Our ride into the sunset - Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

Our ride into the sunset 

by Dr Nihal D Amerasekera 

“Media vita in morte sumus” - In the midst of life, we are in death. This is the first line of a Gregorian chant circa 1300. This rings true now as it did all those years ago. Presently, we battle through our lives in the midst of numerous perils and pitfalls. For octogenarians like myself, in the autumn of our lives, there are many other risks just around the corner. 

At any age, we all lust for longevity. Although we all will face it someday, our aversion to talk about death is universal. This is partly due to the fear of the unknown and also not wanting to tempt fate. During my childhood, grim legends were abound, and tales were told of death, devils and the darkness of hell. These daunting images continue to colour my thoughts even now. It is true there is little point in talking about death when we are young and healthy. The scene changes irrevocably when we become octogenarians. This is the time to bite the bullet and face reality while still able to enjoy the good life. 

Life expectancy has risen considerably in our lifetime. Perhaps, professionally, we have helped to make this happen. In the United Kingdom, the life expectancy for men is 79 and for Women 82. Living longer has many benefits. It is indeed so wonderful to see our own grandchildren grow-up and perhaps also to see their children too. But there is a price to be paid while the years take their toll on us. The sudden deaths that took away our parents and our grandparents don’t happen anymore. We just live longer. Our bodies continue to wither away as the years pass. A fistful of tablets and an earful of advice keep us going. The joints continue to creak and the backaches as we trundle along. I can feel the gradual decline and the loss of energy as the months' pass. I am not as steady on my feet as I was last year. Gravity is gradually trying to take over when I walk or try to maintain my erect posture for long. These issues that are rather trivial now will only get worse with time. If I live long enough, I will need help with walking, feeding and ablutions. This may be with a carer at home or in an institution. This requires careful thought and judicious planning. 

Life must have an end. A rapid exit is everyone’s dream. Unlike for the previous generations, the end for us may not be swift. Cancers or degenerative nervous diseases like strokes, dementia and Parkinsonism are some of the common ways to exit this world. Departing this life is never pleasant. Then again, we will need help in the way of a carer or be confined to an institution. These issues need careful planning now, when we are compos mentis. Importantly, the family should be consulted. They must be aware of our choices that may have significant financial implications. We must remember it is their pain and burden too. They must have the information to discuss with us the feasibility of our plans. 

To plan ahead, we must make an informed choice. For this, the doctors must provide us with the information with honesty. Thankfully, in the new millennium, the conceit and the patronising pomposity that existed in the medical profession has largely melted away. This has resulted in far better rapport between the doctor and the patient. When confronted with a terminal illness, we need to know the prognosis, the positive and negative implications of treatment and also of having no treatment. It is invaluable to weigh up the implications of a range of alternatives, some of which may be “off the menu”, before making a choice. 

It is wise to leave written instructions as to our care, including treatments we do not want to have. This is legally binding and is called the Advance Decision to Refuse Treatment (A living will). I know some have instructions not to be resuscitated. Some want all treatment stopped, including antibiotics. We can also allow someone else to make the decisions for us when we can’t. This is called the Legal Power of Attorney. Some cancer patients do not want any treatment. They do not wish to prolong life, not wanting the stress and struggle of radiotherapy and chemotherapy and its many unpleasant side effects. It is imperative that the doctor discuss the quality of life on treatment. Many others show great resilience and courage in continuing and completing the treatment schedule and we respect their choice. 

If terminally ill I should have the right to end my life. This issue has come into prominence in the UK in several high-profile cases of Motor Neurone Disease and Multiple Sclerosis that went to the Supreme Court. Adequate safeguards must be built in for this. In the UK, there has been a shift in common morality for euthanasia and assisted suicide, both of which are illegal under English law. Some go to Dignitas in Switzerland, a place for assisted suicide, to end their lives. Ending one’s life is the last resort. The National Health Service provides good palliative care as well as providing psychological, social and spiritual support. 

