A man of charisma and large heart
Abetting my brother and I in our childhood pranks, my grandfather, our aatha, was not the typical conservative grandfather who would turn pages of a storybook for us. He was much too revolutionary for that. Instead, he allowed his two grandchildren, the apples of his eye, to liberally sip off his cup of midday inguru plain tea and feast on roasted cashew with him, whilst turning before them a book of life!
I cannot recall a single day when the open verandah of our ancestral home in Madapatha was not full of crowds in the morning. Often keeping my brother and I beside him, he drilled into us, young we may have been, the art of moving with ‘kings and yet not losing the common touch’. His home tucked away amidst herbs and fruit trees galore, was as open as his persona- the doors were open till late in the night and any unexpected guest, welcome at any hour.
My grandfather was of a stock which breeds seldom now. Bidding adieu to his untainted political career ‘prematurely’ as many said, he sought his pleasures among the simple folk of Madapatha. Although largely devoid of the political circuses of today, he found the trials and tribulations of a new political culture unfolding even then, contrary to the integrity and values his school championed.
Winning the Kesbewa elector- ate with a mandate, still recalled by many as an index of his popularity as a true ‘people’s man,’ he lobbied for the betterment of ‘his people’. His devotion to the common man transcended political parties, race or social standing. He gave a much needed facelift to the Piliyandala town, spearheading scores of social welfare schemes including the improvement of infrastructure and acquisition of lands for schools, hospitals and social welfare causes such as the SOS Children’s Village serving so many even today. His kind of politics was oblivious to chicanery, so much so that like many of his forefathers, aatha gifted generously from his ancestral properties to larger causes of society. Seeing schools, hospitals, libraries and playgrounds built on such property made him a contented man.
A descendant of the illustrious Attygalle clan of physicians, aatha was blessed with the ‘healing touch’. Only a bulath hurulla was exchanged as a token of appreciation. In keeping with the family legacy, he took pains to revive ayurveda in his capacity as the Minister of Indigenous Medicine of the Jayewardene regime. At home, lunuwila, heen bowitiya and thembu kola were part of our everyday life.
His mettle as a man devoted to social betterment was extended to diplomatic service upon his retirement from active politics. Despite the adventurous globetrotter he was, aatha was rooted to this land. He derived immense pleasure from a simple, rustic way of life. For him any occasion would do for merriment. Replete with wit and an unfailing sense of humour, he could turn any ordinary, mundane hour to a frolicking time. His exceptional hospitality coupled with that extra spice of ‘good humour’ could make anybody feel at home in his jovial company.
A charismatic man with a large heart and a beautiful smile, my grandfather lived a full life in a style of his own. Aatha, your eventful life reminds me of the Great Bard’s words in Julius Caesar: His life was gentle, and the elements so mix’d in him that nature might stand up and say to all the world, This was a man… Randima Attygalle
(Grand-daughter)