First
we rejoice in the achievements of our parents, relatives of their
generation and their friends. Later we celebrate the victories of our
friends. Time passes and celebration gives way to commiseration. We
lament the passing of people and the fading of glory days.
More
time passes and we look to our children, their little victories, the
little steps that become strides, the giving of their best — we applaud
or slowly nod our heads with pride.
Time has passed. Just this
morning I read a post. Not of a parent or someone of that vintage. Not
of a friend or colleague. Not even a son.
‘Heartfelt
congratulations to Sahan Agalawatta on being appointed as the Head
Prefect of Royal College Colombo. This proud moment carries a deep
emotional significance for the Royal College family. Sahan is the son of
the late Sampath Agalawatta, the respected captain of the 1984 Royal
rugby team who led the school to regain the historic Bradby Shield and
brought great honour to the college. Though he is no longer with us,
Sampath Agalawatta’s legacy of leadership, courage, and dedication
continues to live on. Seeing his son rise to lead the students of Royal
College is truly a touching and proud moment.’
The author is Riyaz Aluher, an old boy of the same school and a long time teacher who retired recently.
His
words resonate. Sampath or ‘Agale’ as he was known was iconic. He was
the name associated with the Class of 1983 of Royal College, Colombo.
Sahan, Agale’s younger son, was a little boy when his father passed
away. I have seen him off and on since. I mostly spoke about my friend
but there was one occasion when I did tell him that he is Sahan and not
‘Agale’s son.’ In other words, he does not need any icon, father
included, as a prop to greatness of any kind. That’s what I meant.
Sahan had his own battles to fight. I don’t know how he fought them, but he
must have come through when it mattered. When I heard the news, I
smiled. And there was a tear for Agale. As I write, there is a smile and
a tear once again.
I read the note and my thoughts went back
to Riyaz or Riyaz Sir as he is better known and as I address him now,
even though he was a few years junior to me in school. ‘Riyaz Sir’
because he was the Senior Games Master with whom I had to interact in my
capacity as the Chairman of the Advisory and Management Committee in
relation to chess, carrom and scrabble.
Riyaz Sir could never
stop smiling. The smiles would often be accompanied by a twinkle in his
eye. He had a sense of humour. More importantly, he knew the school and
he knew what it stood for. For him, education was all about producing
decent, honourable and disciplined citizens. On such things he never
compromised. So the students who encountered him, Sahan included I’m
sure, learned important lessons from him that they may or may not have
been taught formally in the classroom.
I have not delved into
his teaching history, i.e. those years before he joined his alma mater.
It’s something I’ve jotted down in the must-do files of the mind. I’ve
read him in the things he did for sports and kids involved in sports.
I’ve read him in the bits and pieces revealed in the way he conducted
himself as a teacher and Assistant Principal. And I’ve read him in the
innumerable Facebook posts on various matters related to the school.
And
so, I know that Riyaz Sir has learned of books and men (and women) as
recommended in the College Song. And I know that he is a book (and a
man) that hundreds of children who have since grown into men of standing
have read and learned from. Riyaz Sir has a rare appreciation of
personality and history, for he researches and writes lovely tributes to
Royalists, old and young, sometimes in the form of a birthday wish. The
following is a witty, elegant and spot-on note on another member of our
class, Sukumar Nagendran, whose philanthropy is legendary. As is his
humility, I should add. ‘A tribute to the letter “S”’ is the title he
picked.
‘The stately sweep of S shapes stories of strength,
service, and sacrifice. It sings of spirit and steadfastness; it
symbolizes sincerity and silent struggle. Sometimes sharp, sometimes
soothing, this subtle symbol steers the soul of speech. Such splendid
symbolism suits Sukumar — a seasoned son of Royal College Colombo —
whose steadfast service strengthened both College and country. From
school corridors to national circles, his signature was sincerity; his
standard was selfless service. Solid in stance, simple in style, he
stood for substance over show. Though now settled in the United States,
the silver strand of school spirit still surrounds him. Seas may
separate soil, yet sentiment stays steadfast. His support continues
silently; his solidarity remains strong. Such souls sustain
institutions; such spirits serve society beyond shores. So let the
letter S salute Sukumar — symbol of service, scholarship, and sacrifice.
May his story inspire succeeding generations to strive sincerely, serve
selflessly, and stand steadfast for both College and nation.’
Books
and men. Sampath, Suku and Riyaz Sir. They’ve learnt and they’ve
served. They acknowledge teachers, they give back without hesitation.
They all played the game, again as recommended in the College Song. With
integrity, honesty and humility.
As for young Sahan Agalawatta,
who carries his father’s cheerful nature, humility and courage, all I
can say is, ‘be you, and you’ll recolour the world in pleasing hues.’
Agale would have been proud. His mother and siblings are probably proud. He has made Riyaz Sir proud, he’s made all his father’s friends proud. Good things await.
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