The answers to the many questions that arise and the solutions to the many problems that surface will vary according to our personal circumstances. It is paramount that the wishes of the patients and their relatives are respected. I am merely raising awareness to a common problem we will all face sooner or later. As I write I know of 90-year-olds, like Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh, who are still smiling, enjoying life and their families. But they are no doubt in the minority. Some may still have the old fashioned, laid-back and carefree attitude thinking “Que sera sera” Whatever will be will be!! This may just leave our loved ones in the dark about an issue which may be long and protracted and financially draining. 

Making that final journey to exit from this world is something we must all do in the fullness of time. This challenging journey may take from a few days to a few months. Professional medical input is vital during this period to remain free of pain and to receive psychological support. We must leave behind the sadness and regrets of the past, taking with us only those happy and joyful memories. In the lonely waking hours, one may wish to walk with God for comfort and support or focus the mind on meditation and mindfulness. Some receive comfort from the “Mozart effect” of listening to soothing classical music. There is a lot of helpful advice available from professionals, carers and institutions to reach that final destination with dignity. 

As much as there is no holding back the night, there is no hope of a second dawn. I feel we leave this earth never to return again. I seek the wisdom of that great Roman Poet Horace "NON OMNIS MORIAR" (Not all of me will die). Our children and grandchildren are shaped by the genes they inherit from us. They smile and laugh like us and even may think like us at times. They will carry our baton into the future. 

There is never a good time to discuss our end of life and the funeral arrangements. But it must be done. It is only then our loved ones will know what we want. 

As octogenarians, our minds are much calmer now. There is no burning ambition or desire to chase money or position. We have done our caring for our progeny. Once we have made our choices for our parting it is so important we must return to our regular routine. It serves no purpose to dwell on death and dying. We will deal with it when it comes. It is so true we will not pass this way again. So enjoy the beauty of nature, the birds and the bees and the company of family and friends.  It is only then we can sing that famous song “Que sera sera”. 

Here are my best wishes for a happy and peaceful journey's end with poise and dignity.

 

More paintings by Nihal D Amerasekera

 More paintings by Nihal D Amerasekera

(1) The Lighthouse in Galle is the oldest in Sri Lanka and, at present, is maintained by the Sri Lanka Ports Authority. The first lighthouse at Galle was built by the British in 1848. In July 1936 it was destroyed by fire. The current Lighthouse was built by the British in 1939. It lies within the Galle Fort which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site

(2) Hakgala. Hakgala is a mountain situated in the Nuwara Eliya district of Sri Lanka at 2,169 m (7,116 ft) above mean sea level, most parts of the mountain are covered with forest belonging to Hakgala Strict Nature Reserve. Hakgala Botanical Garden is situated on the northeastern slope of the Hakgala Mountain. The southwestern side of the mountain has a wet climate compared to the northeastern slope since the southwestern part faces directly to the southwest Monsoon.

(3) The Nine Arch Ella Bridge

It is located in Demodara, between Ella and Demodara railway stations. The bridge was designed to accommodate a challenging nine-degree curve and steep gradient. Built entirely by local labour under British supervision, the construction faced significant logistical challenges, including difficult terrain and material transport. It was Completed in 1919.

(4) Koslanda. During the period of colonial rule, British planters found that the climate of the Hill Country could be too chilly at times, and the low country was too hot most of the time. But between the high hill country of Bandarawela and the low country of Wellawaya and Hambantota, they found that Koslanda at 700 meters elevation has a climate that is never too hot and never too cold, but just right.

(5) Peak District. The Peak District is an upland area in central-northern England, at the southern end of the Pennines. Mostly in Derbyshire, it extends into Cheshire, Greater Manchester, Staffordshire, West Yorkshire and South Yorkshire. It has several historic castles.

THE ANNUAL LONDON BATCH REUNION 2025. Organised by Pram

THE ANNUAL LONDON BATCH REUNION: 2025. Organised by Pram.

Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

The annual reunion of the batch of 1962 was held on the 4^th of July at the iconic Royal Society of Medicine in London. Pram couldn’t have chosen a better venue than the RSM founded in 1907 and moved to the present site in 1910. With Its pristine location, elegant façade and the luxury and grandeur of the glorious interior, the RSM is fit for Royalty.

Pramila was in her elegant best, busy as the mistress of ceremonies. As always, she has been the catalyst to bring us all together. With her charm and gentle arm twist, who could refuse to attend? Pram brought with her some warm sunshine making our journeys easier and the ambience happy and lively.

Some arrived earlier than others to be seated in the dining area where the chat began. As everyone trickled in we moved to our exclusive dining room which was most elegantly decorated for this our special occasion. We chatted away amidst the grace and sophistication of this beautiful room. We looked beyond the grey hairs, the lines and furrows in our faces and the extra pounds to embrace our friends from way back. After the warm greetings and handshakes, we sat down for lunch.

There was never a dull moment. The chatter started straight away, and the conversation flowed freely as we shared our favourite anecdotes and recollections of our faculty experiences. Susheila and Harshi were in good form relating hilarious stories about their time as interns at the GHC. We were so happy to have Indrani Subramaniam’s daughter Rosemarie and granddaughter Maria to attend the function. Harshi and Harsha Boralessa have been regulars at our meetings and, as always, wonderful company. I took the opportunity to catch up with Harsha. Rupa and Susil Attale decided to grace us with their presence all the way from Farnborough. Sirima and Sunil too are regulars at our meetings in London. Ranjith and Hemantha Kariyawasam are welcome newbies to our London Reunion. We hope they will return. Shanthi Nalliah has been a regular at these meetings. She always has her own brand of amusing stories, and it was so lovely to see her. Sunil and Sirima too contributed generously to the fun of the occasion. We thank David and Malkanthi Anthonisz for attending the event. They are such a friendly couple. We do sincerely hope they will continue to grace the London Reunion.

We remembered fondly our absent friends and also some who have now departed this world. There was a tinge of sadness as we remembered friends.

This was a great occasion and a nostalgic one, which we all enjoyed. There was that customary photo shoot. The RSM gave us an opportunity to savour the atmosphere of an institution that traces its roots to Edwardian times. After a sumptuous meal and delightful company, it was sad to say goodbye. Every reunion has its own lesson to impart, and we come away deeply grateful to our wonderful organiser, Pram, for giving us an experience we would treasure. Pram was also our marvellous hostess without whom none of the London reunions would have happened. We hope she will enjoy the Wimbledon Final. We all wish her a safe journey home. May you come again to bring us all together.

Tidbits for the week, Srianee Dias

Tidbits for the week

Srianee Dias 

The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that it has never tried to contact us.” – Bill Watterson 

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned that pleasing everyone is impossible, but pissing everyone off is a piece of cake. 

I’m responsible for what I say, not what you understand. 

Common sense is like deodorant. The people who need it the most never use it.

My tolerance for idiots is extremely low these days. I used to have some immunity built up, but obviously there’s a new strain out there. 

It’s not my age that bothers me, it’s the side effects. 

I’m not saying I’m old and worn out, but I make sure I’m nowhere near the curb on trash day 

As I watch this generation try to rewrite our history, one thing I’m sure of .. it will be misspelled and have no punctuation. 

As I’ve gotten older, people think I’ve become lazy. The truth is I’m just being more energy efficient. 

I haven’t gotten anything done today. I’ve been in the Produce Department trying to open this stupid plastic bag.

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If you find yourself feeling useless, remember it took 20 years, trillions of dollars, and four U.S. presidents to replace the Taliban with the Taliban. 

It turns out that being a ”senior” is mostly just googling how to do stuff. 

I want to be 18 again and ruin my life differently. 

God promised men that good and obedient wives would be found in all corners of the world. Then he made the earth round…and laughed and laughed and laughed. 

I’m on two diets. I wasn’t getting enough food on one. 

