During my twenty years in Australasia, I had visited Singapore regularly. Adjusting to my new teaching environment was therefore an easy task. News about Ranjan trickled in mainly through Allen, who – unlike Marcus in Melbourne – was an avowed enemy. Marcus had, invariably, viewed Ranjan’s activities supportively. Allen underscored the seedy aspect of what he chose to tell me. He remained unabashed when, on one occasion, I gave vent to my resentment of his bias. ...
A few years later, Ranjan’s sad end was vividly drawn back to my attention. One day I received an email in which the sender, who signed himself as Chula Jeyaratne, asked me for lunch. Initially, I was unable to identify him. I then recalled that I had met Ranjan’s younger brother, whose name was Chula, during my first visit to Colombo. The man in his late middle age, who had arrived at the agreed venue before me, bore no resemblance to that unformed boy I had met years earlier. His black hair was laced with silver and his face was wrinkled. ...