One of the most illustrious sons of Panadura, akin to the ‘last of the Mohicans’ of his era, passed away last week having lived a fulfilling ninety four years. Rajendra Tissa Salgado, better and aptly known as ‘Rajah’, was born literally a ‘prince’ to one of the well-known families in Panadura, as the only son of Richard and Bella Salgado. Contrary to his birth right, he led the most down to earth, simple and humble life that makes him a unique human being. He left a larger than life legacy of humanity for his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren to be proud of and emulate.

Though commendable in their own right, his claim to fame was not being one of the pioneering batches of graduates in agriculture from the University of Ceylon, or his skilled tenure in management in plantation companies, both in the private and public sector, or being the Chairman of the Salgado Bakeries. It was as the selfless social and religious worker who devoted his entire life to help the less privileged and religious institutions in Panadura. His lifelong commitment as the Trustee of the Walapola temple and as a devoted daayaka of Rankothvihara who spent every Poya day supervising the Seelaviyaaparaya for over sixty years at the temple was legendary. As the Trustee and President of the Home for the Aged in Panadura, he was the guardian angel to the hundreds of aged residents who loved him dearly and eagerly awaited his weekly visits. The yeoman service he rendered for years as the Treasurer of Panadura Bauddha Maha Sangamaya and as Patron, and former President, of the Scouts Association of Panadura, Horana and Bandaragama bore testimony to the endless mourners of all ages, classes and creed who flowed in to pay their respects to his remains last week. These are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg of his social commitments to Panadura.

He lived his exemplary life to the fullest by showing what humility really meant. A man who was born into a family of luxury and fame but never ever wore it on his sleeve. He instead underplayed his riches and family status throughout his life and in action. It is this simplicity that made me call him ‘thaththa’ when I became his daughter-in-law thirty six years ago, by marrying his elder son.

Since I joined the family, I watched in awe of how he took care of his wife, Swarnamali like a precious cargo throughout the sixty seven years of their journey as husband and wife. He would often relate to us the story of how he set eyes on her when she was just a pre-teen on a merry-go-round in Nuwara Eliya while she had been completely oblivious to his admiring eyes. They married young and needless to say were one of the most handsome couples I have ever seen, and they were an adornment to Panadura whenever they graced any occasion. This was what was seen in the public eye. What went on behind the doors of their home Salgado Villa was even more admirable.

Though belonging to a bygone era where husbands expect wives and domestics to do all the housework and be pampered, I watched in disbelief how thaththa woke up early in the morning, opened all the doors and windows, partook in his daily religious observances, made the bed tea and greeted amma every single day, with devotion, before stepping out to his office. When I joined the family, I was aghast to see thaththa packing my lunch and his sons’ lunches, while amma was fast asleep. This was a non-verbal mutual arrangement between them as he encouraged his wife to continue with her passion of smocking until wee hours in the morning. For him this was normal. But for me this was unreal, as that’s not what I expected to see from a man of his class and background. For him, this was all a part of husbandly duties he fulfilled with affection. They were an inseparable couple, who stuck by each other through thick and thin, come what may. Their universe was impenetrable and unshakable, until his demise.

The fact that he was able to socialize with his group of close friends, who loved high spirits, while he was a total teetotaler, not in the least feeling out of place was remarkable. He would join the cheering with a glass of water in his hand while joining the clicking of whiskys and arrack by the rest! As someone who detests drinking, this was a formidable trait I appreciated in him. His mastery and skill of eating hoppers with fork and knife learnt at the University, fascinated me no end as he was the first and only person I watched artfully performing this task. Our hopper mornings at my in-laws house every Sunday was a much awaited ritual, especially for my sons.

My older son Artha would always say that his grandfather was the ‘tallest man’ in the room, both metaphorically and figuratively. This was even when Artha overtook him in height. I feel his six grandsons and one and only granddaughter adore him unconditionally for what he stood for and the values he lived by. He simply lived by example and never by empty rhetoric.

The only reason he seemed to be reluctant to leave this world was because he was paranoid that the social work he carried out would not be continued with the same devotion and dedication by the next in line. But once he delegated his responsibilities to those who he felt he could rely on and they proved worthy of the trust placed in them, he was ready to go.

It is the well lived life of this devoted family man, righteous social worker and simple human being that I celebrate in this tribute.