She is sadly gone too soon but her joyous spirit will live on
February 2024 marks six months since Navoda Edirisinghe – ‘Navo’ to her friends at Peradeniya – slipped away in the early hours of the morning. In her brief life, she had endeared herself to many outside her immediate family – her school community, the university, and her work colleagues spanning different spheres of activity and institutions – among others. It is not easy to accept that she is gone, except through conscious remembrance; one is almost prone to start texting her asking ‘how are things?’
I first encountered Navoda in the Department of Economics and Statistics at the University of Peradeniya where I worked, and she was a second year student specializing in Economics. As I got to know her better over time, I found beneath her polite, earnest and shy demeanor, a person capable of hard, consistent effort, with a kindhearted, caring, fun-loving nature. My interactions with her revolved around Department work, both during her student days and when she worked as a Temporary Lecturer.
While initially shy of taking on a public role, she was game to try out compering, and went through a practice session with me before doing a very good job of it. As a leader of discussion classes in courses I taught, she proved conscientious and responsible. When I was away on leave, she provided excellent research assistance. Her ‘crowning glory’ of sacrificial work for the Department was probably providing secretarial assistance for the annual research symposium ‘PIERS’. I remember her working day in and day out – sometimes into the night – disregarding the strain on her eyes.
During her time as a Temporary Lecturer, she was part of a bunch of young colleagues who enjoyed life – putting in the hours of work, but always ready for a respite. The latter included occasional forays to a milk bar close by, in which I sometimes joined. At the bar she was part of a small group who tended to ‘over consume’ the treacle supplied with curd, to the chagrin of the others! And as her colleagues left for other pastures over time, she continued with these visits, referring to herself as my ‘milk bar partner’ in a message to a celebratory volume compiled by my family for my birthday.
When her appointment at Peradeniya was nearing its end, she shared with me her preparations for an application to join the National Human Resources Development Council, including slides to present at an interview, meticulously and thoughtfully prepared. She served several years there and held the post of Research Officer at the time of her passing.
Along with this shift to Colombo, her communications gradually became infrequent. She tended to catch up to share important milestones – the final of which was her graduating with a MBA – or to ask a work-related question. And though these interactions reveal the serious and dedicated side of her nature, she was always ready for a laugh. Few and far between though these updates were, they reinforced in me what I had known for some years; that Navoda was a committed professional.
So when I look back at the years and ponder on the meaning of her life, I’m grateful for having known her. I travel back, as it were to the past, and see different moments as they impacted on her; some challenging, and others joyful. I see her earnestly requesting leave from the university as a student to travel to India for medical attention, and I see the anxiety on her face in dealing with her father’s accident at home. I see her playing games with great competitive enthusiasm during a stay-over with her colleagues at my home, having fun visiting relatives in Matara, joining me along with a friend to attend the wedding of a former colleague in Galle, sharing pictures celebrating her different graduations, and making plans for further study. I remember her as a loyal friend to her work colleagues at Peradeniya, always willing to help out, and joining in at social events.
Hers was a life of quality, shockingly cut short, and she will be missed for all time. Surely she is among the stars which fill the night sky, her spirit never extinguished, but ever joyful and ever rejoicing.