Sunny Dayananda ~ Malinda Words

I don’t know if he wrote his name as ‘Sunny’ or ‘Sani.’ It was straightforward in Sinhala because the spelling did not matter. සනි අයියා. That’s how people of my generation referred to hm. His contemporaries probably didn’t have to add ‘aiya.’

Sunny Dayananda was probably too old to be called ‘Aiya’ when I first met him. ‘Uncle’ didn’t work because that was not a term used in political gatherings. It was better of course that ‘sahodaraya,’ which is a silly transliteration of ‘comrade,’ but then again not all Marxists engaged in copious translation of whatever the red friends in Europe had to say were not exactly experts on language.

‘Aiya’ may have worked because his almost lifelong comrade-at-arms, Manikkuvadura Daniel, who was ten years his senior, was also referred to as ‘Aiya.’ Danny Aiya and Sunny Aiya were, at that time, inseparable. One could not be referred to without mentioning the other.

What was that time, though? For me, the year 1990. I had never met either of them before. I hadn’t heard of them either and that’s my fault for being a poor student of post-independence govi-satan or farmers’ struggles.

I met Sunny Aiya at an educational camp at Anandaramaya in Pallimulla, Matara where Rev Athureliye Rathana Thero was the Chief Incumbent. Most of the participants were very young. Most were undergraduates while a few had graduated a year or two before. There were three older individuals. Danny Aiya, Jayantha (Jayamuni) Aiya and Sunny Aiya. Ideologically more Marxist than anything else, Danny Aiya and Sunny Aiya were Maoist in their thinking. This I gathered as much from what people said about them as what they themselves said during the discussions held over four or five days. I also learnt that Sunny Aiya had been close to G I D Dharmasekera and that during the 1971 insurrection he had been part of a team that had attacked the US Embassy in Colombo.

Two years later, both Danny Aiya and Sunny Aiya were arrested with a dozen or so other activists, many of whom had participated in the aforementioned ‘camp,’ myself included. We were ‘arrested’ while we were in the middle of a discussion at the Kaududuwa temple (where Ven Pohoddaramulle Pemaloka, had been gunned down by JVP goons during the bheeshanaya) by a group of armed men who turned out to be policemen attached to the Wadduwa Police Station.

We were beaten that night by the OIC of the police station, who was drunk. I was dragged out of a cell I had to share with Rev Rathana, beaten and literally thrown to where Sunny Aiya (then 50) and Danny Aiya (then 60) were handcuffed and sitting on the floor. I was handcuffed as well.

The OIC approached Danny Aiya but may have decided that he was too old to receive punishment. Instead he stretched out an arm and clobbered Sunny Aiya’s face. He did not flinch. The OIC then called out for a stick, a club really, and issued the following warning in Sinhala: ‘We know how to hit without leaving any marks, but you would lose your mind by tomorrow.’

Then he started hitting Sunny Aiya on his head. Seated next to him, I counted, because I wanted to know at least roughly the number of blows I would receive (I assumed he would turn on me next). Twenty five! Half way through that assault, Sunny Aiya let out a scream…..’Ammo….’ I just got a sharp, hard blow on my wrist, which swelled to twice its size. Nothing close to what Sunny Aiya had to suffer.

Then we became friends. Political preferences changed, but those friendships remained. An activist to the end, Sunny Aiya was part of many organisations, some Maoist and some nationalist, some with Danny Aiya and some with others, in particular Rev Kalupahane Piyarathana Thero, who too had been arrested that same day.

He was a tenacious defender of the political positions he took. I later learned that while being held in a police station after most of those who were detained that night were ‘transferred out,’ he had been a minority of one defending historical materialism. One day when his wife arrived with food, Champika Ranawaka is said to have asked, in Sinhala, ‘is this the woman who loves you or just another physical object.’ He had said ‘another physical object.’ The lady had not been pleased. Looking back, he could have said, ‘both.’ He wasn’t like that though.

Piyarathana Hamuduruwo would know more about his life, personal and political. Danny Aiya passed away a few years ago; he would have known too. His wife predeceased him. They didn’t have children, but he tried to help their families. He did in fact persuade his friends to support the education of his wife’s niece, who was reading for a degree at the University of Kelaniya. He probably helped others. He didn’t care too much about his personal needs.

A small man. Big heart. Tenacious fighter. Always on the side of the oppressed, the insulted and humiliated. Whenever there are gains, whenever a sporadic victory is obtained, someday when a just and civilised world is forged, one day when that magnificent edifice is constructed, at least one brick would belong to Sunny Aiya. ‘Sunny Dayananda’ would not be etched on it. He would laugh and dismiss if it was up to him. He left traces that will be untraceable.

For now, those who knew, will recall and be thankful that Sunny Dayananda walked this earth, that he loved people and was always ready to pay the highest price if that is what it took to keep his integrity intact. A bouthika vastuwa is missing. Left quite a mark though.

malindadocs@gmail.com

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

19 June 2023

Sunny Dayananda

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