Written in January 2016
and published
here:
After three successful days in
Colombo, Ruwanthie and team headed out to India – to perform in Kashmir, New
Delhi and Trivandrum. The play, a Sri Lanka- Rwanda collaboration became an
instant favourite among the art loving people in Trivandrum when it was
presented on the second day of the festival.
The most outstanding feature of the
play was its international nature. The play is a dramatic presentation of
memories of thirty elders interviewed both in Sri Lanka and Rwanda, and their
interpretation of incidents, conflicts and way of life. Presented in three
parts, it is a collection of personal journeys and, hence, a subjective
elucidation of memoirs of a generation.
The dramatist was able to juxtapose
the history of two countries from two different continents, Asia and Africa
through the memories of a generation born in the 1930s. This is different from
how we have known history, which is usually through the eyes of a historian.
The audience is able to take a journey back through several decades as the play
unfolds; a journey that displays the richness of a generation; their pain,
their regrets about what they did and did not do right; their innocence and
simplicity that prevailed in a society that valued extended families and the
related customs. By subtly portraying the nuances of seven decades, the play
poignantly tries to connect with the new generation to convey a very strong
message; that is to avoid the mistakes of an older generation. This is the most
important lesson one takes away from this play; a reminder not to repeat
history. It is also a reminder to preserve what has been fought for and won,
and not to re-ignite parochialism.
Rwanda and Sri Lanka strike a similar
chord in recollecting memories of a bloodied past. The elders who were
interviewed in two different times and space convey similar pain and loss. The
play powerfully portrays how the colonial rulers sowed the seeds of ethnic
division among innocent Rwandans in the 1930s by their divide and rule policy.
Although the world silently watched the bloodied genocide in Rwanda in the
1990s, it is still debated and researched on, in most post-conflict situations.
Needless to say, the audience watched the manipulations of the ‘white man’ with
awe, as it struck a chord with their own colonial past.
The play’s subtle humour and
symbolism enthralled the satire-loving Keralites. When Lankan independence was
referred to as a ‘gift’ in comparison to the prolonged independence struggle
that India went through, the applause became deafening. So, it was when the
play employed humour in portraying how, a ‘Sinhala only’ language policy
excluded the Tamils over time and denied Tamil equal status as an official language.
By symbolically placing a bus with drivers who chanted the Sinhala only mantra,
the play highlighted one of the most sensitive issues in Sri Lanka’s protracted
conflict; how language divided two ethnic communities. One of the quotes by the
elders alluded to the fact, how post-independent Sri Lanka could not continue
what the British united, in terms of ethnic harmony.
The two youth insurrections in Sri
Lanka were witnessed by the audience with utmost silence. The violent portrayal
of the disillusionment of a young generation would resonate with any audience,
especially Keralites. The burning issue of unemployment is not new to
Keralites, where left wing student movements had always been strong although
Kerala has not had bloody insurrections like its island neighbour.
The second part of the play that
dealt with how the generation in the 1930s viewed love, marriage and sex was
greeted with loud applause and hearty laughter. Marriage happened between two
families – the parents decided and the young followed. Privacy was unheard of;
but the institution never wavered due to the support of families involved and
society. Dowry was common; but it never was a social evil.
The third part essentially summed up
the bloodbath both countries witnessed; how gradually, but surely, a generation
and the society it represented lost their human touch. Violent scenes of truth
and haunted memories dominated this concluding section – a rare visual treat.
Ruwanthi, whose writing has always
remained socially significant, has once again displayed her acumen. As the
saying in Sanskrit goes, Nadakantham Kavithwam, the craft of a dramatist is
revealed at the end of a play. ‘Dear Children, Sincerely’, was testimony to
this.
A play comes alive through its actors
and the ensemble. The unique international nature of actors made all the
difference in the play. Art has no barriers; no language; only a common thread
of artistry and the ability to evoke emotions. This was well spelt out in this
play, loud and clear. The actors conquered the stage and the audience by
flaunting the flexibility of their bodies and their measured, energetic
movements. They became symbols of history, of a generation, whose value is
often forgotten; whose memories are not well documented or archived. This play,
now adapted in seven other countries, has attempted to fill this gap, which is
to be applauded. The mise-en-scene well fitted the mood and message of the
play.
During the question and answer
session a few questions became relevant – why the good developments during the
seven decades didn’t find a place in the play? Why does Sri Lanka, being a
Buddhist country witness so much of bloodshed and violence? “Memories are
subjective, we remember what we choose to; and these are recollections of the
elders interviewed; this is their memory and hence very subjective” answered
Ruwanthie in response to the first question. One of her team members tried to
address the second question; “Buddhism is not understood in its true spirit by
its followers, and that probably justifies.” As a member of the audience, I
could feel this was discussed by people, leaving the theatre, still relishing
the outstanding performance of the evening.
My experience and feelings were
unique that evening. Born and bred in Trivandrum, after living almost two
decades in Colombo, witnessing massive socio-political changes and working in
related fields, it was a rare opportunity to watch the dramatic representation
of the history of a country, of which I have intrinsically become a part.
-Anila S.K.
