Minister Mangala Samaraweera. (Inset) His mother Khema Samaraweera
Minister Mangala Samaraweeral who is known as one of the most pragmatic politicians in Sri Lanka celebrated his 30 years in politics recently.
Headlined ‘Khemage Koluwa’ (Khema’s Son), the celebrations also featured his most favourite melody, a beautiful song about the muddled DNA of the Sinhalese, a surprising choice for such an event but we know how unconventional the minister is!
The title of the proceedings, ‘Khemage Koluwa’, brought back memories of the 80s Lake House where I worked with the minister’s mother Khema for several years. An extremely beautiful and friendly woman, Khema worked as the secretary of the then editor of the Observer, late Harold Peiris.
I believe a few of us are still around to revive the memories of those beautiful and carefree days of the Lake House just before the cut-throat politics began to sully its hallowed corridors where, once upon a time, the likes of Martin Wickremasinghe, Denzil Peiris and Tarzie Vittachi wallowed in its freedom.
Khema who lived at that time with her daughter used to tell us about her children and her own experiences while being married to a senior government minister. A new element added to her life that time was her adorable grandchild, her daughter’s kid.
Her usual audience along with me was the editorial desk staff – Chief Sub Willie Silva who happened to be my guru, his assistant Douglas Senarathne, News Editor Nicholas Candappa, S. Selvakumar, Premarathne Ratnayake and sometimes Panduka Senanayake if he was not too busy with the crime beat. Sometimes, Carol Aloysius used to eavesdrop while hacking away at her typewriter, passing comments.
Some days, a couple of Features Desk staffers too joined in our conversations if they were not too busy but we rarely ventured into that area unless it was absolutely necessary for obvious reasons! There, Rajitha Weerakoon, Karel Roberts, Roshan Peiris, Features Editor Leslie Dahanayake, cartoonist S.C. Opatha chewing his ‘bulath hape’, and Sports Editor A. C. de Silva were glued to their desks.
Khema was an adoring mother and one day she was devastated to get the news that her eldest son Jayamini was injured in an accident in Fiji Islands where he worked. She shed lot of tears after hearing the news, rushed home and was in a flight the next day bound to see her son. She returned after a couple months after he completely recovered.
After Mangala returned from his studies in England he began to lecture in Sinhala at the School of Fine Arts and she was little worried about his rusty Sinhala. In the early days he wrote a fashion column for the Daily Observer under the name Mangala Innocence.
Khema was living for some time at Mangala’s house in Dehiwala and I remember one night we dropped her there after an office get-together in the Volkswagen driven by Lloyd Sirimanne of Lake House Productions.
I believe Khema never thought that Mangala would go into politics following in his famous father’s footsteps. She thought his calling was fashion designing.
After I left the country in the wake of JVP troubles I had lost touch with Khema and the last I heard was that she was ailing and the official residence, which Mangala equipped with a special elevator to facilitate her movements, was being acquired after a change of government. I was very sad to hear the death of Khema who passed away in 2008.
‘Khemage Koluwa’ was also a fitting tribute to a great mother as her son marked an important landmark in his political career. – Somasiri Munasinghe
