When Asfan Thajudeen ghosted languidly over for the try that gave St. Thomas’ Preparatory School the lead that that would not be assailed by S. Thomas’ College Mt. Lavinia, there was something poetic about it. Both brothers, Wasim and Asfan, share physical characteristics. Tall, handsome and long of limb, one wiry full back could easily have been mistaken for the other. On the field, they both had that same lazy air to their game that talented players have. They look like they could be trying harder, but they didn’t need to.
So after his forwards had done some good work and Asfan collected the pass well behind him, it took skill and presence of mind to pirouette, dummy the pass the defence thought was coming to the young Nishan Handunge and then saunter through the gaping hole for a beautifully taken try under the posts. Arjun Manoharan’s conversion and two penalties gave Prep the win 13-8 over a fancied Mount Lavinia side that scored through Chanditha Samarasinghe and Devin Jayasinghe’s penalty.
There’s no doubt that as Asfan dotted the ball down he thought ‘this one’s for you’. And he wasn’t the only one. While nobody really confronted the elephant in the room during our practice sessions, there is no doubt that the resurgent interest in Wasim’s death didn’t galvanise the Prep. team from within. They played with the heart, grit and passion that he would appreciated and applauded, beating a side that at one stage had four 1st XV captains on the pitch at one time.
Winning that game meant a lot for a largely unheralded rugby school. A school that produced the De Saram brothers, the Goonetilleka twins, Ruchira Perera and four consecutive 1st XV captains from 1999 – 2002. The abrupt end of rugby at STPS has contributed in no small measure to the slow asphyxiation of STC’s 1st XV recruits. The last batch of quality Prep school boys included Jayawardena, Manoharan and Kodituwakku in the 2009 trophy winning side. Since then, the Prep school contributions have been sparse.
Hopefully, this Pride of Origin encounter will galvanise the two heads of schools, Warden Billimoria and Headmaster Rodrigo to strengthen the sporting ties between the schools at every level. New brooms sweep clean. It was way back in 1989 that I was part of a Prep team that was as surprised as everyone else to beat a Mount Lavinia team at the Big Club Grounds. That team included two future 1st XV captain. So the tradition of rugby at Prep is not one to be outdone as that trend at junior age groups continued.
Neither is the tradition of brotherhood. Asfan’s teams were dominant in 2000 and 2001. His brother’s teams less so, but Wasim was one of the shining stars of Thomian rugby as he continued to play for his beloved Havelocks and also the Sri Lanka team. Until Sudarshan Muthuthanthri and Anuruddha Wilwara emerged he was the one flying the Blue and Black on merit.
Out of some unforgettable moments in my life, sadly three of them have to do with death. I will never forget the days that my mum told me my Uncle Billy Rowland had been shot on his estate. I will also never forget my mum telling me about how my father’s Commanding Officer Brigadier Thevanayagam tragically met his end. It was devastating as my father was was very close to Brigadier Thevanayagam and I looked up to Diresh as a senior in school. It was dumbfounding. But it was an event fueled by years of pent up rage, and if looked at rationally with the hindsight of time, a lesson to all parents that they can sometimes push children too far, with disastrous consequences. The other was the death of Wasim. I was on my way to swimming at the SSC when Uncle Mike Anthonisz the JKH swimming coach called me at about 630am. I thought he was calling me to give me the schedule saying he was late or to cancel swimming. His parents lived on Park Road and he standing opposite the car when he called. He was distraught. “Shanaka, you know our boy Wasim?! He’s no more.”
The disbelief was not only mine. Nobody who heard the news that day could believe it. Uncle Mike knew Wasim because just as he was a fantastic rugby player he was also a talented cricketer, excellent footballer and better than average swimmer. Uncle Mike had a favourite drill called the Windmill Arms that he forced us to do in order to maximise the push through on our freestyles and Wasim was always the demonstrator because his natural freestyle had a windmill action to it. With his cheeky smile and knee length swimmers he always made the girls look twice. He was a Sri Lanka rugby player, but he was never too good not to show up for swimming practice. That’s how humble and unassuming he was, instantly becoming a crowd favourite.
