of students at Peradeniya and moved to Colombo on a transfer. As our surnames were nearer the beginning of the alphabet, we did most of the clinical work together. Our walks on the long corridors to every corner of the General Hospital in search of patients and knowledge is a memory that has stayed with me. This brought us closer and the friendship lasted a lifetime. By his dignity and decency, he brought honour to his school, the profession and his community. This short biography is a testament to the caring and integrity which was evident in everything he did. Revo lived a remarkable life. He was ever so humble about his success and never regarded himself as someone special. Despite his privileged upbringing, he never lost the common touch. I consider myself so very fortunate to have met him in my journey through life. Revo is a gem in a world of pebbles. He has gone before us in the journey we all must take.
Lakshman Dias Abeygunawardene
Lakshman was a quiet man, yet gregarious, always charming. He was well known for his intense loyalty to his friends. His anecdotes, wonderful sense of humour and that ‘wicked’ grin were an integral part his charm. I remember from long ago his courtesy and kind ways which he has carried through all his life. I am greatly privileged to have met him in my life’s journey.”
J.C Fernando
JC has had a rewarding professional career. We have enjoyed his company, humanity and joie de vivre. Rarely boring or predictable, sometimes outrageous, JC was excellent company. He had tremendous enthusiasm for social events in medical school. Being a fine musician, many of us got to know JC at social functions. We sang and danced at the memorable and raucous evening booze-ups in the Men’s Common Room. My abiding memory at these events is the lithe figure of the ‘Dark Knight’ strumming his guitar, singing in graphic detail the itchy tale of “the dance of the phthirus pubis”. His signature song was “Saima cut wela” a tragic tale of a beginner’s hangover and an effective home remedy. He sang “Suranganee-ta malu genawa”, tempting fate long before they became a pair!! He capped it all with an enduring contribution to the Final year trip making the days brighter and the nights merrier. His was a good life well lived, and he has left fond memories which will always be treasured”.
Bernard Randeniya
Bernard was held in high esteem in the Health Service as one of its most colourful and successful managers, and as a man who led from the front and inspired all those who worked with him. His great professionalism was accompanied by an infectious enthusiasm for life and mischievous sense of humour. He used his charm and skills of persuasion to obtain expensive equipment for the Cancer Institute Maharagama to benefit the numerous patients who came for treatment. Despite his achievements he was also a modest man, protective of his privacy, embarrassed by praise and with a deep aversion for publicity.
In early 1999 when we met up in Colombo, he gave me the sad news of his illness which proved terminal. I kept in touch with him and admire the courage which he showed until the very end. He passed away with great dignity in November 1999 at the age of 58 years. Bernard was a devout Catholic . His faith gave him great comfort during his final illness.
His cheeky grin and infectious laugh are precious memories for us all. Bernard was my best friend and I will miss him. He was far too young to leave us.
S.R De Silva
Sunil came from the upper echelons of society with a strong academic background but was resolutely down to earth. This showed even in the way he dressed. He had the remarkable ability to move with equal ease with the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, a trait inherited from his illustrious uncle Colvin R de Silva. He made many friends in the faculty and by his very nature had no enemies. 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. We were all just out of our teenage years and showed our emotions easily, but not Sunil. I never saw those moments of sentimentality in him. Perhaps he masked them skilfully with his distinctive poker face.
He may have a chuckle reading this narrative, wagging his finger at me.
A VIGNETTE ON FRIENDSHIP
“The comfort
of having a friend may be taken away, but not that of having had one” -Seneca.
The image of ND
on his armchair, lingering lovingly on the images of our departed colleagues,
struck a chord deep in my heart. I followed suit, deliberately dwelling on some,
rekindling memories of those joyous days of our youth.
As the poet
memorably said
“Bliss it
was that dawn to be alive,
But to be
young was very heaven”
- William
Wordsworth -
Our hearts were
full of romance, the limbs supple and the gait swift, but we were also
vulnerable, easily hurt and slow to recover. Many of us did bounce back,
however, and reach great heights, bringing acclaim to our entire group.
