I am very fortunate to have had a father who was very loving and very wise. In some ways he was a natural philosopher. He once told me that in his youth he had been interested in studying philosophy. He went along to see one of the philosophy professors to talk about it. ‘Why do you want to study philosophy?’ the professor asked. ‘Because I want to find some answers’ my father replied. ‘To study philosophy you have to formulate a question’ was the professor’s response. My father went away rather perplexed by this and didn’t pursue the matter. Yet to question was at the very heart of his personality. It was the first word of his business motto and he put it into practice all his life. He questioned because he had a bright intelligence and was always eager to expand his knowledge. He questioned because he didn’t necessarily accept perceived wisdom on a subject but wanted to explore it for himself. Among the many tributes my mother and I have been touched to receive over the last week, one colleague wrote that he was ‘always willing to enjoy a robust debate on just about any topic you could mention’ and I can vouch for this from my own experience. My father also asked questions because he was interested in people. As an adult he retained the lively curiosity about almost everything which is such an appealing characteristic in children and is often lost in later years. Whenever he was in a new place with new people he wanted to interact with them and understand them. He had a great sociability and warmth of character combined with an innate sense of modesty which endeared him to others. He usually made an immediate impression as someone with great personal charisma and people were charmed by his sense of humour and the twinkle in his eye. He was a particularly gracious host, always at the centre of any social occasion at which he was present and I am sad to think that this is the last occasion at which he will be at the very centre. Among my own friends, typical comments were ‘your dad’s lovely’ or ‘your father’s very wise’. When he visited me in Italy in recent years, he acquired a new audience. On one occasion over dinner he regaled a fascinated group with stories of his childhood in Sri Lanka, which was one of his favourite topics of conversation. His paternal roots in Sri Lanka were very strong and he always made time in a very busy schedule to keep up with important events in the lives of the extended family who are now scattered throughout the world. He also enjoyed an exceptional bond with his English mother: he was her first child and he was born on her birthday. Rajan’s qualities of warmth, vitality, and wisdom were also recognized by his work colleagues and friends within the IT and consulting professions where he was widely seen as an innovator and pioneer. He was actively involved in many of the most significant bodies within these professions -- the British Computer Society (BCS), the Worshipful Company of Management Consultants, the Institute of Engineering and Technology, the Richmond Group, the Operational Research Society – and made an important contribution to each. His sociable qualities, unfussy approach and wide knowledge and experience made him an ideal facilitator of knowledge exchange between academic and professional institutions, private and public sector organizations, and the public. At the BCS he worked tremendously hard at both local and national level and was given a meritorious achievement award for exceptional dedication, activity and enthusiasm. He held many positions within the BCS at different times, and most recently was elected as Trustee in 2010 – a post from which he was forced to resign because of illness. He was not afraid to stand up and speak out if he thought something was not right or should be improved, even if this sometimes brought him into conflict with others. He was an optimist but he was also a realist. Although Rajan’s activities were not limited to one place, he had a particular attachment to London, where he had studied at Imperial College like his father before him, and the family was very proud to be present when he was given the Freedom of the City in 2000. Rajan was a founder member of the Guild of Management Consultants and became successively a freeman and then a liveryman as the Guild progressed to being a Company and then the Worshipful Company of Management Consultants. I am informed that the Clerk of the Company has received a flood of personal messages of regret over the past few days, showing that Rajan was held in great respect and even greater affection by his peers. In recent months Rajan’s close family has had the sadness of witnessing his quality of life diminished as the result of a series of health problems. It was hard to see a man who had been so physically and mentally vital struggling to deal with the most basic of tasks, but we are very grateful to the staff at the home at Barnfield in which he spent the last year of his life for the care and attention which they provided for him there. Even in these reduced circumstances, Rajan’s capacity to inspire affection and admiration remained undiminished. ‘He was a real gentleman ... so polite ... so easy to talk to’ were some of the comments from the carers there. I am very fortunate to have had such a father and I am grateful for all that he taught me. Just as his parents and grandparents had done with their children before him, he tried to instil in me a strong sense of right and wrong, but not in a narrow or dogmatic way. As a child I vividly remember him reading me biblical stories such as the Parable of the Talents, and others like Aesop’s Fables, the Just So Stories, Hindu myths – all chosen with a view to making me understand universal principles which were applicable to everyday life. From the tributes we have received over the last week it is clear that his work colleagues also valued his advice, his compassion, and his practical common sense. One of the most moving messages of condolence came from the Mauritius Section of the BCS. They said: ‘When a house has just lost its soul, a stricken silence falls over the sudden emptiness that no one will fill again.’ My father’s death will leave a void in my life, in the lives of my mother and my uncles, and in the lives of all those relatives, friends, and colleagues whom he touched in some way. © Rowena Anketell 2012