After the play

THANK you readers, for bearing with me last week to allow me to speak about Manel, her death anniversary and the Manel Jayasena Trust Fund. And so it is back to the narrative from where I had left off, two weeks ago.

Janaki unfolded to the audience scene by scene and there was perfect silence by which we knew that we had captured them.

Mr. Wijesuriya as the wily but mollycoddled Dasaratha and Miss Piyaseeli as the (not so bewitching) Kaikei made an impressive opening, after the Namaskara song was sung and it was a smooth flow from then onwards.

There was enthusiastic applause from the audience at the end of each scene.

Miss Piyaseeli performed admirably well in her double roles. If she was not a bewitching Kaikei, she certainly was a charming Seetha. Our boy-find Wickramapala was a lovable Lakshman and he inspired a lot of applause from the friendly audience.

Mr. Anthony, Mr. Pelis performed their roles to the hilt. I played double roles too, as Rama and also as a mendicant, when Ayodhya is hit by a famine. My mendicant song, sung to a popular tune (Naame nodirana, kunu kaya dirana) met with applause and also a few coins thrown on to the stage!

Everything was organized with precision. During the interval, while the chief guests were served with refreshments (orange barley, I believe) the players - mainly the children, were treated to viskirinnga biscuits and tea. This was the work of Miss Piyaseeli and her friend, Mrs Kumarasinghe.

Thunderous applause

The first show closed to thunderous applause and we were pleased no end. Mr. Charles Barton our chief guest, walked up to the make-shift stage and congratulated us warmly. He grabbed everybody by hand - including some of the child-players - and shook their hands with absolute glee.

He grabbed my hand in both his hands and told me over and over again that it was a wonderful production. "You were pretty good as Rama, though a trifle thin, and you were superb as the mendicant. Of course, your false beard could not hide your voice. But that's okay, it's all in the game.

After all your Seetha played the other woman too. That was pretty smart of her..." And he shook Miss Piyaseeli's hand once again. "Your little delay is forgiven for a second time!" Mr Barton enthused. And then he brought out a blue coloured envelope from his bush shirt pocket and presented it to me.

"I want you to add this too for your welfare work for the children. That's very commendable work, young man..." He patted me on the back, bade goodbye to all of us once again, and then he was conducted to the road and his car - I believe by the same little 'perahera' that had brought him in.

I offered the blue envelope to my head master before he could move out of the stage, in the presence of Mr. Barton, but he too patted me on the shoulder and asked me to hand it over to Mr. Pelis, who was the treasurer to our welfare activities. Later we discovered that the blue envelope contained a gift of fifty rupees - a big some of money at that time.

Some of the spectators who came for the evening show, stayed on for the 9.30 show too. I believe some of them were parents of some of the children who took part and they would have wanted to accompany their children home after the end of the performance.

This surely would have been a new experience in their lives for the children as well as the parents.

In these villages people went to sleep by seven or the latest, by eight in the evening, unless there was an all-night Pirith chanting or a Thovil ceremony in the village. That would be a very rare occurrence indeed and would be restricted to a very few well-to-do families.

Jubilant

Children certainly would not be awake past eight. But our kids that night showed no signs of sleepiness. They were wide awake, jubilant and relishing every minute of it.

The 9.30 show started on time unlike the earlier one and we had a full house too. Word would have spread and people from the neighbouring villagers too may have poured in.

We had no chief guest as such for the second show and we invited our headmaster, Mr. Wickramasinghe to do the honours, which he gladly accepted, together with the Korale Mahattaya and the Aarachchi Mahattaya.

The late show too went off as smoothly as silk and we had rounds and rounds of applause and whistles too! We felt like warriors who had won a battle and our elation was boundless.

What remains in my mind up to this day is the sight of the children being conducted down the steps, by their proud parents with the help of a 'hulu eliya', a candle stuck inside a coconut shell or an occasional electric torch.

Some of the children - especially the little girls - were still in their costumes as fan-handlers, court dancers or attendants and caught in the glow of so many little accompanying lights, they looked like so many little angels who had just descended from the very heavens for a very special pooja at the village temple below...

Most of the mopping up operations were done by Messrs Anthony and Pelis. They saw to it that every child had an escort to accompany them home, that the remaining petromax lamps were stored away safely, to be returned to the owners the very next morning and putting away a hundred odd things like costumes, make-up, stage sets etc.

Some of the lady teachers who had come to help were taken away by Miss Piyaseeli to her lodgings for the night. She touched my hands briefly before bidding me good night and I thanked her once again for saving us from a hopeless situation.

Perhaps I should have given her a light kiss on her forehead but I was so tired at the end of the day, it would have escaped my foolish mind!

As I said earlier, I felt like a soldier who had just come back after a hard day's battle in the battle field. When I took my princely costume off my body, I felt even more tired and I laid myself down on a bed in the teacher's quarters which was full of costumes, curtains and other stuff. I must have been dozing off.

I thought I heard a couple of familiar voices. 'He isssh a good fellow machan. Yessh, our Ingrishshi Mahattya isssh a good fellow....' Said one voice. It sounded like our Loku Mahattaya's voice. 'You are a nishe fellow too Lokku Mahattaya and of courshh our Igrishshi Mahattaya issh a jolly good fellow..." That sounded like my friend Mr. Wijesuriya.

Perhaps I was dreaming..

Thought of the week

It is about garbage once again, I am sorry. There are reports that in some Municipalities such as Moratuwa and Kotte, garbage is not collected at all. We are only too well aware of the danger of the deadly Dengue springing up when too much dirt is allowed to collect and putrefy.

Many children and adults have died of Dengue. I personally know of a young mother who died at the Kalubowila hospital. (Manel too was there in the ICU at the time) That young mother had a baby of six months. Are we going to let this happen again?

The solution invariably is in incinerators. Effective incinerators. We don't have to order these from abroad.

We have plenty of engineering expertise among us to undertake their construction, working and maintenance. The present Mayor of Colombo, Prasanna Gunawardhana himself is no mean engineer as far as I am aware. And he is a very 'prasanna' person too, unless city politics has changed him!

Your honour, let's start an 'incinerator fund', if you don't have the money. I will be the first person to make a contribution. I am certain all those affected will join in gladly.

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