Uncle Mike’s grief that day was spontaneous. Despite only having known Wasim for a few years. For those who knew him well, the grief was unfathomable.
Driving past the thronging policemen that fateful morning, gazing at the car that was covered in a tarp, it was hard not to shed a tear. My only hope at that moment was that I hoped he was dead when the car caught fire.
By evening Murugan Place was a sea of people. Wasim’s body was still being examined and the family trying to ensure religious rites were observed. The entire lane was flooded by people whose lives Wasim had touched at some point. And they came from all walks of life, entirely united by their friendship with Wasim. They say that if you’ve ever stood for something you’ve made enemies somewhere along the way, and that much is obvious. But judging by the amount of friends Wasim had made even before he hit 30 he had stood for the right things.
Our paths crossed many times, and not once would they leave me without a smile. My first memory of the lad is him missing a sitter under the posts, handing the momentum to Kaluaratchi’s Royalists in 2001. The obvious kick early on would have put STC in the lead. Captain Jivan Goonetilleka didn’t even see the kick miss. He was walking back to half way when Wasim ran by him smiling apologetically saying ‘miss una, bung miss una’. The 16 year old only got better. I remember yelling at him once after a Thora game for getting yellow carded so often. ‘What to do Shanaka, they’re hitting no’, was his response. If there was one guy that made you want to tear your hair out and hold your sides laughing at the same time, it was him. He was never ever one to back down from a fight, and although his boyish arrogance gave way to mature aggression later in the piece, this quality may just have been his undoing.
Wasim had a strong sense of what was right and wrong. I tried many times to lure him to CR from Havies at a time the Park Club was struggling and his performances were not catching the eye. That prodigious boot I told him, would be better served at Longdon Place. Every time I tried, he would listen, consider and then say ‘This is my Club, machan. How to leave it and come?’. I respected him immensely for that. Loyalty is not something you can even buy at the supermarket anymore. Especially not from his generation.
Wasim started swimming again after he had his knee operated. The only time I’d seen him not smile was when we compared notes about our surgeries and recuperation. We both had tremendous trouble recovering from ACL surgery and he would often seek counsel on the best rehab. He desperately wanted to get back to his beloved rugby and was fretting impatiently for the troublesome knee to recover. And he would have, as he was well on the way back to full fitness. Equally destructive with the ball as he was with it at his feet, he could play anywhere in the back three or the centres. It was a tragic loss.
For those who thought that he was all play and no work, that is a massive understatement. He was the travel coordinator for one of our firm’s largest clients and his efficiency was excellent. He was thoroughly professional and also incredibly generous. The Wasim Thajudeen foundation which Asfan has founded in his brother’s wake continues the charities that Wasim contributed to without any fanfare. He truly embodied the Islamic attitude to charity, where good deeds need not be advertised.
It was only last year that I deleted Wasim’s number from my phone. There’s a part of you that wants to believe he’s still around. To flash that million dollar smile. As his body gets exhumed today, we all know that those charred remains mean nothing. He lives on in the memories he made, and the sheer joy of living he exuded.
In the recent weeks disbelief has turned to anger. Whether that anger is founded or not we may never know. But what is necessary to remember is how Wasim lived. Not think about how he died. Justice is important for the system, for the country, yes. But for his friends and family justice will never bring back that gangly package of positive energy.
The best thing we can do for those who leave us too early is to continue living as they would have wanted us to. The Pride of Origin game on Saturday was exactly that. A time for friends, for rugby, competition, family and good time. When Prep skipper Jayan Goonetilleka held the Wasim Thajudeen Memorial Trophy aloft, it was more than just winning a game of rugby. “This one’s for you Wassa!” We all know that.
Maybe Uncle Mike was mistaken that day when he said Wasim is ‘no more’. He is. And that photogenic smile will live on in our hearts.
The Almighty is his Shepherd. Be thou Forever.
(ballhandling101.wordpress.com)
