Que Sera...

Malki's photos were on the wall, and Dilip allowed me to borrow them to be copied and given to Malki. He found a leaflet of a memorial service that had been conducted for Mrs. Kuruppu, and autographed it for me, recalling "fond memories of those halcyon days in 1957".

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I left with a mental list of items for Dilip when I next visited.

On the way out, I met a neighbor who had lived there for more than twenty years. They remembered the time when Mrs. Kuruppu, Dilip, and Malki lived together in the house. With Mrs. Kuruppu's passing, the life they knew was gone. Malki was taken away to the home, and Dilip became a recluse. The neighbor told me that some people had tried to take him away, there had been much shouting, but he had refused to be moved.

I drove straight to a church in town (the Kuruppus had worshipped at the church). I spoke at length with the pastor, showing him the photos of Dilip's house, explaining his plight, and urging the church to intervene. A few days later, I drove the pastor to Dilip's house and asked if the church could help in cleaning up the place and help in other ways, too. The pastor turned my request down, saying that his congregation consisted mainly of elderly men and women who were unable to perform any physical labor.

I then approached two of the Lions Clubs in town, but they did not respond. I wondered if the Kuruppu family had a dark past that the townspeople were familiar with, and I wasn't. I had been away from Sri Lanka for more than 30 years, and upon my return, resided more than ten kilometers from the town where Dilip lived.

Keeping an eye