I put my scale in the bathroom corner and that’s where the little liar will stay until it apologizes.

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My mind is like an internet browser. At least 19 open tabs, 3 of them are frozen, and I have no clue where the music is coming from. 

Hard to believe I once had a phone attached to a wall, and when it rang, I picked it up without knowing who was calling. 

Apparently, RSVP-ing to a wedding invitation “Maybe next time” isn’t the correct response. 

She says I keep pushing her buttons. If that were true, I would have found “Mute” by now. 

So, you’ve been eating hot dogs and McChickens all your life, but you won’t take the vaccine because you don’t know what’s in it? 

Sometimes the Universe puts you in the same situation again to see if you’re still a dumbass.

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There is no such thing as a grouchy old person. The truth is, once you get old you stop being polite and start being honest. 

Performance isn’t there, but desire is overwhelming. 

I used to think that drinking was bad for me...so I gave up thinking. (added by MG)

Srianee- "I enjoyed reading it hence sharing with some dear old friends—grouchy ones included!! Have a laugh and enjoy the weekend".

Please feel free to add your ones

A Book Review by Srianee Dias.

A Book Review by Srianee Dias.

This is going to hurt by Adam Kay 

While browsing through the selection of books available to me on Kindle Unlimited, this intriguing title caught my eye: “This is Going to Hurt” by Adam Kay.  I had never heard of Adam Kay, so on reading the reviews and the blurbs, I found out that the book had been a multimillion-copy best seller, written by a real doctor in the NHS in the UK.  It was described as being “blisteringly funny” by the Boston Globe, and “heartbreaking” by the New Yorker.  It sounded interesting enough for me to download and start reading.

The subheading on the title page says “Secret diaries of a young doctor.”

The format was unusual, because it was based on his real diary entries, and it is a series of anecdotes. Adam Kay records his life as he progresses in OB/GYN from House Officer, multiple posts as Senior House Officer, multiple posts as Registrar  and then finally Senior Registrar. At the beginnig of the chapters he explains the responsibilities each post entails.

Most of the anecdotes end with a funny observation and I found myself laughing out loud!  Really loud!  He describes his relationships with the consultants and his other colleagues.  We can all relate to his nights on call, and the last minute changes in plans with family and friends.  Because he is Jewish, he had to work every Christmas holiday.  He spent many hours in the hospitals which strained his personal relationships.  We don’t hear too much about his personal life, because this, after all, is about the life of a young doctor.

 Some of the stories are quite touching, and it is easy to see that Adam Kay is a sensitive young doctor. He describes how he would visit the special care nursery on his way home if any of the babies he delivered ended up there. He felt the need to check on their progress.

Both his parents are physicians as well as many other relatives. It is possible that he drifted into choosing medicine as a career without too much thought.  During his stint as a Senior Registrar he finally realizes that he is not cut out to be a doctor. 

He is now a screen writer and author.

This book was quite engaging and entertaining. The author uses a fair amount of slang (he attended medical school after all!) as well as many British medical acronyms that were unfamiliar to me.  I feel that this book would appeal mostly to those in the medical field, although there were many appreciative reviews by readers.

I hope that some of the readers of this blog will try to get their hands on a copy of this book or download it.  (It may be difficult to find in Sri Lanka.)

Prof Sanath Lamabadusuriya awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award in Paediatrics

Great news about a Distinguished Batchmate

Prof Sanath Lamabadusuriya awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award in Paediatrics

On Sunday, the 8th of June 2025, at the Inauguration of the Sri Lanka College of Paediatricians Annual Conference, Sanath was honoured by being presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award and induction to the Hall of Fame. We are all very proud of his achievements. 

On behalf of our batch, Congratulations, Sanath!

Medicare Health Excellence Award 2025 (From a post by Medicare on Facebook Book)

"We are honoured to present the Lifetime Achievement Award in Paediatrics to Prof. S. P. Lamabadusuriya, a true icon in medical education and child healthcare. His exceptional contributions have shaped Pediatric education and Medical education in Sri Lanka, having trained thousands of doctors and established multiple medical schools.

