Gossip with Anne and Susanne



GOSSIPING: The writer with Anne and Susanne

THEATRE: "Ah Henry, let's have the birthday party, why not?" said the irrepressible Elaine after her kiss to me full of bacon, butter and lipstick. "Of course, why not ?" said the two sisters, almost in unison.

"Would two bottles of wine do?" I said smiling my birthday best. "A little gin would do no harm." Said Anne, the elder sister. "Okay, gin and wine it will be. Any food ?" I rejoined. "Oh, no, food is on the house !" That was Susanne, the younger sister, who was petting her favourite cat.

So that was settled. I went into my room, took out my hanky and wiped the bacon, butter and lipstick out of my lips and cheeks and settled down to check on the state of my bank balance. There was a little over 45 pounds, ten of which had to go as lodging fees. I had 35 pounds left. Ten would be sufficient for a couple of bottles of wine and a small bottle of gin.

Twenty five pounds would suffice till I got back to London and drew my last weekly allowance. I came out, happy and ready for the day's program. The 'girls' were almost on their way to the lecture hall. "Wait, wait for the birthday boy.!" I shouted and joined them in a quick trot.

The birthday party was not bad either. Anne and Susanne had prepared a special dinner of some typical 'Stratford' dishes. The girls partook of a little wine. The two sisters and I did justice to the gin, mixed with lemon. We chatted late into the night.

Anne and Susanne, the two sisters from Stratford were 'authorities' on Shakespeare in a way. That means they knew not only all about Shakespeare as a boy and young man in this backwoods village, but also about all the goings on in the present day Shakespeare country for the past 40 years or so.

They had housed many paying guests in their home over the years and some of them had become celebrities on the stage and screen in later years. They knew all the gossip and tit bits about the private lives of almost all the 'Shakespeare personalities' so to say.

They knew who had begun their romances in Shakespeare country, which romances survived and which ones failed. Anne, the elder sister, was almost a repository of such information.

They had seen practically all the Shakespeare fare in Stratford from their very childhood and Anne could deliver very knowledgeable information about the actors, actresses, directors and other such celebrities that had graced Stratford-upon-Avon with their presence over the years.

I was almost tempted to ask them how they had managed to remain spinsters in spite of so many visitors in their very home, but decorum and sanity prevailed - in spite of the gin!

Hay roofing

Our stay in Shakespeare country was coming to an end. The last two days were spent visiting the many Shakespeare sites such as his home, Anne Hathaway's home, and lastly, the Bard's grave. Most homes here were still thatched with a kind of hay roofing - except that the thickness of the thatching was much more than in our homes in our villages.

The overall look was also much neater. The Shakespeare home consists of a small upper storey and the living area downstairs. The first thing that meets your eye as you climb the rather narrow flight of steps, is the cradle that had held baby William Shakespeare.

The upper area has a couple of poster beds and other wooden furniture. The floor is also set with thick wooden planks. The whole structure reminded me of an old Walawwa of our own past. Anne Hathaway's home is not too far away from the Bard's home, but I cannot remember many details of it.

What surprised us most was the site of Shakespeare's grave. We expected it to be a well guarded very elaborate structure. It was, in fact a very simple stone pillar under a canopy of trees that marked the place the great Bard had been laid to rest.

The place evoked no wonder or fear in the onlooker's mind. Instead it made one at peace with nature and this great man of the earth. The brief, humorous verse cut into the pillar itself is a master stroke either composed by the Bard himself or someone else who knew him well:

Good Friend for Jesus For Beare

To Digg the Dust Encloased Heare

Bleste Be Y Man Y Spares The Stones,

And Curst Be He Y Moves My Bones

What one expects in a hallowed place like this would be some epitaph of great weight and wonderment. It appears that the great Bard was laughing at death itself and that he wanted to identify himself not as nobleman but as a commoner of his times.

Deep reverence

Looking at his tomb I felt a deep reverence in my heart for this man of the earth. I marvelled, as many millions on this earth do, about this unique man.

How did a simple boy from these backwoods, without even the benefit of a 'proper' education, become the most venerated, the most versatile, the most prolific man of letters that our world has ever known ? From where did he find the enthralling language, metaphor and rhyme of his poems and his plays ? How did this simple man's head cull such endearing and enduring figures of speech ? Such mastery of language ? Surely, it is one of the miracles of the world - perhaps the only one - this unfathomable man called William Shakespeare.

And so, my sojourn in this hallowed land was coming to an end. I believe all of us, meaning our little group of four women and one man who had come 'in search' of one of the greatest men this earth has produced, were feeling a kind of 'content-sadness' at this parting which I could express well enough only in my own language - with the phrase 'Pahan - Sanvega'.

