He was truly a people’s person
He had it all- charisma, wit, unmistakable sense of humour and a large heart. My grandfather, our aatha embraced life with such gusto that he lived each moment to the fullest. The open verandah of our ancestral home in the rustic setting of Madapatha still mourns him. His home was rendered his character- simple and open. It is silent today, sans meetings of all kinds- political, social and much more.
While those sought a piece of his mind or his healing touch in exchange for only a
bulathhurulla, I watched him, the little girl I was, seated on the short wall skirting his open public area, in wonderment, of the electrifying effect he had on people from all walks of life. Anybody who met him once would remember him for a lifetime.A man of style, who would not compromise quality, aatha was impeccably groomed, refined in taste.
His love for people was his hallmark. An arm around anybody’s shoulder would come spontaneously to him, even after his untainted political career. The sea of people who joined us to see him going on his final journey, those who lovingly captured his life in the printed word, mourning his departure even at a time he had given up all offices - political and diplomatic, spoke for the place he had in people’s hearts.
Winning the Kesbewa electorate 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 party politics 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 which continue to serve the people even today. Like many of his forefathers, my grandfather gift- ed generously from his ancestral properties to larger causes of society.
A descendant of the illustrious Attygalle clan of physicians, aatha was blessed with the ‘healing touch’. 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, the first to hold this seat. For him it was a labour of love to see the Department of Ayurveda flourish.
As a grandfather, aatha was a revolutionary. Defying strict meal times, he would allow malli and I to sip off his cup of midday inguru plain tea and feast on roasted cashew! Yet it was he again who insisted on lunuwila, thebu kola and heenbovitiya.He would not hear of cotton inside our baby pillows. Instead they were dried-jasmine buds stuffed under his careful eye. He added rathmal, weniwelgeta and kohomba to our daily baths as young children. The grand old four poster he shared with athamma was made our play-house. He pretended not to spot us under it, scheming pranks! Instead he fuelled our rebellious spirits. He was amused by a flooded drawing room with drenched teddy bears given a bath right in the middle of it. An imaginary ‘war-front’ of malli’s with sand-filled glass bottles scattered and toy guns booming at the backyard only made him chuckle!
Aatha enabled his grandchildren a window to adult life, way before they tasted the real trials of it. He believed that every political discussion or social gathering was a place for us. Ignorant to what was exchanged, we simply clung to him, wherever he took us, knowing little, this was to be the first lessons of life- the beginning of our informal education.
A charismatic man with a heart of gold and a beautiful smile, you left us a legacy not to indulge in but to serve the world. You left us in a flash, leaving behind only beautiful memories, enabling us to relive your eventful life through Frank Sinatra’s lines: I’ve lived a life that’s full, I’ve travelled each and every highway. But more, much more than this I did it my way… Randima Attygalle (Granddaughter)