The cracks in my marriage appear, the parting between Susil and me

Near death experience at Town Hall

by Sumi Moonesinghe narrated to Savithri Rodrigo

After I sold Jones Overseas in 1996, I retired completely from business and the corporate world – at least that’s what I wanted to do. I realised I had missed out a lot of time with my girls and also yearned to travel to places on my bucket list. So knowing I had time on my hands, I inveigled Susil, whose penchant for detail when it came to organising trips was legendary, to help me tick that list.

One month after we sold the company, we were on the first of these. Anarkali was participating in a training programme in New York and Killi’s daughter’s wedding was also in the US around the same time. Anarkali, Susil and I flew into New York, attended the wedding and after dropping Anarkali off at her hotel, we took our flight to Lima in Peru.

In true Susil style, our entire tour was organised to the minutest detail. We checked into our hotel on the first day and we met up with our guide who took us to have lunch. It was a buffet lunch and when the bill arrived, Susil and I were flabbergasted. The lunch was USD 60 per head and even by today’s standards, this was an unconscionable price to pay for a meal and doubly so, because the abject poverty we saw, opening up like an incurable wound was right outside on the street.

I remember telling my guide that we came from a developing country ourselves and poverty was something we experienced in our land. “We are not used to paying such high prices for our meals,” I explained. “Please take us to regular priced restaurants where the food is good and we can enjoy it without feeling bad about it.”

Our next adventure on this trip was on the highest navigable lake in the world, Lake Titicaca. When I saw the expanse of the lake, I didn’t doubt the fact that it is the largest lake in South America. We were informed by our guide that a thriving city inhabited the Lake Titicaca prior to the arrival of the Incas and in fact, much later in 2000, I read that a small city had been discovered underwater complete with a temple, roads, terraces and an 800 metre wall.

Since Lake Titicaca was on the border of Bolivia, we took a boat to Bolivia. But as soon as I got there I wanted to leave. It was the most depressing place I had ever seen. The poverty was so rife that I just couldn’t bear it.

So, we took a quick turn and landed in Buenos Aires which was like a mini Paris. After having been confronted with scenes I wanted to erase from my mind, this cosmopolitan city was just the balm I needed. We walked and drove to the loveliest of places, from the Plaza de Mayo with its splendid 19th century buildings and the grand 2,500 seat opera house to even visiting Eva Peron’s grave. And then there was the Iguazu Falls, the largest waterfall in the world. The Niagara Falls pales in comparison. I was so captivated by this never-ending panorama of nature that I bought a massive painting of the falls and hung it in my dining room.

From there it was to Rio where we stayed in Ipanema where I saw many ‘Girls from Ipanema’, most very stylishly tropical. Copacabana was where I once again remained riveted and this was not because the architecture was beautiful or the history was captivating. It was simply because there were women of ‘all sizes, and I reiterate all sizes, wearing tiny stringy thongs, plsying beach volleyball or football.

I hider the layer of poverty which was all too evident, what I saw was a truly beautiful country with lots of resources that were not being optimised. I remember telling our guide he was fortunate to live in a country that had an abundance of resources. He turned to me and said, “Madam, haven’t you heard the saying that when God created the earth, he put foolish people in countries like this and gave them all the resources?”

Just prior to leaving on this trip, Susil was in the throng of protestors outside the Indian High Commissioner’s residence on Thurstan Road Colombo 7, protesting against the food drop in Jaffna, that had been initiated by the Indian Government. India had become more actively involved in Sri Lankan politics by this stage and when the Indian Air Force dropped 15 tons of food and medicine into areas held by the LTTE, this act was construed as direct support for the terrorist organisation and relations between the governments of Sri Lanka and India soured.

These trips gave us a brief respite from the dark chapters our country was going through. Sri Lanka was still at war and there was always danger and a swathe of fear that seemed to lurk around us. This fear was exacerbated by Susil being in politics because his life was continuously on a bull’s eye and as a consequence, we were in danger too. The girls and I wore constantly nagging him to give up politics.

