Chitra, I know, would have liked me to write about her on her 79th birth anniversary which falls on 25th September, 2008. It is sad she is not here with us to celebrate it as she passed away a few months before that.

Ours was a relationship that had a strange beginning for it was formed long before either of us was born! Her father, G. P. Malalasekera and mine, D T Devendra were intimate friends from their bachelor days, thus sealing the fates of their as yet unborn families.

My earliest recollections of Chitra are hazy. Being my eldest brother Tissa’s friend, she circled only the outer fringes of my consciousness. (It was Chitra’s favourite joke that the first boy she had slept with was my brother as they had often been together in the same cot as babies!)

It was when we moved to Ratnapura and the Malalasekeras dropped in for lunch on their way to and from Bandarawela during school vacations, that this plump, vivacious teenager with her bubbly sense of humour swam into my field of vision, never to leave it.

On shifting to Colombo we found ourselves within walking distance of "Samanala" at Longdon Place. Sudu Akka was then an exalted undergraduate who tolerated the large unruly gang of juniors roistering noisily through her home.

Soon it was time for her to leave for England as was the custom in that era. Time passed, and there she was, a radiant bride. Visiting the newly weds in their own annexe, we had a special gift for her – the wedding photograph of her father and her mother, Margaret Elizabeth, whom she had never known. My mother had kept it carefully to be given to Chitra on her special day.

We grew up and moved away – but not apart; the old ties bound us all together even from across many seas.

Many decades later we were re-united as senior citizens when I moved to Nawala and coincidentally the same lane as Sudu Akka’s. Enthusiastically we renewed old ties; this time on a more mature and intimate level. Each evening we walked down to the Council Grounds a few yards away, to play football with her youngest son Pradeep – a child trapped in an adult body – or sit on the park bench and talk when he tired of our company and moved away. She was much loved and respected in that locality, especially by the youth because she treated them all as equals whatever their age and background.

We talked of many things but most about her mother since my mother had been her closest friend until her premature death. It was then that I realized what an unfillable void was there in the life of a child who had never known a mother. It was a chasm that could not be bridged however ‘successful’ one may become in life. Her stepmother cared for her devotedly and she acquired a family of affectionate step-siblings. But her early emotional trauma at losing her mother probably lured her along many paths, some of which brought her pain and distress and harsh criticism though misjudgement. But all those who knew her intimately were compassionate and loved her for her many wonderful qualities.

She often told me how deeply appreciative she was of the steadfast love and loyalty of her brothers and sisters, which must have been the force that steered her through the roughest days of her life. "Sudu Akka will one day drown in her own tears" was how one of her sisters summed up her life.

When finally her life appeared to have evened out, she was diagnosed with cancer. Immediately after surgery she flew with her daughter to England – her mother’s homeland, for recuperation and care. We continued to keep in touch through letters.

On her return she entered the Mallika Home. I renewed my visits to her. From there she wrote an excellent review of my first book, the launch of which she had missed having been abroad.

As her health deteriorated, her family had her live with them in the home of her childhood – ‘Samanala.’ They cared for her lovingly. She passed away peacefully one evening while watching TV. It was a rewarding way to leave this world for one who had suffered much.

May all the good and loving kindness Sudu Akka spread around her light her way through her journey in Samsara.