The Minister reads the play
 THEATRE:
Now we are seated in the Parliamentary canteen. Not a very posh place
but pleasant, homely and quaint just like the Parliamentary complex
upstairs. I prefer that old Parliamentary complex any day to the present
august but unwieldy thing. Not many customers in the canteen.
I can see M.D. Banda, Prins Gunasekera and U.B. Wanninayake having
tea in a corner. I have only a cup of tea. The Minister and my friend
Chula, tuck into the short eats too.
I wait for a good moment and pull out the script of the play which is
with me. I read parts of it to the Minister. He listens while sipping
his cup of tea. Then he takes the script from me and starts reading
randomly.
He reads bits and pieces starting from the end. He smiles or laughs
at certain points. Chula and I join in the laughter. “This play has been
written very well...”, says he.
Now he has turned to scene 3 and begins reading it from the
beginning. He pulls out a fountain pen with green ink from his shirt
pocket and deletes a word or two here and there. Underlines certain
lines. Smiles. Looks at me. We are silent. We watch the Minister.
It is past 5.30 now. All have left the canteen except the three of
us. The waiters have changed into their normal clothes. It is obvious
they also want to leave. I have my Lighting Rehearsal at 5.30 at Lumbini
Theatre.
I make no mention of it. Now the Minister has turned to the beginning
of the play and is reading it from the beginning. “This has been very
well written!”, says he, once again. I would have beamed if I could.
I make myself bold enough to put in a word or two. “Sir, this play is
NOT against any individual. It covers a period of twenty years. And how
many governments during that time! I criticize university teachers as
well as students.”
The Minister has puckered his brow. He is concentrating on the text.
I can see his face well. This is a good man I think. He is not a
charlatan. Not a liar. But he listens to his hangers on, his sycophants.
And then HE gets the blame. Then he too gets angry and starts blaming
everybody. But this man is a good, honest man. He finds the time to read
my play. How much work must he be having?
Subtle propaganda
At the same time I realize that this is a bit of a STRONG play. One
cannot be surprised if he decides against it after all he is a Minister
of the Government. Some idiot of a fellow had told the Minister that
this is subtle propaganda against the Govt. Must be a hanger on member
of the Censor Board.
Any way that statement is not entirely untrue. I have not
intentionally included subtle or unsubtle propaganda in the play. But if
one wants, if one LOOKS for them, I suppose one can find many such
instances.
If the Minister DOES allow this play, how can I show my gratitude to
him? I cannot do so as long as he remains a Minister. Paying obeisance
to Ministers is usual. It is the done thing.
I do not wish to join that category I will show him my gratitude
whenever he leaves this battlefield of politics! Yes, THAT is what I
will do. Whatever whoever might say, THAT is what I will do. That is
what I feel now. Who, knows, with time even those good intentions could
fade away.
Mr. Iriyagolla smiles again, reaches for his green pen and deletes a
word. I strain to look at the word. It is the word “magodiyo” [loosely,
‘rascals’]. “Why, Sir, why that word?” I dare to ask. “Hmmma”! He reads
on. “That word is not obscene?” I dare to say once again.
“No, no, it is not obscene. But what for? I use that word often. It
just escapes me. It is... it is rather like calling your own son, a
rascal I don’t mean it. But it comes out of me. Surely, cutting that
word will not make a difference to the play?”, he asks. He is smiling.
He is smiling mischievously. I like that. “Oh, no Sir. It will not
make ANY difference!” I assure him. A pause, and he reads on. “Sir, I
have also heard you using that word. Coming from you it would be a word
of endearment”. I tell him as quietly as I can.
We laugh. All three of us. The atmosphere is now very much more
relaxed. It is not tense like earlier. All have left the canteen. There
is just one waiter already in his civvies jiggling the bunch of keys.
Obviously he is waiting for us to get up and go.
The time is almost 6.30. Good God, my Lighting Rehearsal! The
Minister gets up after having read the WHOLE play! He gives me the
script he has marked. “Okay, Let’s take a decision after Gamani sees the
play tomorrow. Please show him this script. Tell him that I have read it
and marked it here and there. And that I have no particular objection to
the script.”
