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Friday, 3 July 2020

A tribute to Sybil Wettasinghe

'Kuda Hora' (Umbrella Criminal) is a story that many have grown up with. It's an intriguing story of umbrella after umbrella being taken to the alarm of the individuals who lost theirs as well as the whole town. What's more, obviously the peruser. The offender is in the long run found — it is a monkey. And all the taken umbrellas are discovered dangling from the part of a tree. That last visual with its clear and shifted hues scratches itself in the psyche and heart of the peruser. Permanent.

That is the thing that Sybil Wettasinghe did for her entire life. She wove stories. She painted them. She hued the youth of countless individuals everywhere throughout the world with word, line and tint. She was companion, buddy and accomplice in all youth quest for these kids. Also, she kept them youthful for the duration of their lives and hers, through puberty, youth, middle age and even the night years.

Also, presently she's gone. She, the guaranteed umbrella that warded off monsoonal rains and singing sun while guaranteeing warmth and breeze, is no more. A person or thing has removed that umbrella, it appears.


In her later years and relying upon the age of the specific individual, she was not Sybil however Aunt Sybil, Sybil Nanda or Sybil Aachchi. But then she was consistently a kid in that she delighted constantly in the basic things around her. The day's last daylight was spilling through the window of the room where she 'worked' or somewhat 'played,' as she addressed me.

This is the manner by which I read that second: 'I am persuaded that [sunlight] was attracted to a youngster who has the uncommon blessing to light up similarly – without declaration or flourish, with most extreme blamelessness and in words so delicate they may be confused with quietness.' And this is the thing that she stated: 'When I am distant from everyone else I become my companion and I feel so wonderful!'

'She was wonderful. She was youthful. She had the interest of a youngster. Her eyes were as brimming with wonderment at her general surroundings. She grinned constantly and her voice appears to be interminably covered with the cheerfulness just a kid can have.'

That is the thing that I composed in those days. That is the manner by which I will consistently recollect her.

She's gone now and I may be slanted to state 'she's left us defenseless against high breezes, overwhelming precipitation and excruciating noontime heat. Then again, actually Sybil Nanda consistently realized how to deal with individuals and specifically the youngster in every one of us that will not bite the dust. What's more, she realized how to end her entrancing stories. She revealed to us how to discover taken umbrellas and ensured that we will be protected from the components when they get arranged in unrestrained manners.

A few umbrellas will never get taken. Sybil Wettasinghe ensured this. She hasn't left. She's simply strolled into her accounts, mixed with the hues and is hitting the dance floor with the lines. Excellent. Delicate. Grinning. Permanent. Such a youngster she is!

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