Janelaya dubbed a futuristic play

Somadasa Elvitigala, our "Music master" was a very shy man. In spite of the enthusiasm of the medicos, he was reluctant to see a 'Western' doctor. I asked him why. "Aiyo Henry, it seems these 'Dostara Mahattayas' examine you all over! My God, I would rather suffer with my backache...' Was his reply.

I conveyed his fears quietly to Raja Salgado, Bandara Seneviratne and a few others who were going to take Somu to see a Rheumatologist. They assured him that there will be no such thing as removing his clothes and that it would just be a physical examination to find out what was wrong with his back.

Somu finally agreed, with still a lot of reluctance and finally a date and time was fixed for the examination. It was a couple of dates later I came to know what had happened.

The doctor had examined the patient for any spinal problems, had ordered a couple of X-rays etc. and had wanted to examine the patient more closely. He was, in fact asked to remove his long national shirt and his verti - the doctor had wanted to 'measure' the patient from side to side to check if there was any discrepancy in his bone structure.

Poor Somu was sweating by now and with a lot of persuation had agreed to remove only his long shirt. The good humoured Rheumatologist had agreed to let it go at that and had asked a physiotherapist to measure him from side to side. They had soon found out the cause of the problem.

It appeared that one side meaning one side of his frame - was ever so slightly shorter and in giving more weight to that side, Somu's spinal chord had come into a lot of strain and that was the reason for the pain.

The doctor had asked Somu to fix an extra bit of heel and sole to the 'culprit' side sandal (Somu always wore sandals) and check if that would make a difference.

Somu had followed the doctor's instructions to the letter and when he turned up for the next rehearsal he was beaming! His backache was gone ! The backache that had bothered him for years had simply disappeared! He thanked the boys profusely and they too were all smiles.

But I could see a glint of mischief in their smiles. Somu was in excellent mood. "They tried to strip me Henry... And I was sweating with embarrassment. Anyway, finally I agreed to take off my long shirt and that was quite adequate. If not for that kind doctor, these mischievous fellows would have stripped me naked....!" Somu declared with a broad smile and that was that.

Tough time

After the 'magical' cure, Somu was much more regular at rehearsals and we were pleased no end. He had a tough time getting the actors to stay in 'pitch' and sing without faltering. He gave everything he had to achieve a degree of acceptance. And then we found that Edward Senanayake (Director) could not tackle his 'Dance of Death' try as he might.

After a hell of a lot of trying, one day I told him, "Look Edward you can do it.. Just follow the beat of the drum and imagine you are going to jump out of the window. " Edward looked at me hard, his eyes shining like two tiny pebbles, and without a word he got onto the stage and started moving. It was in fact frightening - too frightening.

I thought he could harm himself with that kind of gyration. I stopped him immediately, patted him on the shoulder, told him I was sorry and asked him to relax for the rest of the evening. "I will find another person - a real dancer, who would be 'doubling' for you for the dance only.." I told Edward later and he looked so relieved. In fact that was exactly what we did.

I got my friend P.A.C. Perera, the man who played the role of Sanda Kindua in Gunasena Galappatty's production to help me. He was of the same build as Edward. We got a similar costume made and PAC glided onto the stage in a split second darkness to perform the Dance of Death for 'Director'. Nobody detected the ploy. PAC was a lithe dancer and he did extremely well.

There were no other major problems with our production. The young men and women enjoyed the experience and I was very happy working with them. Raja Wannakukorale, as I had imagined at first sight, turned out to be a superb 'Abittaya' and it was he who relieved the tension in the audience in the rather 'heavy' boarding scenes, with his pithy humour.

Raja was undoubtedly the best 'Abittaya' I had in all my production of Janelaya - and I had at least four.

We became a friendly lot. The men and women involved with the play treated me like an elder brother. Occasionally, after a tiring rehearsal a few of us would visit a bar near the Punchi Borella junction to enjoy a cool beer. These were boys well above 18 and I did not consider enjoying a beer with them as 'bad'. Once however we got into bit of a soup because of this.

We were enjoying a nice cool beer discussing our production, its progress and other things, when one of the patrons of the bar came over and lispingly asked us if he could sit with us. Even before we could agree or politely refuse his request he slumped down on one of the vacant chairs and started jabbering.

We knew our quiet evening was busted but could do nothing else but sit quietly, staring into our glasses. A couple of 'catchers' who had accompanied the inebriated man, sat apart and were watching the scene.

Bad sign

Suddenly the man stretched out an alcohol-wasted arm with dirty gnarled fingers at the end of it and shot a slurry question at us. 'What issh thisssh...?" He demanded to know. We ignored him and kept our silence. The man became even more nasty and repeated the question in a louder and harsher voice. "What issh thisssh?" He thundered.

By now we were also beginning to lose our cool - in spite of the cool beer ! I noticed a corner of Edward Senanayake's mouth twitching and knew that it was a bad sign. "That's a vulgar hand with its nails full of dirt!" Blurted out Edward before anyone of us could intervene.

