Our story began over 50 years ago, in our small village of Kiliveddy. We were just kids back then – playing, laughing, arguing like brothers, and making memories that would last a lifetime.

Even now, I can still picture those carefree days of our childhood. After you moved to Batticaloa, I was sent to boarding school – but I’ll never forget the weekends when you came to pick me up and brought me home with you. You would ride your bicycle all the way to my school, and I would sit on the bar in front while you pedaled us back. It was simple, but to me, it meant everything. Your kindness and your family’s love made those weekends feel like coming home.

In 1999, you married my cousin – and officially became part of my family. But honestly, Shanger, it didn’t really change anything. You had always been family to me. I think I was the happiest of all, knowing that my childhood friend was now also my relative. Life has a beautiful way of tying the right people together.

You were always a good friend – loyal, warm-hearted, and deeply caring. No matter how much time passed or where life took us, we stayed close. We visited you many times in London, and those trips were always full of laughter and long nights. I drank beer, and you stuck with juice – but somehow, you still managed to be the life of the party.

I remember when your mother gently suggested that I teach you how to drink, just so you could “join the fun” a little more. I took that job seriously – and once you joined in, things got even livelier. We had so many good times, so much joy, and so much connection through the years.

What I’ll remember most is your heart, Shanger. You had a heart that embraced everyone. You made people feel welcome, safe, and loved. You brought calmness, warmth, and laughter wherever you went. And you always made me feel like I mattered.

Thank you, my friend – for being there, for all the memories, for your loyalty, and for your love.

You may be gone, but you will forever live in my heart.

Rest well, Shanger – until we meet again.