A tribute to Sri Chitrasena

He was the rock
That withstood
The test of time,
The sun, the wind and the rain.

He was the mountain peak
That surveyed his domain below
In regal dignity

To us lesser folk
He was God
He was Brahma
He was Indra

When he strode the stage
Like a colossus
Yet so supple and light
We in the audience
Shivered with awe
As he strung his mighty bow
When he drew it taught
And unleashed an unerring shower
of arrows
Pulverizing to naught
His pretentious opponents -
We shivered in delight
In pulverized awe
Of this mighty man!

Yes,
He was God
He was Brahma
And he was Indra
This mighty mortal man!

The mighty Chitrasena, the regal Chitrasena, the insuperable Chitrasena has left a void in our world of the stage that a hundred generations will be unable to fill. So great was his stature. So unsurpassable was his talent. So indomitable was his spirit.

Dignified farewell

Sri Chitrasena who bade a quiet and dignified farewell to his country, many nations, a multitude of friends and a galaxy of admirers a couple of weeks ago proved to be the quiet, silent, dignified and observant man he was, even in death. Death did not conquer him. He conquered death.

Sri Chitrasena tutored and nurtured not only at least four generations of dancers, choreographers, musicians, costume designers, stage craft persons, drummers and a whole lot of stage-worthy persons, he also housed, fed and motivated the best of talents in our country in the post-war resurrection.

Budding talents such as Ananda Samarakoon, Sunil Shantha, W. D. Amaradeva, and a host of others drew inspiration from Chitrasena and blossomed into maturity.

Chitra had the good fortune - a 'Deva Varama' indeed - in meeting, tutoring a finally marrying the unsurpassable prime-ballerina of our country, Vajira, who became not only his partner in life, but also his partner in all his creations such as Karadiya, Nala-Damayanthi and Kinkini Kolama.

Vajira was the perfect partner, perfect inspiration and occasionally the perfect foil for Chitrasena's immeasurable talents and moods.

I had admired Chitra for a long time. Seen everything that he had put on stage, with Vajira. But it was much later that I came to know him well. Those were the days - in the fifties and sixties - when we lesser theatre people went from pillar to post, looking for a place to rehearse our plays. (Not that things are much better now)

Close friends

Chitra invited us to his artistic abode at Kollupitiya where the beat of drums and the heady fall of dancing feet reverberated from morning to dusk, and asked us to rehearse there, on the frontal stage. He and Vajira even broke their usual schedule to accommodate us.

Chitra would stand quietly in a corner with a knowing smile. He never made a comment on our doings except to give me a hint or two, later, mostly about 'timing' at which he was an unerring master. We became friends - close friends.

Hunuwataye Katawa

Chitra and Vajira had seen our 'Hunuwataye Katawa' more than once and they admired our work. When I was looking for a place to rehearse our next production 'Mother Courage' (Diriya Mava) in 1972, Chitra so graciously offered his place for the purpose.

Our son, Sudaraka, who was just past two at that time became a pet of the household, especially with Vaji and Uppi, and we had no problem running after him at all.

Vaji even taught him the 'war-dance' of the play that was taught to Santin Gunawardhana who played the role of Eilif in the play. Yes, we had great fun in the midst of some solid work.

We rehearsed 'Makara' too at the Chitrasena Kalayatanaya, in 1974. We even had our cast-party there.

The Chitrasena-Vajira Kalayatanaya was a national treasure, it was a vibrant, living, pulsating and dynamic cultural institution. It should have remained as a Cultural Heritage for future generations.

Unfortunately, commercialism - the new monster called the 'open economy' - which gobbled up so many things and institutions of immense cultural and social value, gobbled up this unique institution too.

I dare say it would have gobbled up Chitrasena too, had he not been the steadfast rock, the deep, silent pool of wisdom that he was.

Chitra and Vaji were gifted with a piece of land at Narahenpita, by President Chandrika Kumaratunga a few years back so that they could rebuild their Kalayatanaya - perhaps in greater grandeur. Unfortunately, land along will not spring a Cultural Institution.

It needs money and planning. Chitrasena and Vajira were not rich people. Like most artistes in this country they were people who lived their lives quietly and never complained.

I can see just a bare shed that has come up in the site - that too just recently. We could not give Sri Chitrasena his dream while he was alive.

Either the Govt. or the private sector, or both together should make that dream come true, at least for Vajira, Upekha, Anjali, Anudatta, Thajithanjani and a whole generation of students and followers of the Chitrasena - Vajira tradition.

Thought of the week

I wish there was a Guardian God to look after our trees, the rivers, the cascading springs and a whole lot of other gifts of nature from vandals, thieves and mindless, heartless racketeers.

One has to be only watchful to observe the loads of lorries, creaking with majestic looking logs of timber, that arrive at various 'timber joints' day in and day out to realize the extent of loss to our rain forests.

One often reads how some demented picnickers set fire to sacred forest land at Horton Plains and even at Sri Pada, to realize the mind freezing extent to which some of our 'fun-lovers' have descended.

The Buddha and even some of our ancient kings, had declared trees and forests as sacred and how they should be preserved.

Catching hold of one lorry load and charging the hired drivers will never solve the problem.

The racketeers, the big ones, are the rogues who should be caught and put behind bars. Perhaps those devils could never be transformed.

We should start teaching the very young how immensely valuable and essential nature is for our very existence. If things go on like this there will be nothing left of this land called Sri Lanka, except an arid desert.

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