Harry J : The unforgettable

• On the meaning of loyalty and friendship

Harry Jayawardena

Harry Jayawardena passed away a year ago. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty five days. The time has ticked quickly. And yet, it is as though it was just the other day that we last spoke. 

It is not surprising, really. After all, we were the closest of friends. There were no filters between us when we spoke. It was brutally honest conversations that we had. We spoke our minds freely. Although he was very much older, he treated me like a friend he had known all his life. He even called me ‘Lokka’ - a private joke between us, because that is also how I addressed him. He didn’t feel ‘older.’ He was, not in years, but in life experiences.  

Harry Jayawardena, as everyone knows, was an iconic businessman and industrialist. He was in fact a kind of King Midas of Sri Lankan enterprise; whatever he touched, prospered. The fearlessness, the uncompromising relentlessness and attention to detail are unmatched. He didn’t exactly lecture me, but I knew him enough and listened to him enough to be privy, in a sense, to the man and his thinking. He didn’t set out to impart knowledge but he was so generous with advice and honest in our interactions that I could not but learn from him. 

Harry J would stand by friends through thick or thin, regardless of costs. That’s a measure of the man’s sincerity. A man’s word was his bond; that’s how it was for Harry

We spoke every single day. Maybe that’s why I miss him so much. It was part of my day to exchange a few words with Harry J, as I fondly refer to him. It’s been long enough for me not to expect, unconsciously, a call from him, but it’s still too soon not to remember him every day. Harry’s voice is in my ear. His advice guides me. Even though I don’t attribute analysis and decisions to him at the particular moment, there are innumerable times when I recognise how much he has shaped my thinking, not just by the things he’s said but his life work. In such moments, I feel an immense sense of gratitude. In such moments I am overwhelmed by sadness.

Loyalty was something he valued. Life, for Harry, centred on genuine relationships over success or power. He valued and fiercely protected friendships.  Our friendship too was defined by absolute trust. Harry J didn’t trust easily. He assessed, weighed, let words and actions define the particular person. But when he did trust someone, it was for life. He would stand by friends through thick or thin, regardless of costs. That’s a measure of the man’s sincerity. A man’s word was his bond; that’s how it was for Harry. Once trust was established, there was no room for interference, misunderstanding, and most of all, no chance whatsoever of betrayal. Our conversations were unguarded. We didn’t have to second-guess. That, to me, is a rare and precious bond. 

Harry loved challenges. He was, as mentioned, fearless. This doesn’t mean he walked into difficult situations with his eyes closed. He did his homework. He didn’t skim over the small print. He was meticulous when it came to assessing the pros and cons of any situation, be it in business or otherwise. Once he committed himself, he poured energy, passion and resources without fear. There was no retreat as far as he was concerned. He never gave up, whether it was a difficult business negotiation or standing up firmly for a friend. Harry was an unbelievable fighter. He believed in seeing things through no matter how tough it was. 

We spent a great deal of time together and therefore understood each other well. Harry always gave me sound advice: practical, thoughtful, and rooted in experience. It was the kind of guidance that stayed with me shaping decisions long after the conversation ended. It is not that I ask myself, ‘what would Harry have done had he been in my shoes?’ I go ahead and later realise, ‘that’s what Harry would have wanted me to do.’

Harry J is an iconic businessman and industrialist. He was in fact a kind of King Midas of Sri Lankan enterprise; whatever he touched, prospered. The fearlessness, the uncompromising relentlessness and attention to detail are unmatched

He was a religious man in his own way. A devout Catholic, he exemplified the ethics associated with those convictions. He did what he believed was right, and privileged truth and friendship over success or power.

It’s been a year. That’s a long time and yet it’s as though it was just the other day that he called me and in his booming voice greeted me as always with ‘Lokka’ and I would respond with the same one-word address with similar enthusiasm, ‘Lokka.’  He is missed. Immensely. It was such a privilege to have known him. It is, one might say, an obligation to remember. It is not just that. He just cannot be forgotten.