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By D.C. Ranatunga
Cultural activities should indeed be regarded as a medium of imbuing empathy among the populace. In fact, cultural activity should be recognised as a vehicle that has advanced and will advance civilisations and nations.
Sri Lanka is presently yearning for a mature nation founded on its historical cultural values, and not a deceitful society, based on selfishness, false promises, led by power-hungry leaders, as it is today. It is to be hoped that we may see the rebirth of a civilised nation that is culturally rich, where empathy and ethical values prevail.
May our nation be led by benevolent politicians, with a leader who is tough and spirited but altruistic and a dignified statesman, in the mould of Ravana of our Legendaria, at the helm!
Thus writer, dramatist, director, producer Namel Weeramuni ends his autobiography – ‘Sailed I on Life, like a lark in the sky’ – discussing a most fruitful era in the field of art and culture in Sri Lanka.
A name synonymous with theatre, he is arguably the most senior in the field today. I was fortunate to know him and to closely follow his progress. Even for those who did not know him in the early years, ‘Punchi Theatre’ in Borella will always ring a bell about the ‘arty couple’ – Namel and wife Malini.
Covering over 500 pages Namel has presented his life story in a most readable fashion. As the back cover write-up says: ‘It is a fascinating record of the lives of a remarkable couple’. “A bundle of chance experiences – dictator of my own life” is how he introduces himself. As the saying goes ‘See to believe’, here it’s ‘Read to know’.
At the time he and I grew up, the lifestyle out of Colombo was quite different to that in the city.
The children started schooling in the village school. Namel vividly remembers his first day in school: “Piyadasa Loku Mahattaya was tall and smart, dressed in white cloth and jacket, and a pair of black shoes. His hair was silky white with a big knot tied in the back. He epitomized sternness. I spotted on his table a long guava cane and wondered why it was there. May be if I or someone did something wrong it would be used to punish us. He checked the birth certificate that Amma gave him and enrolled me as a student of the school. Amma signalled me to go round the table and worship him. I did so. He touched my head to bless me and took me to the primary class. I looked back at Amma and Aiya. I felt lonely.”
Wonder how many readers would know about the Second World War. Namel admits he did not understand what it was but heard elders talking about it. During the war years the school provided free meals for breakfast and lunch. The children heard the teachers discussing what was going on.
“They had in front of them the open pages of the ‘Dinamina’, in which the very familiar photographs of Adolf Hitler, Winston Churchill and Roosevelt were widely displayed. We knew they were the heroes who were fighting for their countries. There were especially big photographs of Churchill and Hitler filling the front page of the paper. I liked them best. May be I like them because they had dramatic expressions on their faces and looked ferocious. Particularly Hitler, with his square-like moustache, stretching his fist forward at about sixty-five degrees up, and his striking posture was one image that got etched in my mind for ever.”
Calling, as most of us do, that the days at the university in Peradeniya in the latter part of the 1950s one of the most memorable periods, he says that he “enjoyed to the hilt every moment of my life in the university, doing everything I wanted to do without exception”.
Apart from sports, theatre was his passion “which propelled me to the arena of dramatic arts around which my entire life revolved.” He unhesitatingly admits that he is “totally indebted to Professor Sarachchandra for paving the way for me to be immersed in the theatrical world”.
He adds: “He fathered me into the world of the arts not through lectures and teaching, but suggestively implying that all forms of serious theatre and drama is deeply rooted in societal intercourse and shapes our lives. Indeed, it the world of theatre and its near religious nuances that made my life meaningful.”
He had closely observed how Prof. Sarachchandra trained the actors at rehearsals telling them that an actor must understand the inner souls of all the other characters too intermixing with them. It is through that process he expected an actor to bring a character to life.
Namel brings back memories of how we saw classic films and listened to leading politicians of the day and other invited speakers at the Arts Theatre.
After his university career, spending a fairly long stint in London in the 1970s, Namel arranged for Sinhala dramas either directed by him or where he acted, to be staged.
Towards the end of the book Namel discusses the response of well-known dramatists to the Punchi Theatre. At the start while Henry Jayasena used the place for rehearsals of his new production of ‘Hunuwataye Kathawa’, Simon Nawagattegama’s ‘Suba Saha Yasa’ was the first play that the Punchi Theatre marketed and staged.
In the final chapter (99) titled ‘The Epilogue’ Namel refers to his latest effort, ‘Ravana Sithabhilashaya’ end of last year. After a successful run at Punchi Theatre he had planned to stage it other parts of the country but could not proceed due to the April catastrophe.
As mentioned earlier, readers will enjoy a well-compiled life story of ‘a man of many parts’.