ND’s image also
reminded me of Buddha’s advice to Ananda, his cousin and attendant, while
residing in the Sakya village of Nagardaka. Ananda, having paid homage to the
Blessed One, said, “Venerable Sir, good friendship, good companionship and good
comradeship are half of the holy life”.
“Not so Ananda
, Not so Ananda , good friendship, good companionship and good comradeship is
the entire holy life. When a bhikku has a good friend, a good companion, a good
comrade, it is to be expected that he will develop and cultivate the Noble
Eightfold Path”.
I affectionately remembered too, our living colleagues and friends, who continue to enliven our lives. I wish them and all their families good health, happiness and peace to the end of their days.
I could have written about so many of our lost colleagues, but I chose to write about Zita on this occasion, as she was a very special person. She had many talents, and she valued friendship so much. A significant reason for the blog to continue to this day was Zita’s enthusiasm for it. The Blog was the vehicle through which I re-established contact with Zita and her lovely family. I have visited them on several occasions, and every time I went, I was greeted with love and affection, not just by Zita and Joe but also by Nisha and Rohan. I felt completely at home and relaxed.
She is without doubt a very special person, a person with whom I have had deep discussions on the nature of life, faith and belief. These are subjects you have to tread carefully with some people, as it can cause misunderstandings, but with Zita, we were totally honest with each other, although we did not always agree. But this is the essence of laudable human nature, to question and disagree while always respecting another view, as surely, we mortals cannot claim to know everything.
Zita was a talented piano player, and her poems were beautifully written. Our blog is filled with many thoughtful and entertaining posts by her.
It was my good fortune and great privilege to have been her friend; her memory will always remain with me.
(7) By Harsha Boralessa
I am posting some fond memories of some of our dear batchmates who are no longer with us.
Thilak Dayaratna: a close and loyal friend, gifted with a beautiful singing voice and immense artistic talent. He was also a keen dancer although he had the tendency to go off beat and tread on his partner’s toes. He got away with it by telling his dancing partners that he was executing the latest moves taught at the Viville de Kauwe School of Dancing. I spent many a Saturday night in his company drinking Lion Lager at the Savoy Hotel, Wellawathe.
Johnny Chandrasiri – very studious and kept meticulous lecture notes. In the last three months of our final year at Medical School Kumar and I invited him to be our unofficial room guest at the Blom. He was a great asset and all of us benefitted immensely from studying together.
He loved COD unaccompanied by ketchup, chips and mushy peas.
Suren Iyer: while I barely knew him as a medical student, we became close friends (a good aiyah) after we emigrated to the UK. He was a caring and competent GP who was much loved by colleagues and patients alike. A very loyal and generous member of the Old Anandians Association in the UK.
Suren and his lovely wife Sweeney were enthusiastic Latin and Ballroom Dancers. I can still picture them doing the rhumba to their favourite Sinhala song Kandula Ithin Samaweyan.
Sue Ratnavel: As with Suren, I barely knew Sue at medical school but got to know her very well in later life as she was a very close friend of my wife Harshi. At medical school Sue was very reserved but much admired. When I got to know her, I found her to be simple and down-to-earth even though she hailed from an affluent family. I particularly enjoyed listening to her speaking fluent Sinhala.
According to my wife, Sue used to sing beautifully. As a medical student in Kandy, Sue played a lead part in the after-dinner sing-alongs in their Hall of Residence. Jail House Rock and and Sloop John B were among two of her favourite songs.
Navan Chinniah was part of our Sig group which consisted of Siri Cassim, Johnny, Lady Chellapa and Chitta. He related funny stories, had a good sense of humour and was always smartly dressed. Following his first class at the third MBBS, he threw a party for 50 of his batchmates at a local Chinese restaurant. We had a sumptuous meal and a great time.