Dr. Yves Sugunaraj Christopher – written by Suvendrini H. C. Christopher-Schuhmann, EDD
Dr. Yves Sugunaraj Christopher
written by Suvendrini H. C. Christopher-Schuhmann, EDD
His qualifications:
MB BS. (Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor of Surgery),
FRANZCP. (Fellow of the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists),
MRCPsych. (Member of the Royal College of Psychiatrists)
DPM (Diploma in Psychological Medicine), DCH. (Diploma in Child Health)
Consultant Psychiatrist, Assistant Professor Emeritus at Delmont Private Hospital.
We wish you a Happy Father’s Day for 2025 and a Happy 90th Birthday.
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Your Ever-loving Family, Craig Schuhmann (son-in-law), Camille Schuhmann (granddaughter) and Suvendrini (Only child and daughter)
In tribute and honor to a nonagenarian, stately, brown gentleman who began his adult life as yet another Jaffna boy out in the diaspora. Dr. Yves Sugunaraj Christopher is entering his 90th decade on this earth on January 1st, 2026. He has described himself as a quiet, humble, and peace-loving man.
I would agree, but as his only child and daughter, he was my hero, and in my devoted mind, everyone else’s too. To my parents’ dismay, I was always making friends with people around me, which led to them spending much of their time searching for and calling me. Invariably, I would announce that my father was a doctor and that he could probably help when I found myself attending to a new friend who was in the throes of distress. I would offer to bring him to my new friend, sure that all will be well eventually. In his quiet professional manner, he would dispense what he could to help the distressed individual, leading me back to where I came from.
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Sri Lanka, the United Kingdom, Singapore, and Australia have been the places where he has fully engaged in his profession. His peers would agree with him as they too have described him as a quiet, efficient, well-educated, knowledgeable man of great accomplishment and achievement. He holds the maturity, grace, and wisdom of a talented psychiatrist and pediatrician, with the skills of critical thinking, common sense, and the creative artistry of a diagnostician. And yet, Dr. Christopher exudes a contagious, playful, ever-youthful dynamism.
In his 40s, he was deeply embedded in his career and consulted at Woodbridge Psychiatric Hospital in Singapore. I visited him on school holidays and found him hard at work with his usual charming, gentlemanly demeanor, paving his way in professional as well as personal relationships. I spent a lot of time with my father in Singapore, and I had a wonderful time being the doted-upon only daughter, enjoying my dedicated time with my father.
I went everywhere with him and would find myself waiting around at the offices he consulted at, reading through heaps of books that I had bought from the local second-hand book seller or trying to make myself useful in some way. Surely, I thought, I must follow in my father’s footsteps and work towards training to be a professional working at a hospital. He must have found something important missing, though, because the next decade of his life was a flurry of activity, change, and transition.
The 50s were impressive and dynamic years for my father, as I recall. He chose to fly into action to cover the ground he wanted to with the years left. My father divorced his first wife, my mother, obtained custody of their only child, me, passed several medical examinations, and qualified with yet another batch of medical professional achievements. He continued to collect those shining letters in stars after his name. In 1986, my father dropped me off at college in Hesston, Kansas, in the USA. He returned to Singapore, where he had settled for a decade or so, and applied for immigration to Australia for himself and me. He was instantly accepted, and, consequently, I was too.
My father began his life in Australia in the position of Clinical Director and Administrator of a Psychiatric Hospital in a small coastal town in Victoria named Warnambool. This is where I came for summer holidays after my first year of College in the U. S., I could tell that he was going through an adjustment period. He was figuring out that he was not so keen on the administrative tasks, and he enjoyed his clinical work immensely. I was finally introduced and immediately overwhelmed by his community of Sri Lankan batchmates, friends, and peers, who lived in Melbourne and other Australian cities.
He would make the drive from Warrnambool to Melbourne frequently. After a year, he decided to move to Melbourne. He was back in the arms of his lifelong chums and enjoyed every opportunity to entertain and be entertained in each other’s homes, with their families. They could be uncles to each other’s children. Two of these individuals stand out to me. Dr. Channa Wijesinghe (Deceased, June 1st, 1934 -September 18th, 2022), and Dr. Anton Mariadason (Deceased, January 1, 1936 – October 22nd, 2019). What would these two wise men have to say about Yves. I wish I knew. They were lovely men, and my affection for them was influenced by the happiness I saw in my father when with them.
My father’s agency was instrumental in the changes that were rapidly ensconced in his life, and consequently, so was mine. He would continue to make professional and personal changes for a few more years and finally settle into a rhythm. He flourished in private practice and added the position of assistant professor in teaching psychiatry at Delmont Private Hospital to his portfolio. He did not retire till he was in his octogenarian years. His retirement has been a gift to him as he has had the time to reflect and fully engage in the wisdom and experience of years. I frequently attempt to put pen to paper to capture this amazing quality of life, but, to my dismay, I only seem able to put words to the tip of the iceberg. What I mean to say is there is so much more to this human being than I, his progeny, can describe.
What has led to his longevity? I ask. He comes from good stock. True, and yet we have many unexplained deaths among the young men of our immediate family. He takes excellent care of himself, addressing all manner of concerns with the specialty professionals he consults. He has had several operations in his life and recently allowed his doctor to place a pacemaker in his heart. I do think he must be a lovely patient to work with, despite the bias that doctors are the worst patients. There is more to this answer, but you would have to ask him yourself.
My father comes from a strong Ayurvedic medicine and Roman Catholic lineage. His father would have been a Catholic priest if not for meeting his mother, and many of his ancestors where practicing Ayurvedic medicine. So, when a classical Western musician meets a classical Eastern musician, heaven showers blessings. They had three boys who were considered the three tenors of their community, singing with their church choirs.
My Father does have a lovely voice. Whenever he found a complimentary accompanist, he aimed to please and bring us closer to God. In retirement, my father has a usual routine followed by many educational pursuits to keep his mind engaged and agile, as well as age- appropriate exercise to keep his body strong. This, too, must contribute to his longevity. I pray that my Father continues to be blessed for many more years of high-quality living.
I draw this moment of reflection to a close with love, gratitude, and ever-flourishing adoration for the very human and yet dynamic man that is my father, Dr. Yves Sugunaraj Christopher. I thank God for him and place him as always back in the Almighty’s tender and loving care, as he does so much good for God among his creation.