I would be getting back to London, tomorrow. And then, back home - my God, Home ! I forgot to add here that my friend, Ranee Weerasingham from our High Commission in London, also joined us in Stratford half way through our stay and also shared the upper dormitory with the girls. She became very friendly with the girls and once, even dressed them in saree for one of our functions - perhaps the farewell function.

Fortunately I have a picture of the event with Maria, Ranee, Agnes and Gugumus in Indian attire. I am not sure where Elaine was when we took the picture. Perhaps she held the camera!

We were seated in the coach that was taking us back to our lodging. I was imagining my flight that would take me back home. Avon is a beautiful place, especially in the summer.

But to me my own little land was even more beautiful. In a day or two I will be seeing from above, the beloved coconut palms swaying in the wind. I will be seeing the lush green woodlands. I will be seeing the bubbling shores of my country, as we dive to land.

As a mist covered my sight at the thought of home, I felt a soft pressure on my hand. It was my friend Agnes Khol. She is seated next to me. I see her through the mist in my eyes.

"I am going home too, tomorrow", says she. "Isn't it a wonderful thing ?" I see that she is blowing her nose into a tiny little hanky frilled with delicate lace. "We too make such beautiful lace in our country." I tell her. If ever I come to Germany I will bring a whole roll of it for you."

Agnes stops blowing her nose, smiles enchantingly, puts her hand across my shoulder and leans softly on me. "I am trying out a bit of home comfort." She says mischievously and hastens to add.

"But only up to the lodgings. Don't you get any foolish ideas.!" "It's a long time since I have shed my foolishness." I tell her feeling the comfort of the fullness of her shoulder...

The very next day we bid goodbye to the two sisters and headed our ways. I came back to London, to my room at Fitzroy square [which the Harrows thankfully kept for me] and made preparations to get back home.

I visited the British Council and the British Drama League to say goodbye, collected my last allowance, made a few purchases and packed my bags. During the nine months I had collected all kinds of little souvenirs, curios and little gifts, items for home and presents for my friends etc. So there was no last minute 'rush'.

I bought a few cute miniatures of a London double-decker, a couple of vintage cars which are collectors' items that most visitors to London purchase. There are really cute little things which were sold at one pound each at that time. I still have one or two such items in my collection. Some, I am afraid, have been lost or pilfered.

My head was so full of getting back home, I hardly remember even getting into the Heathrow Airport. Somehow, I remember a small incident at customs clearance. I had not verified my passport [No.55555] and had not noticed that my visa for U.K. had expired by just a few days - I had been allowed a visa for three months.

My visit to Stratford had stretched my stay for a couple of days beyond that. The customs man - a nasty old bald head - pointed out that I had 'overstayed' my visa and that I had committed a punishable offence.

I was flabbergasted. I told him that I was leaving London right now and that, as far as I was aware, had committed no offence. When he started becoming even more nasty I cooled down - I did not want any problem like not being able to catch that flight - and told him as sweetly as possible that I may have committed a mistake unwittingly, that I had come here on a British Council program for overseas students etc. etc.

The word 'British Council' spelled magic. He cooled down visibly. If I was good enough for the British Council, surely, I was good enough for him. He promptly stamped my passport allowing exit and let me go after politely reprimanding me that I should be more careful with 'procedure'.

I promised I would and proceeded towards the sweet airplane that was going to bring me back home!

Thought of the week

I wish to record my humble congratulations to all the athletes taking part in the SAF Games being held here right now. I congratulate them once again for not getting goose pimples over the domestic situation here, and running away like some of the cricketers did - which in any case was a thorough wash out ! And thanks to the all knowing Cricket Council for arranging matches in Colombo during this month of rain!

That is beside the point. When I see the hard work, dedication and the sheer grit of the SAF participants - win or lose - my heart weeps with joy. That young world is marvellous and that is how it should be.

I am certain that many more youngsters and children watching these events will make up their minds to follow the example of those wonderful young men and women who bring so much joy to their respective countries.

I was also dismayed to read a report in the news papers that a potential Gold Winner had been so brutally maimed by SIX other young men for reasons not known to us so far.

In fact there cannot be any reason for such cowardly conduct that can be condoned under any circumstances. This only throws up a particularly nasty and vicious trend in our country - that of utter cruelty and vengeance which should not be allowed to escalate.

[email protected]

..................................

<< Artscope Main Page

EMAIL |   PRINTABLE VIEW | FEEDBACK

Gamin Gamata - Presidential Community & Welfare Service
www.jayanthadhanapala.com
www.srilankans.com
www.srilankaapartments.com
www.army.lk
www.news.lk
www.defence.lk
www.helpheroes.lk/
www.peaceinsrilanka.org

 

Produced by Lake House Copyright © 2006 The Associated Newspapers of Ceylon Ltd.

Comments and suggestions to : Web Editor