My husband and I first met Deloraine Brohier in 1960 when the three of us were returning from the UK on board the ship SS Oronsey. She and I have been friends ever since. Therefore, it was not a surprise when I had an unusual premonition a few days before she passed away that made me go out and buy and address a Birthday card for her even though I knew her birthday was in April--on the Tamil and Sinhala New Year Day.
She and I just took to each other and even my husband accepted her as a friend. A short time after returning to Sri Lanka, we met her gracious and sincere parents Dr and Mrs R L Brohier. Theirs was a home full of love, and it was obvious that Deloraine adored her father. Dr R L Brohier is well known for his writing on the Dutch heritage in Sri Lanka and other interesting old buildings. It was almost natural that Deloraine herself became a writer. Dr Brohier was posthumously honoured for his work by the Queen of Netherlands, an award that Deloraine accepted on his behalf.
Deloraine’s marriage which had taken place soon after she graduated had failed even before it started. Maybe, being over cautious after that experience , she never married again.
When we first knew Deloraine she was working at Radio Ceylon. It still makes me smile when I recall how she made me give a talk on Deepavali over the radio.She later worked in the United Nations office in Colombo. She travelled abroad many times and toured most parts of our beautiful country. Often, foreign artists and writers would seek her out on their visit to Sri Lanka.
Two of the books written by Deloraine are, The Saga of the Colombo Club, and A taste of Sugar and Spice.
Our friendship continued for the last fifty six years. In the sixties and early seventies we formed groups and attended end of the year dances with friends who enjoyed ballroom dancing. Whenever we were in Sri Lanka she would invite us for drinks on Christmas eve and we would invite her over for Thai Pongal. Deloraine enjoyed attending plays and musical performances. Living close to the Russian Cultural Centre , she and I would go over to watch some of the old films.
After her parents passed away her brother moved to Australia and her sister to New Zealand, leaving her in charge of the house and its contents. This house by the sea became more of a burden than an asset, at the last stages. Whenever I asked why she did not sell she would say “But Chitra, what do I do with Daddy’s books and papers. She hung in there and managed alone courageously, but the last few years were not easy.
Deloraine’s letters were always beautifully written. I treasure the letter she wrote to me after my husband passed away. My behaviour on the day prior to her passing away warned me that something was wrong but I did not want to believe it. I found the letter and read the beautiful poem she had written -”The end of the road is but a bend in the road.” by Helen Steiner Rice.
When I stop to think about it, I find our friendship was an unusual one. She was an intellectual type and I, a practical type. But, we came together finding affection, trust, comfort, and laughter in each other’s company. She found it easy to confide in me her problems, be they personal, financial or domestic. She was a very sincere, loving person with absolutely no conceit. Her mind remained sharp and clear to the end.
The last paragraph of her last letter to me says- “Chitra my special friend--memories reach back to years gone by----Granny making breudher, family dinners, carols and dances----all that was joyful.”
Rest in peace my very dear friend. Hope we meet again .
Chitra Kasilingam