Prof. S. P. Lamabadusuriya is an Emeritus Professor and an icon in the field of paediatrics, whose contributions have left an indelible mark on medical education and child healthcare in Sri Lanka.

He has received numerous distinctions in paediatrics and has trained thousands of doctors, many of whom now serve with distinction across the globe. His efforts have also led to the establishment of multiple medical schools, further advancing paediatric education in the country.

Notably, he was the first person in Sri Lanka to obtain a PhD in Paediatrics from London and also the first Sri Lankan to be honoured with an MBE (Member of the Order of the British Empire) in 1991. Additionally, he holds the unique distinction of being the first Sri Lankan domiciled in the country to receive an MBE from the Queen of England.

His dedication and leadership have extended across four major medical faculties. He is an Emeritus Professor of Paediatrics and a former Dean of the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Colombo.

He was the Founder Professor of Paediatrics at the University of Ruhuna and later served as a Senior Professor at the Rajarata University of Sri Lanka. Additionally, he played a key role as a consultant in the establishment of the Faculty of Medicine at Sabaragamuwa University of Sri Lanka.

He has treated millions of children in Sri Lanka and abroad. From the outset, he was a key pillar of the medicare exhibition and seminar programs. Further solidifying his legacy in the field of medicine and education".

Memories: Nihal D Amerasekera

Memories: By Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

Memory, all alone in the moonlight
I can smile of the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again  

- From the popular musical CATS by Andrew Lloyd-Webber -

As an only child, I have always been a dreamer. I enjoyed my own company. Retirement gave me the luxury of free time to think, reflect and delve into the archives of my memory. When I need solitude, solace and sanctuary my rocking chair has become my silent companion. The chair must have some magic to bring peace to my soul. There are times I reflect lazily on the twists and turns of my life, and there were many. It is a perfect posture to meditate, ruminate and cogitate. I am partial to a glass of wine to help lubricate my thoughts.

Memories of Sri Lanka where I grew up are always with me. What stands out is my deep and lasting gratitude to my country for giving me the education at school and University. I couldn’t have had a better education anywhere else in the world. It is some comfort and consolation that I worked as a doctor for 7 years in Sri Lanka.

My mind often returns to our ancestral home in Kegalle. My earliest recollection of this remarkable abode is of the late 1940’s. Ashley Hall, as it was called, was built on the side of a hill and was akin to an English Manor House. This dignified house was hidden away from the road by a tall well-trimmed Hibiscus hedge. There was a lovely, manicured lawn in front. The elegant rose garden evoked a sense of romance, beauty, and serenity. Even now whenever I smell roses it takes me back to those happy times. The lounge was beautifully carpeted and had a couple of chandeliers and a grand piano. It was a standard ritual to gather round the radio in the evenings. Amidst the hiss and the crackle, we listened to the Ashes cricket via the BBC World Service. There was a His Masters Voice (HMV) winding gramophone which played 78 RPM vinyl records. That was a symbol of affluence in those days. I have always considered Ashley Hall as my spiritual and ancestral home.

After moving to England, it was not until 1988 when I revisited Ashley Hall again. With the passage of years, the older folk had passed away. The young owners had moved away to the metropolis.  Ashley Hall was rented to a Government Department. It was sad to see the house and garden in such decline. The turf had been dug up and the roses were gone. As I stepped into the house, there was an all-pervading eerie silence. It broke my heart to see the dereliction. The caretaker took us round. It was all too much for me. I told the man I spent my childhood there. He seemed to know the past too. The caretaker has seen apparitions in the house and hears music and voices at night. They all say that of old houses. Many yesterdays of my youth are buried in Ashley Hall.