There was something else that worried us. Susil’s apolitical ideology had changed. He began to tout Sinhala nationalist ideology on political platforms, continually referring to his ancestor Anagarika Dharmapala’s Buddhist revivalist rhetoric and his vision of the inseparability of Buddhism and Sinhala society. This was not the mindset of our family and we were in total disagreement with this thought process. But Susil was adamant and seemed to have got lost in the sea of the misguided support he was attracting. One of his avid supporters was the Head Priest of Amarapura Nikaya Ven. Madihe Pannaseeha, who asked Susil to put himself forward as a candidate for the forthcoming Presidential Election.

Anarkali, Aushi and I were at our wits’ end and we told him so. This was not in our family agenda. There were incessant arguments which led Susil to believe that we were ganging up against him. But we were resolute that this is something we would not support.

With the gradual change in Susil’s political beliefs, I hardly participated in his political work except for entertaining his close political friends at home – Nanda Mathew, Sarath Amunugama, Wijepala Mendis and Stanley Kalpage, who had been disgruntled with the UNP leadership. This discontent heralded another change. In the late 1990s, Susil crossed over to Chandrika’s camp, which I wasn’t aware of until later.

There were others like Sarath Amunugama, Wijepala Mendis and Nanda Mathew who did too. Finding out about the crossover was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I told him categorically that I would not support his leftist ideologies M they had now begun to have Sinhala Buddhist undertones. With everything that was going on, there were times I wanted to get away. I felt Susil was busy enough, waist deep as he was in politics and wouldn’t really miss me.

So I began traveling alone. The girls were both in England and in between visiting them, I also went to New Zealand, staying in massive ranches with infinite numbers of cattle owned by my friends from
the New Zealand Dairy Board. I travelled to Singapore and Hong Kong and it amazed me how Robert Kuck and the family continued to embrace me as a member of their family, even though I had retired. Their doors were always open and always received an invitation to their annual group get-together at the Shangri-La Hotel.

Even though Susil and I had our disagreements over his politics, we were very much a happy family. Ours was a perfect family, we were loving to each other, close and there was always a large dose of happiness embracing us. This happiness was something I constantly debated about and would discuss with the girls, mentioning my premonition that, like the wheel of fortune, something disastrous would happen and our perfect world would be shattered.

In the meanwhile, our passports were at the British Passport Office – mine for a residency application and Aushi’s for her British passport. Lai Jayawardene was the High Commissioner in London at the time and since both passports were getting delayed, said he would give us emergency travel certificates to return to Sri Lanka. We returned to Sri Lanka on the 18th of December and Susil was at the airport to pick us up.

With Susil firmly in Chandrika’s camp, he was back at election rallies in preparation for the upcoming Presidential elections. On December 19, he made his way to the Colombo Town Hall for one of these rallies, which Chandrika was due to attend. After he left, Aushi and I were chatting at home when we heard fireworks. We figured the fireworks were for the arrival of Chandrika. But seconds later, the sirens began. A bomb had exploded targeting Chandrika.

Our home is a stone’s throw away from the Town Hall and I remember going hot and cold, fear gripping my heart. Susil was at that rally and I feared the worst because he would be on that stage. I didn’t know what to think or whom to call. My mind had gone completely blank. I just walked out to our gate and stood looking at the road, waiting… just waiting. Aushi meanwhile was manning the phones trying to glean whatever news she could of Susil.

About an hour later, I was filled with absolute relief because walking down our lane was Susil, accompanied by one of his security detail. He was alive and had escaped the bomb. I ran up to him, not believing my eyes. “I was saved because of Prof. G L Peiris,” he said. “G L came forward to speak with Chandrika and was standing in front of me when the bomb was detonated. He got hit by shrapnel.” I looked him up and down and realized that Susil was unharmed. This was the third near-death experience Susil had and I silently sent up a prayer of thanks.