Mahinda Wijesekara

It’s hard to believe he’s really gone. Mahinda, my Mahinda, slipped away on April 2nd, leaving a hole in all our lives that feels impossibly large. Born on January 1st, 1943, he lived a life brimming with passion, dedication, and a surprisingly mischievous twinkle in his eye. I remember when we were kids, he’d sneak out to the beach at Weligama, not to swim, but to build elaborate sandcastles – monuments to his imagination, complete with tiny flags and seashell defenses. That was Mahinda in a nutshell: always creating, always finding joy in the simple things, and fiercely protective of the beauty around him. He wasn’t a man of grand pronouncements, but of quiet, genuine kindness, and a laugh that could fill a room. He dedicated so much of his life to public service, first as a Member of Parliament and later as Minister of Fisheries, always striving to make a difference for Sri Lanka. I know the political world could be a tough place, but he approached it with a deep sense of responsibility and a genuine desire to serve. But beyond the politics, Mahinda was a devoted husband to my mother, and a truly wonderful father to his children and grandchildren. He loved nothing more than family dinners, filled with stories, laughter, and the comforting aroma of his famous coconut curry. He’d patiently explain complex political issues to anyone who asked, always with a gentle patience and a willingness to listen. Mahinda had a real love for the sea – it was more than just a job; it was a part of his soul. He spent countless hours fishing, not for profit, but for the sheer pleasure of it, connecting with nature and finding peace in the rhythm of the waves. He was also a keen gardener, transforming his little patch of land into a vibrant explosion of color and life. More than anything, though, he cherished the relationships he built – the friends he’d known for decades, the colleagues he respected, and the family he adored. He touched so many lives with his integrity, his warmth, and his unwavering belief in the good of people. Mahinda may be gone, but the memories of his laughter, his kindness, and his quiet strength will live on in all of us. We’ll miss you terribly, my dear Mahinda.