The man looked more glazed than amazed. He gave us a dirty grin and pointed at one of the many ring he was wearing on his dirty fingers. "Not the bloody hand, man, what isssh thisssh?" He demanded sticking a finger from his right hand into one of the rings.

By now his catchers as well as some of the waiters of the pub had approached our table and were trying to persuade the intruder to leave. "That's one of the ugliest rings I have ever seen....!" said Edward as calmly as he possibly could.

The man was furious at the insult. 'Nooo man, thisssh here is not a ring... It isssh...." And he uttered one of the dirtiest words in the Sinhala language. "It isssh.... so and so's.....!"

The man was finally dragged away from the place and we were saved an inevitable outburst from Edward. We were told by the waiters that the man was a funeral undertaker in the vicinity and that this was his 'normal' behaviour after a few drinks. 'Why do you tolerate such an offensive customer?" Someone wanted to know.

"Although he behaves badly sometimes, he is a useful customer, sir.." was the reply. "He is quite a philanthropist and he is the man who spends for the annual Vesak pandal in our junction..." the waiter concluded.

By now our beer had become quite tasteless, bitter and stale. We left our glasses as they were, paid the bill and left the place. That was the last time we 'went out for a beer' after rehearsals. I think that man taught us a good lesson! We staged Janelaya at the Lumbini Theatre, Hv. Town on the 20 and 21 of August, 1961. Both days we had houseful audiences, mainly medical students, their friends and relatives, their teachers and of course some 'theatre enthusiasts' who never missed a new play during those golden times. There was plenty of applause too from a 'friendly' audience and the players were pleased no end. We had a few repeat shows in Colombo and wound up.

Almost all those involved were final year students and they could not possibly devote any more time to play-acting even if there was a demand. I cannot remember taking the 'medical' Janelaya for any outstation performances.

Futuristic play

It must be mentioned that the cost of the play was borne by D. E. De S. Karunaratne of Layard's Road, Havelock Town - a benevolent friend of Raja Salgadoe.

Mr. S. F. de Silva, then Director of Education, two of whose sons were also involved in our production as office bearers of the Society of Arts of the Medical Faculty, visited back stage after the performance. He congratulated me for daring to stage a 'futuristic' play.

"You know Henry, you should stage this play 20 years hence to make its impact to be appreciated properly. The lonely men and women cooped up in boarding rooms and chummeries is a new experience of the times. You have caught their frustrations, their aspirations and their loneliness quite well in your play. This situation is going to increase with more industrialization and expansion of cities like Colombo. This is a futuristic play. Do stage it 20 years hence...." Mr. de Silva spoke with enthusiasm and then he added.

"But do it with a better cast. These medical chaps are not bad. But they cannot handle the songs properly. They may be good with their stethoscopes and scalpels, but they are not equal to this kind of thing!" he added laughing.

I did not wait for 20 years, but staged Janelaya in a new production, the very next year - 1962 - with a new organization called the Lanka Mahajana Kala Mandalaya, with a totally new cast. I had befriended this Kala Mandalaya through my good friend, Piyasena Gunatilleke, about whom I have written earlier. The President of the Kala Mandalaya was Senator Chandra Gunasekera and one of its patrons was another Senator, Reggie Perera.

It was supposed to be a sort of Cultural Wing of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party. I was no member of any political party, but my leanings were definitely leftist. So, I agreed to do my new play, Janelaya with this organization in spite of 'warnings' by some of my friends. "Their politics don't matter to me as long as they don't interfere with my play or my work on the stage..." I told my advisors.

I had to find new men and women for the new production. Piyasena Gunatilleke was a very efficient organizer, as many of the LSSPers would know. We conducted several auditions and selected a new cast.

Before I come to that I would like to pay my respects to those among the original 'medico' cast who are no more. they are Dr. Keerthi Rajapakse, Dr. Indrani Wijeratne and Dr. Edward Senanayake, who passed away recently in the USA.

I would also like to thank - thank most gratefully, Mrs. Keerthi Rajapakse for attending Manel's funeral last year and also for sending me some very consoling letters giving me advice how to bear the loss quoting some of her own experiences as a widow. Keerthi died very young, almost at the beginning of his career as a Medical Doctor.

Thought of the week

It is very distressing indeed to come back to a subject like garbage, after remembering the beloved dead. I do so, only because the problem has become so grave - almost deadly. It was heartening to read in the newspapers that the Western Provincial Council has plans of coming into the fray and tackling the problem on a larger scale than the Councils and Pradeshiya Sabhas could manage.

The Dehiwala-Mt.Lavinia Council recently went round their streets and lanes announcing that they have no more places to dump garbage and that they would no longer collect garbage. It was also announced that householders should dig a pit in their own gardens and make arrangements to dispose their own garbage. Well and good if one has enough garden to dig into.

How about the thousands who live in flats or a house built in three, four, five or even six perches? The municipal authorities, whoever they are, seem to be joking - and that too just after a Presidential election!

I will not speak of incinerators any more. Perhaps they have gone out of fashion, or may be they are more dangerous than dumps, or it may even be that we simply cannot afford them!

Comments: henryj@dialog sl.net

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