Rasika Jayakody's gypsy heart

 

Almost twenty five years ago I met a young man at the now defunct Rivira Media Corporation. I am not sure if he was an intern, a trainee journalist or a full time employee. He was just out of school and must have been around 19 or 20 years of age.

A friendly young man, Rasika Jayakody was always up for chit-chat either in the Rivira editorial space, on the staircase that joined or rather separated Rivira and its sister paper ‘The Nation,’ where I worked,  or outside the building. I can’t remember exactly what we talked about, but it was certainly a pleasure telling him things and listening to what he had to say.

At the time, I was the senior journalist, but later Rasika surpassed me in newspapers and of course in the broader field of mass communication. And poetry too, I may add, although I sometimes lament the fact that he settled down to prose rather than verse.

I left the company a few months after the two papers were launched. I remember three things related to Rasika from that time.  

First, I encouraged him to write in English. Not long after leaving Rivira he joined Ceylon Today (and not its sister paper in Sinhala, ‘Maubima’) and still later was appointed Editor-in-Chief of the Daily News.

Second. When I left ‘The Nation,’ I wrote probably the longest letter I’ve ever written to someone. It was to the founder CEO and my dear friend Krishantha Cooray. I offered my assessment of each and every member of the staff, including Krishantha himself, the editors, journalists, marketing team and other employees, among whom was another dear friend, Ananda Thushara, who made tea and would later becoming a journalist himself.

I remember expressing my admiration for two young journalists in particular. First, Chamara Lakshan, at the time paid just a retainer, later became the Editor of Silumina and the now defunct Resa, at Lake House, but sadly passed away a few years ago. And Rasika. I wrote, I remember, ‘Chamara and Rasika are the future of Rivira.’ Events unanticipated and, in retrospect, sad, took us all far away from Rivira and Rivira itself fell into ruin.

Third. Rasika was envied. Some of those who resented him latched on to the fact that he was the nephew of the founding editor of Rivira, Upali Tennekoon. From what I know of Upali Aiya, he would never have given a relative such an opportunity if the particular individual was not up to the task. Rasika was, and how! He was all over the newspaper, to put it in a nutshell. However, he was just a cub journo and when circumstances forced Upali Aiya to leave, his detractors pounced on him. Or tried to.

Rasika probably knew he could do better and left not long afterwards but not before he issued a simple challenge. It was simple. He suggested that they all write an essay about the ‘pol gaha (coconut tree)’ and get an erudite panel of judges to assess. Obviously it was a challenge, made in jest but could have been dead serious as well; a challenge that no one could or would take, but my hunch is that had it been taken Rasika would have won hands down.

The years have passed. Looking back it seems that Rasika was never interested in a career. He was not interested in moving up the ladder. Indeed, he skipped quite a few rungs unlike regular journalists who had to do the hard yards to move up the editorial hierarchy. His ability was unmistakable. Krishantha, who was made Chairman of Lake House in 2015, handpicked Rasika, Chamara and others who had worked with him at Rivira.

Rasika may have been restless. Maybe that’s who he is. Gypsy-like. He moved around. Newspapers. Radio. Television. Podcasts. YouTube. Facebook and other social media platforms. If he was all over the Rivira newspaper back then he’s all over all media now. Versatile in language, genre and medium. I am sure the late Ajith Samaranayake, who wrote equally well in English and Sinhala, would have been highly impressed.  

Rasika Jayakody has followers. Tens of thousands of followers. And of course fans. I’ve read and listened and am in awe: he does so much in so many different ways and he’s not yet 40 years of age. In fact, he still looks 20, and what he does is marked by the freshness, courage, optimism and supreme confidence that is most evident in young people of that age.

He has written six books so far. Five in the non-fiction genre and the sixth, a novel, ‘A Gypsy Heart.’ This Saturday, at the Bishop’s College Auditorium, Rasika will be signing copies of this book at the second ‘Akasa Sutra’ concert series which Rasika the Accomplished Marketer has dubbed ‘The Gypsy Chapter.’

I asked him what seemed to be the obvious question: is it biographical? He said, ‘no,’ a love story, which, as you know, is all about blurry things. Evasive. Piques curiosity. Subtle, but true as well.

Where will he go next? Who can tell? In fact it’s good we don’t know and cannot speculate. Rasika will surprise people. As long as he can. Even if it’s something seemingly incongruous as an essay competition on the subject of a coconut tree. He not only understands that the universe is contained in a grain of sand but will extract the finer and most delightful elements from the most nondescript clod of earth.

We should applaud. I do.

 

[This article was published in the Daily News under the weekly column title 'The Recurrent Thursday']