June 28, 2017

A High-Energy Sri Lankan-Rwandan Play Interspersed with History and Conflict

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.


May 22, 2017

Testimonies of Silent Pain

The Social Architects of Colombo had organised a book launch yesterday.  “Testimonies of Pain” is a collection of stories in Sinhala and Tamil by people who lived the pain and agony of a protracted conflict. The war is over, but the conflict still lingers.

This collection is a ‘marriage between feelings and facts’ as one of the speakers said.
Listening to all the speakers, I could only guess the unfathomable pain that made ordinary people write extraordinary stories so deeply. Some of them never wrote either before or after. But they just wrote the stories they chose to tell; because they had to. Life's experiences do make people think and do things they never thought they were capable of.

The pain of a minority dominated by a majoritarian state and the perceived discrimination and marginalization meted out to the minority. The colossal destruction of war and the lives lost. Opportunities missed. Smiles stolen. Festering wounds. Haunting memories. All these, I gathered were in this collection, for which I will need a translation in English to grasp. But, I saw and felt the passion with which people spoke.  I heard Dharmasiri Bandaranayake – a leading playwright and film maker – speak with regret and remorse of how a community lost its collective conscience, battered by war.  How policies got shaped by parochialism, how art lost its due place to connect hearts and minds.  Because, it was all politics and war that had dominated many decades in Sri Lanka.

The cultural interludes in the ceremony by young artists were refreshing.  A Eastern Sri Lanka dance form that looked like an all-male version of Dandiya was interesting for its lack of perfection and background rendition by a very old man. His broken voice and forced breathing gave a raw authenticity to the art form. His rendition reminded me of the singing and chanting of Dervish dancers I saw in Sudan, who drive thousands to a Suphi ecstasy, every Friday in a mosque, until the sun went down. Clad in colorful gowns, the whirling performers would drown themselves in what would look like a union of spiritual ecstasy and unbridled emotions.
 
A short play directed by Dharmasiri Bandaranayake reflected a ghastly incident that took place in the heart of Colombo a few years back, where a mentally challenged young Tamil boy was beaten to death in sea, until as the footage showed, his blood mixed with the greyish-blue waters of the ocean.  A stark reminder of how things were as bad, and a much stronger reminder that time has come to heal and move forward.

The young bhajan singers from Mylapur, Chennai, just gave a slice of Chennai Carnatic bhajans. Energetic. Voice controlled. Even a beat was not missed.


May 21, 2017

Yes, She Bobbitised. A Simple,Young, Kerala Woman.


Two days ago, a young woman in Kerala bobbitised a local godman, in an act of self-defense and vengeance. Castration is thus no more a hyperbole in Kerala; it just got real. This incident could be just a beginning; a warning.

The 23 year old brave woman, a victim of the self-proclaimed Swamy’s rape spree for 5-6 years had remained silent all these years. What is even more shocking is that the victim’s own mother had been conniving with him to abuse her daughter. The mother had been a ‘devotee’ of this Swamy – that kind of devotion that ended in bed, you see.

 I am unable to even exclaim. Period.

The doctors in the State capital saved the life of the godman who is recuperating, still clad in saffron in his hospital bed. The saffron is still important to him.

While the girl is being lauded by several, including the Chief Minister of the State, it would be interesting to see the legal implications that the girl may have to face.  Will she be protected by the law? I would be interested to know that, as this could set the precedence.

 With increasing sexual abuses, the criminal laws had been amended, much greater awareness has been generated among the public, and girls have become stronger. Yet, the abuse continues. Why? To put it simplistically, even at the cost of sounding too general,  only women and girls seemed to have changed, not men.

Probably it is high time and the right time to take a step back and consolidate our thinking, while protests, reactions and subsequent mass responses can continue. All these years, we have taught our girls to ‘behave,’ ‘protect,’ ‘conform’ ‘adjust,’ ‘dress appropriate,’ ‘sit properly,’ and such endless list of must-and-musn’t dos – all because there is a predator out there, waiting to pounce on her. What do we tell our boys? What expectations do we have of them? What do we tell our men?  

Time for a paradigm shift? Gender sensitization, still largely focuses on women. We continue to talk to women how to protect / how to remain safe. While this is absolutely fundamental to bring out any positive change or impact, this does not complete the nexus between abuse and protection, as the abusers or prospective abusers are still largely kept out of this discourse.  It has to encompass boys, at a very early stage in their development. What if we include gender studies as a subject in schools from upper primary level? What if we change the gender stereotyping in lower primary text books (sometimes with graphic descriptions too)? What if we teach the need to not objectify women?  Possible? Plausible to break away from patriarchy?  At least five generations from now?
This is also the interesting part. Kerala brags itself to be a good trendsetter on HDI levels.  It is a literate state; the leftist legacy has empowered women.  

Quite coincidentally, just last week I read an article and watched a Ted video and thought that the records sure are impressive.  This Ted Talk even says Washington DC is not as healthy as Kerala: (https://www.ted.com/talks/hans_rosling_asia_s_rise_how_and_when
And the article expressed "16 reasons we need to acknowledge that Kerala has always been killing it." The 16 points covered laudable indicators of HDI and several other socio-economic milestones reached ((https://www.buzzfeed.com/andreborges/16-reasons-we-need-to-acknowledge-that-kerala-has-always-bee?utm_term=.qlVWLQmEL&sub=4480366_10686334#.io7OzxpVz)).

This is all true. But there is more to it than meets the eye. Or the statistics.

 Women still suffer from sexual assaults. Something is not connecting.  With all the leading indicators, we still cannot effectively ensure safety of our women and girls. We still cannot terminate those vulgar looks and comments in public places. Whatever measures taken - either through law or activism seem woefully inadequate. It seems that we can respect a woman only when she is housed in a temple in the form of goddess Durga. Incredible for a place that God is supposed to have chosen to call its own.