I have lost my mentor, confidant and more importantly friend

Some people come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts and we are never the same….

To me, one of the foremost among them was Lionel Gunatilleke Jr., retired Deputy Inspector General of Police (DIG). When his daughter Vindya told me he was no more, I was in shock. I knew he was not in the best of health, yet it was painful. As a Police Officer, I have lived a life, where he guided me in no small measure. He was my mentor and a repository of great knowledge. He shaped the growth of my career and stood tall as a professional.

My association with him began at the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) where he was originally the Director. I was a young officer learning my skills as an investigator under his tutelage. Over the passage of time, he taught me to do the right thing and admonished me when I erred.

He rose to the rank of DIG in the CID which acquired the reputation of a more professional, disciplined and efficient investigative arm of the Police.

I still remember the day he was leaving the CID where I had the privilege of ushering him out of his office. To my utter surprise he was cheerfully walking out of his office carrying just a briefcase. I asked him ‘Sir, is this all you have to take back?’ He very smilingly said that it was only his pen and writing pad inside the bag which he brought when he came but he was carrying a bag full of everlasting memories gathered during his tenure at the CID.

Lionel Gunatilleke hailed from a very reputable family, and followed the footsteps of his late father and late brother Nimal Gunatilleke who both were outstanding policeman who did yeoman service. He joined the Police Service as a probationary Sub Inspector of Police on January 1.1970 and retired on August 28, 2007 after serving for a period of 37 years.

Lionel was a family man who loved his wife Maheshi very much. He wanted to spend a peaceful retirement and never wanted to be a burden to anyone. He was hale and hearty until the sudden demise of his beloved wife from which he did not recover -his wish was to join hands with her at the earliest. He was always a humble, selfless individual. His final and main wish was to conduct his last rites as quickly as possible.

It is not that common at this stage of our careers to have professors who shape our intellect and life in general. But my mentor did that. While we were originally brought together for academic and official purposes, I soon began to learn from his views and perspectives and his wealth of knowledge. That will always be fundamental to my understanding of the world. We would talk about anything from history to the present and that of a criminal to criminality.

He was devoid of prejudices. In fact he always had a better story about whatever particular situation. We’d laugh, and then he would give me more advice. I hope and wish that everyone, when such people cross their paths, never take people like my mentor for granted. I certainly never did, and never will. “You carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.” Losing someone we love is not easy, but knowing that we have been able to be a part of the life of that person, will make us realize that we are blessed to have been able to share their lives.

His children lost a loving father, the grandchildren lost their hero “Seeya” and I have lost my mentor, confidant and mostly friend. May he attain the noble bliss of Nibbana.

Ravi Waidyalankara