Vivian was one of those few people in my life with whom friendship was one enduring inspiration for good living. He was an exemplary Christian. I was deeply grieved by his transition, and more so, by my inability to attend his funeral.

He and I joined the Department of Income Tax - as it was called those days - about the same time, in 1956 or 1957. The department was then housed in the New Secretariat, situated in what was then called the Senate Square in Fort, Colombo 1. In a large department it takes time to get acquainted with one’s colleagues and still more time to befriend a colleague. Getting acquainted with others is one of the necessities of life but friendship is not easily won. I first spotted Vivian in our common parking lot where we parked our cars. I had the impression that he seemed a pompous fellow. How wrong I was!

Vivian belonged to a community which, though small in numbers, has contributed in no small measure to the development of the common heritage of Sri Lanka; they have displayed that contribution in all the vital spheres of life, a contribution which, like good wine, needs no bush. The maturity and wisdom of the Burghers was well displayed by the manner in which they reacted to the changes of 1956 and after. Some who found the changes unacceptable, emigrated without malice, while the others that remained integrated themselves gracefully with the rest of the people. Vivian and his wife Dorothy gracefully remained.

Vivian typified the Burgher gentleman in ample measure. As a tax official, he possessed the quintessential qualities of a soundly trained officer, combined with uncommon courtesy and good manners, with which he treated colleagues and taxpayers alike. His technical ability came of good training given by the department, but the strength of his character came of good breeding that no amount of training can give.

Though we came from different school and academic backgrounds, our common heritage of a sound English education and the sober as well as simple life-style of middle class living brought us together. As was to be expected, he was possessed of a sturdy independence and shining integrity. He stood aloof from the self-seeking mutual admiration ‘cells’ so characteristic of departmental life in the public service. Life in the Tax Department was no exception. Perhaps, Vivian knew instinctively that the person who makes human admiration the centre of his life loses, in the end, not only his usefulness and dignity, but also the proper pleasure of work. As a perceptive writer once observed, if Esau really got the pottage in return for his birthright, then he was a lucky exception.

Vivian walked with Christ but never talked about Him. That is one grudge I will bear against him! I was left to fend for myself and find Him ultimately. Those of us who grieve over the loss of a friend like Vivian can find solace in the thoughtful treasure so assuredly written by Paul in Philippians 1-21 to inspire us in the saddest moments of our lives: "For living to me means simply Christ, and if I die I should gain more of him."
Tilaka Samaratunga