Fair Comment by Jezeem

Lohan Ratwatte: Unfinished Stories

I wrote this book. The pages are filled with carefully crafted scenes featuring Anuruddha Ratwatte, a character I had researched with scholarly precision and written with respectful nuance. I had imagined, perhaps naively, that one day the Ratwatte family might read these words with a sense of nostalgia—recognizing in my fictional portrayal the echoes of their patriarch's complex legacy.
However, this morning his eldest, Lohan, died.
Lohan Ratwatte was, by all accounts, a man who lived by his own compass. In a world of political conventions and careful choreography, he chose an unorthodox path that often defied the expectations of traditional governance. There was an authenticity to this approach—a refusal to wear the masks that politics so often demands. Yet this same independence of spirit, this determination to chart his own course, sometimes led him into turbulent waters where the currents proved stronger than anticipated. Those who knew him might say he was a man of passionate convictions; others might observe that his passion was untempered and became a double-edged sword.
The details of his life have been dissected and analyzed, his actions scrutinized and judged. But in this moment, as the cloud of grief settles over those who loved him, the complexities of public life fade into something more fundamental and achingly human. Children have lost the father who guided them through life's milestones, who offered counsel and support as they built their own paths. A wife has lost the companion who shared her private moments of joy and sorrow. A mother grieves for the son she once held as an infant, full of promise and possibility. Siblings have lost not just a brother, but their best friend.
In times like these, I find myself returning to the gentle wisdom that transcends all our earthly judgments. "He who is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone," spoke the Teacher from Nazareth, his words carrying across centuries to remind us of our shared humanity and fallibility. In death, we are all equal—stripped of our titles, our controversies, our triumphs and our failures, reduced to the simple truth that we are mortal beings who have loved and been loved.
Lohan Ratwatte's story has reached its earthly conclusion. There will be no more chapters written, no opportunity for redemption or reconciliation, no chance to reshape the narrative. The public man has become history; what remains now is the private grief of those who called him family.
May you find peace, Lohan. May you attain Supreme Nibbana.

Jezeeem Jameel – Author
The Monsoon Of The Covenant, Dhamma On The Rocks

10 months ago | [YT] | 2