The legacy Iqbal Athas left behind

I first met Iqbal Athas in 1979, soon after I joined the news desk of the once-popular Sun Newspaper as a trainee.

- BY JUMAR PREENA

Iqbal Athas (right) with the author Jumar Preena

He was the News Editor then, and unknowingly to us, already a Master Class in journalism personified.My very first lesson in news reporting was taught by Iqbal. Born on 1st September, 81 years ago, he was truly one of the rare gems of the news fraternity. He spoke with the same clarity and charm with which he wrote—measured, engaging, and effortlessly authoritative.

A by-lined article by Iqbal Athas was a scoop, what we would today call breaking news, and more often than not, it led the paper. Yet, he never wrote to impress himself or peers. He wrote for the average reader. His style was simple, well-explained, lightly dramatic without being sensational, and invariably spellbinding.

He had mastered all three languages, English, Tamil, and Sinhala, with enviable fluency.

He would walk into the newsroom with grace and quiet charm, always carrying his trademark brief case. Outside waited his bluish Mitsubishi Lancer (the "L-light model," as we called it), a symbol of quiet success in an era when such comforts were rare.

Flanking him were the News Editors of Dawasa and Thinapathi. It was common to see them discussing the day's cracker stories even before work formally began. Those conversations alone were lessons in editorial judgment.

Despite his stature, Iqbal was profoundly down-to-earth. A gentleman in every sense—kindhearted, approachable, and always willing to help. His professional eloquence was matched by personal warmth.