As a teenager I was an avid reader of the Doctor series of books authored by Richard Gordon. He glamorised the lives of young doctors beyond measure. The story was focused on the trials of medical students at St Swithin’s hospital, London, taught by the egocentric and irascible chief surgeon Sir Lancelot Spratt. As I look back, although ‘Doctor in the House’ was a part comedy, there were many similarities to our lives at medical school. It is hard to quantify how much of this flashy and enchanting depiction of a doctor’s life influenced me to take up medicine as a career.

The University Entrance examination for entry into medicine was one of the toughest of all tests. I like to think only the very best cleared the hurdle and those who were successful were the crème de la crème!!

My life changed forever as I entered the Faculty of Medicine in Colombo. Much of 1962 remains a haze. I recall with great nostalgia that life then was a dream. It was hard to handle the adulation and keep my feet on the ground. I developed a sinister arrogance and an assured sense of entitlement. I dreamed of living happily ever after. But life always has ways to bring us back to reality!! The rest as they say is history.

Ours was the golden age of medical education in Sri Lanka. The General Hospital Colombo (GHC) with its iconic long corridors was our workshop where we learnt our trade. I feel greatly privileged to have been taught by some remarkable teachers. It was indeed a hard grind. The tough life gave us self-reliance, confidence, grit and determination. The great heights our batch-mates have reached in almost every sphere of medicine reflect on the quality of teaching we received. 

Those were our formative years, and we were all in it together. The common room was the social hub of the faculty. It was also our retreat and shelter from the storms of faculty life. I still remember with nostalgia the booze, the baila and the bawdy songs at those parties in the Men’s Common Room. Our sojourn in the faculty ended with the final year trip. After being wined and dined most lavishly by medics we returned to Colombo with croaky voices and sore heads. Those wonderful few days of merrymaking will never be forgotten. In 1967 came our great dispersal. We started our internships that went as swiftly as a hurricane. We then began the enormous task of building our careers. 

Politically the country was in turmoil. “Go West young man” was the mantra that appealed to many. The country’s sagging economy did not give us much faith or hope. One of the greatest triumphs in life is to pursue one's dreams. Many dispersed far and wide in search of work and opportunity. Those who left the country entered the Darwinian struggle of survival of the fittest. 

I was one of the few in our batch that didn’t want to leave Sri Lanka. My aim was to be a DMO far away from the big city. The Department of Health in their wisdom, gave me a post in the Central Blood Bank, Colombo. Although these were considered as dead-end jobs, its attraction was the luxury of being in Colombo. This great institution then became the centre of my universe.  I accepted its quirks, idiosyncrasies and oddities as a part of working life. Here, I was happy to be close to my parents. 

This was also a time of great turmoil in my life. I recall with overwhelming sadness the personal problems that made me run away from the country of my birth. For a time, I was a drifter and found solace in the Health Department Sports Club. On evenings, there were many regulars who joined me. We talked politics, philosophy, careers and a multitude of other fascinating subjects. Those discussions were made immensely compelling by the amber nectar. I did value their friendship. 

The qualifying examination for physicians is the Membership of the Royal College of Physicians (MRCP). Holding the part 1 of this examination for the first time in Colombo gave me the impetus to study again. With great difficulty I buckled down to some hard study. With my personal problems behind me I looked for a fresh start to my life and a change of environment. I left Sri Lanka to complete my part 2 of the MRCP. I was successful in the examination much sooner than I thought. This changed my outlook and gave me a new life.

It was in 1960 that Edith Piaf sang “Non, je ne regrette rien” (No regrets). She did so with so much passion and feeling. But regrets, sadly, are a part of life. I still have deep regrets for not being there for my parents in their time of need. I do miss my extended family in Sri Lanka enormously and have paid a heavy price for my desire to live and work abroad. I wasn’t present for the births, weddings and deaths of those most dear to me. I am now a stranger to the new generation born during my absence. I feel a foreigner in the country of my birth as Sri Lanka has moved forward in leaps and bounds, despite the destructive forces of a long ethnic conflict and the endless economic crises. Although I live happily in England, I have left my heart in that beautiful island of my birth and the land of my fore-fathers.

