Two stories to lift the spirits of depressed Sri Lankans

The much-used expressions in conversations now are ‘What to do, any’; ‘Can’t help’; Kata cantata which means whom to tell and ask for alleviation of miseries. This expostulation of utter helplessness is justified. Honourable too as they express not self-seeking redress but national delusion and desperate cries for relief, knowing relief is not forthcoming and there is no one in power who will listen and do what has to be done.

Consider what bits of news conveyed and further disturbed us Ordinaries during the three days: Monday through Wednesday – Dec 6, 7, 8.

SLC led by its President, Shammi Silva, lodged a complaint in the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption against ex Minister of Sports Roshan Ranasinghe, alleging he was guilty of bribery and corruption.  If we Ordinaries had the ability to laugh – long lost to misery – we would have guffawed our guts out.  On whom does the shoe fit? No stone will be unturned to take revenge on honest-to-goodness Roshan R, rich and handsome too. He complained to the police that he received death threats.

That is the way of the powerful-by-indirect means Sri Lankan nationals.  I mean by that last bit that the tussle here is between the Head and his coterie of SL Cricket, now seemingly all powerful and able to call the shots with the high and mighty as against the legitimately powerful by being an MP and the Minister of Sports, etc., which designation is usually prefaced with the word Honorable.

Then, was presented on TV news, bags labeled WHO which when opened showed putridly rotten rice. It meant that some persons slit open the bags containing rice sent by the WHO to children mostly, who are near starving in this land of ours; stole the contents and substituted with rice not fit even as animal feed. The persons who committed this crime are ghouls of the most despicable kind.

Medicines bought by the Ministry of Health from local illicit makers or from shady overseas pharmaceutical companies have killed many, including children. We don’t know how many suffered ill effects but survived. Many were/are involved in this dastardly crime, but who ultimately should bear responsibility and take the rap? The Minister of Health.

And what happened to him who was Minister when the crimes came to light? He was given another Ministry by Prezi Ranil W and where did he go recently? To Dubai for COP 28.  To save our Treasury money, we hope he was given a ground floor room in the sure-to-be very expensive hotel the Lankan contingent would have stayed in, costing the poor, starving people very much.

Much more bad news came through the media with not one ray of hope. No, there was one. Eran Wickramaratne spoke recently the stark truth that not one investor would come to Sri Lanka with his money since no rule of law exists here. He referred to the murder of Shafter and said no overseas business person would touch this country where murder is rampant. Lies, bungling, loss of evidence and much more take place so murderers get off free with no doubt at all, if they have political VVIP backing.

Let’s leave crimes committed and resultant frustration aside and get on with two stories.

Remarkable woman judge

Justice Sandra Day O’Connor died on December 01 aged 93; born March 25, 1930, in El Paso, Texas. She was an attorney, politician, and jurist who served as an associate justice of the Supreme Court from 1981 to 2006, elected to the American SC by President Ronald Reagan. She was the first woman to be so honoured, and the resultant obligation weighed heavy on her, hence her constant conscientiousness. Many a time hers was the deciding vote in often controversial cases that came before the Supreme Court. Thus, the universal respect she earned.

She grew up on a ranch. Her higher education was at Stanford University which college she was said to be in love with, for she had a pillow carrying the name Stanford throughout her adult life, which visitors said she cradled when terminally ill.  She met her future husband while they were both working on a university paper and married lawyer John O’Connor in 1952 and had three sons. O’Connor played a significant role in supporting his wife’s illustrious career in law and public service. He sacrificed his own career in Arizona to move with her to Washington DC when she was appointed a SC Judge.

Said of her was that “She embodies the complications of being a wife and a mother and a professional.” “She carried a legacy of moderation and respect for differences and equal rights for women.” Obituaries praise much, much more.

In 200,5 at 75 years she gave up a lifetime tenure of serving on the Supreme Court to care for her husband in a marriage of 52 years who was bowed down with Alzheimer’s. People close to her dissuaded her, but she was adamant.  “John gave up his position in Phoenix to support me.  Now I am giving up my job to be with him.” It was not for long that this close togetherness was possible because his condition worsened and he had to be placed in a hospice. There he developed a relationship with a female patient and would take no notice of his wife during her daily visits to him. She was glad about the obsession of sorts he developed as she said it was an interest to live and all the better for him.  John O’Connor died in 2009 aged 79.  They had moved back to Phoenix where she continued to live.

For Cass the crux of this story is the greatness of a woman who was humane and respected people as individuals and reached the pinnacle of her career. She gave it up for love, concern and loyalty. Cass read in an appreciation in the NYT that her son Scot commented they were all through life like teenagers in love. A comment of Sandra Day O’Connor was that “young love is about wanting to be happy and old love is about wanting someone else to be happy.”

Altruistic service from simple persons

Cass is certain readers who read her know from TV news and press reporting about the 41 workers trapped in the Uttarakhand tunnel for three weeks who surely would have suffered despair. They lived in the same clothes and with barely any food or water, but survived.  Experts in engineering, drilling and technology from around the world rallied round to assist to save the men. Drills broke, rocks cracked and attempts failed several times. They met with minor successes such as probably getting a supply of fresh air into the space in the collapsed tunnel the 41 were huddled in. But getting them out was no nearer accomplishment.

Then came forth a team of people skilled in a banned and banished art – rat hole miners. The team was led by a 29-year-old man from Delhi. They earned the name given because they move debris by digging and scraping with their bare hands, burrowing holes like rats. In Uttarakhand they got down to work immediately on arrival, scraping and scratching a hole with a diameter of 2.6 feet.  The leader scaled down and was the first to actually see and greet the trapped men, now probably speechless with jubilation.

The crux of this story is what makes the heart and mind so very happy.  The leader, Monna Qureshi, and team refused any payment – not a single rupee. The article Cass read reported that Monna Qureshi said he earned so much pride by saving the lives of 41 Indians that the pride would last him a lifetime – hence no money for work done.

The story is extracted from an email received by Cass; hence she cannot vouch for its veracity,Cass need not preach but needs to comment on how matters concerning money now go on in this land or ours. It is said a man will kill his mother to get some money into his hands.