It is now 2 years since Dr. Ravi Samarasinha passed, in
a tragic motor vehicle accident.
My wife Ashani and I lost one of our dearest friends, my
sons Sharya and Sachin lost a role model and a mentor, and conservation in Sri
Lanka lost one of its greatest champions.
I first met ‘Doc’ as he was fondly known, in the early 90’s,
when we were on a camping trip with mutual friends. I was traveling sans my
wife and sons and since we were in a large crowd of other families, we were
thrown together as the only two ‘single’ men in the group. This and a common
love of cold beer, the outdoors and wildlife in general meant that we struck up
an immediate friendship and spent many hours chatting about these and various
other topics we discovered were common interests.
The park was wet and crowded on this trip, thus it gave us
even more reason to flop in the Menik Ganga with a long drink and while away
our time ‘putting the world right’.
From this day on, Doc became a part of my ‘family’. ‘Ravi
Maami’ to my sons, he would spend many evenings at our home, discussing his
plans, his travels and sharing his experience of the wilds with my wide eyed children,
my wife and me. These visits soon became much anticipated and enjoyed and grew
more frequent with time.
From the inception of this friendship, we took advantage of
any free time we had on our hands to travel far and wide throughout the
country. Visiting places not just ‘wild’ but rich in natural beauty and
culture. From Buduruwagala to Yapahuwa, from Mannar to Yala, from Gal Oya to
Kalpitiya, the Hill country, Knuckles, Sinharaja, we traveled, camping out in
most places. Our staple diet rarely more sophisticated that Maggie Noodles and
Sausages, stir fried with healthy portions of Onions and tomato sauce; The
evening ‘lubricated’ with generous quantities of Arrack.
On some occasions we were accompanied by Ashani, one or both
of the boys depending on their schedules or one or more other like minded
‘travelers’, but more often than not, it was just Doc and me.
We would philosophize, debate, discuss and argue and even,
as we did on one rare occasion, come to blows getting overly ‘heated up’ during
one such ‘debate’.
However through this all we built a strong friendship based
on a mutual respect for each other and of course the common interests we
shared.
Ravi could come across as brusque and unfriendly at times.
He was easily misunderstood. But to those who took the time to see behind the
façade, there was a deeply sensitive, warm and caring human being. While he was
seen as competitive by some, those who knew him had in him a strong friend, a mentor
and guide, someone who was ready to share his experience with anyone who showed
interest.
He would generously pass on his knowledge on photography,
techniques of tracking Leopard, or vast reserves of information to children of
friends, staff in parks and strangers who would take the time to ask. While he
ruffled a few feathers by his tenacity in holding hard won positions at animal sightings
within parks, he patiently sat through many photo opportunities that were
ruined by ignorant or careless behavior, giving his customary angular smile,
shrugging his shoulders and moving on. He worked hard for his photographs and
his passion of studying Leopard and was meticulous in recording details of
every single trip he made.
I have several special memories of times spent in Ravi’s
company. One was when he and I were the sole occupants of the Old Buttawa
Bungalow in Yala. It was a full moon day and having done our evening round, we
sat outside the bungalow to have our customary evening drink. Opposite the
bungalow is a large rock with a depression that would retain some water after
any rain.
While the evening progressed the moon rose to bathe the
jungle in a bright blue light. Sometime
into this evening strode a fully grown Tusker, majestic in the moonlight,
impervious to the two stunned men sitting not twenty feet from him, to start
drinking from the pool directly opposite us. Ravi and I were spell bound. The
night sounds of the jungle, mingled with the slurping of the elephant as he
drank his fill. Not only could we see and hear the elephant but his strong
scent filled our nostrils as well. The elephant took his time over drinking and
then with a gentle nod of his head, almost in acknowledgement of our
appreciation of his presence, strolled off into the night.
There have been many such magical experiences. Camping on
Horton Plains, freezing while trying to bathe at midnight, camping at Panikka
Villu with Ashani and the boys, sleeping under a big Palu tree, too lazy to put
up tents, watching magical sunsets and a full moon rising in Mannar and
photographing Striated Weavers in a tiny hide, on a scorching hot day at Seenukgala.
We camped on the banks of Weerawila tank with two stray dogs for company and
were ‘eaten alive’ by mosquitoes and swamp flies, camping in Kalametiya.
We made a multitude of trips to Wilpattu in the company of
the late warden Wasantha Pushpananda and our late friend Dilrukshan
Tillakaratne. We searched for, discovered and then helped re-open the abandoned
Wild Life Society bungalow outside the same park. The list goes on.
In the latter stages, Ravi gave up the profession of
medicine to follow his dreams of working on the study of leopard and to work
for conservation in Sri Lanka. Moving to his family property outside Putlam,
Ravi began to grow and nurture wild plants to attract butterflies; he began
landscaping his garden to attract more birds and began planting endemic trees
and shrubs to study their impact on the local bird life.
He worked on cataloging his photographs in the ambition of
putting together a collection of his best work.
He was again, having digressed to focus on Leopard,
returning to his roots as a true and complete naturalist.
My last conversation with Ravi was on evening of the 31st
of Dec 06. He was leaving for Horton Plains the next morning, accompanying our
mutual friend Ifham Raji. We chatted of our plans for the New Year and listed
out a few locations we would visit. Nawadamkulama was on the list and so was
Bundala. We wanted to spend more time with the migrant birds and thus focused
on these areas. As was customary Ravi never ended a conversation by saying bye.
He said ‘right you are’ and hung up.
Sadly, throughout the years, I have lost many friends, to
illness, war and accidents. Life is about loss. It’s the inevitable. But, when
the loss is of someone who was such an integral part of who you are and what
you do, it tends to re define you. It creates a void that never fills. Two
years on and I still think of calling ‘Doc’ to tell him of a good sighting. To
share a plan or a thought. To tell him of some progress the boys have made. Two
years and I still can’t come to grips with the fact that my friend died.
The years will go by. We will live our lives and cherish our
memories. With time, some memories will fade, to be replaced by others. But I
have no doubt that among those that will remain till it’s time for me to depart
this world, will be the time my family had another member, when Ravi Maami
would come to dinner, when Doc would join me in an evening drink, under the
stars in some wild, far off place.
‘Right you are’ Doc. Be at peace.