Meanwhile in London, I chose to become a Radiologist. After my arduous training I found a job in a leafy suburb in rural Hertfordshire. My wife and I moved into a brand-new house and we became its first occupants. We created a little "Walawwa", far from the madding crowd. The backyard that was a muddy patch was converted to a fine lawn. Elegant flowerbeds gave us colour all year round. As the years rolled by, I spent many long summer evenings seated in the garden sipping wine and allowing my thoughts to drift into those happy times of my childhood.

Chiu was born in Hong Kong and arrived in England before me to complete her training. It is said marriages are made in heaven. Perhaps they are, but we live our lives on this earth surrounded by disputes, disagreements and difficulties in amongst a great deal of love, laughter and contentment. Chiu and I have managed to be together for 49 years. Our cultures could not be more divergent. We spoke different languages and ate different food. As is often said, marriage is a compromise - and we both had to change, and we did. Our differences strengthened our relationship. We have given life to our boys, bringing them up the best way we knew. Our love for them made many of our differences melt away. Chiu is a loving wife, mother, grandmother and friend to many - and much, much more.

When Steve and Andrew were babies, Chiu was a wonderful mother. She still is. The love, care and attention, given at all times of the day and night, remain so fresh in my mind. I remember the deep love that Chiu showed the boys when they were babies - helpless, mewling, and puking in her arms. I still can feel the warmth of those melodious Chinese lullabies Chiu sang to them, as they fell asleep. Thinking about parenthood brings back a spectrum of emotions and a myriad of memories. Although this happened only a couple of decades ago, it is like being caught up in a reverie of times now long gone.

My professional career and the children’s education took precedence. My wife gave up her own career as a Nursing Sister to care for the kids. She ferried them to school and back. Children’s activities usurped our time and energy. Both boys worked hard to complete their education at Cambridge University. Their success was our joy which we recall with great delight.

Chiu and I have travelled the world together and been to every continent. Wherever we went on holiday it was our ritual to bring back a memento. A collection of those adorned the mantelpiece and the windowsills. Reading has been my joy since I was a kid, a habit which has passed on to my offspring. The resultant collection was a fine library. Computers have been my hobby. Apple Macs whirred away deep into the night. Their detritus filled every corner of my study.

When the children left home we had an empty nest. A "Walawwa", however magical it may sound, is not the place for an ageing couple in their retirement. Keeping such a place in good shape even with help is tiring and time consuming. Moving to live in a smaller space is euphemistically called downsizing. We took the hard decision to move into a small apartment just enough for the two of us. It is often said moving house is as traumatic as a divorce. I wouldn’t disagree. Downsizing helps to concentrate one’s mind to what is important in life. Much of what we owned were given away to charities. We come into this world with nothing, and we leave with nothing. What happens in between is a journey and its memory evaporates into thin air as it ends. After all the next move, will be our final rest.

London is a place of fun, which we can still enjoy. Visits to the museums, galleries, concerts and the theatre fills our time with joy. It is said if you are tired of London you are tired of life - how very true. There is so much on offer.

It was more through luck than judgment I found my nest for life. Living in an apartment requires a different mindset. The block is a community, although not a close one. Everyone is busy with their own lives. We hardly know our neighbours. There are house rules - some written and others implied. There are also civic and social responsibilities. We must respect others’ privacy while sharing the space. Looking through the window at night, I see the geometrically arranged lights of the surrounding blocks. This creates its own beauty. Each light represents people with their own lives, joys and sorrows - all a part of the rich tapestry of life.

Que Sera Sera - Whatever will be will be. Since Doris Day sang this song in the Alfred Hitchcock film of 1956 its poignant lyrics have stayed with me for its glaring honesty of the uncertainties of life. I have often attributed this curious twist of fate to the awesome force of destiny. This my narrative ends as I started, reaching for my glass of wine to end my day dizzy and delightful.