Objections
We come down the steps. The Minister takes leave of us at the foot of
the stairs. He is muttering something about the objections of the Censor
Board. Here is a fine opportunity for me.
“Sir, there are some people in the board, who are well aware of
Theatre. They have a concern about Sinhala Theatre. But there are some
who have never SEEN a play in their lives. Sir, it will not be very wise
to listen to such persons”. “I will be very sorry, if I have to ban this
play. Right. Let’s take a decision after tomorrow!”
Chula and I come out of the Parliamentary premises and we hail a taxi
to get to Havelock Town. Everybody has gathered there. They all surround
us like a swarm of bees as soon as we alight from the taxi. A question
mark in every face. There is fear and doubt in some of the faces.
There is also hope! I am happy to see them my children. My weariness
vanishes as I see them. I feel rejuvenated when I see their anxious
faces. These are good chaps. A fine set of men and women. They take the
weight off my shoulders!
17th August: The Junior Minister Mr. Gamani Jayasuriya comes for the
preview tonight at 8 p.m. We are all there at the Lumbini Theatre by 6
p.m. There is a fair crowd inside. Some have come with my permission. My
friends. Others are from here and there. Perhaps they want to see the
play before it is banned. I also think it will be a good thing to have a
small audience.
It is much better to see a play without prejudice - with some kind of
audience reaction. I have certainly NOT planted them. The Junior
Minister arrives exactly on time. He sees the audience and calls me
outside. “Jayasena, I have come here with a very open mind. But I am
disappointed to see you have provided me with an audience”, The Junior
Minister protests.
“I ma very sorry, Sir. I did NOT mean to influence you. This is a
perfectly neutral audience. I thought it might be better for you to see
it WITH a little audience reaction. I hasten to reply. “No, no, I have
come with a VERY OPEN mind!” Mr. Gamani Jayasuriya insists. “Very well,
Sir. I will disperse the audience in a minute.” I assure him.
I get on stage and make an announcement. “Dear friends, please
forgive me for inviting you to see this play today. I should not have
done that. This is a SPECIAL SHOW, only for the Junior Minister. He
prefers to see it alone and make up his mind. I apologize to you once
again. Please leave the hall quietly and immediately.”
The sounds of chairs being pushed back and the exodus. Quietly.
Without any fuss. Like a flock of sheep. No protests. No cat calls. I am
grateful for that.
Old pros such as Winston Serasinghe and Earnest McIntyre quietly get
into the stage after leaving the hall. I don’t mind that. Sera, after
all is Irangani Serasinghe’s husband and he has a right to see the play.
McIntyre is an old pro. I would not be able to chase him even if I try
to.
Gravity
My Loku Aiya is angry and wants to make a fuss. I plead with him and
quieten him down. I give him a nice seat in the wings and ask him to
WATCH the play and not to make any FUSS. He realizes the gravity of the
situation and quietens down. We start the performance around 8.30.
My good friend, Edwin Hewakapuge wants to record the play on tape -
live. I ask the Junior Minister for that permission and get it. So Edwin
is seated at the foot of the stage in one corner with his taping
gadgetry and a boy to assist him. Apart from him there are only four or
five persons in the entire hall.
There is Mr Gamani Jayasuriya, the Junior Minister, The Secretary to
the Censor Board, Mr. Weerasinghe, R.D.K. Jayawardhana also from the
Censor Board [I have a feeling that he is the man who spoke about subtle
propaganda to the Minister I may be wrong] and myself.
I sit alone, apart from the others, in one corner of the hall and I
am determined to WATCH the play and not think of OTHER things. The bell
is rung and the play starts. It proceeds just like a public performance.
The cast is in make up. The few stage sets are there and Mahinda Dias
himself directs the lighting. I have a feeling that the play is going
well.
I am mesmerized by the acting of Iranganie Serasinghe as the metal
crushing mother and Douglas Ranasinghe is just right as the sensitive,
wavering son. Warakagoda and Nimal Jayasinghe are superb as Narrator and
his Assistant.
Old pros such as Santin Gunawardhana, Ananada Liyanage, Chula
Kariyawasam, Mervyn Jayatunga and a host of others handle the chorus as
metal breakers, university students who are tear-gassed and crowds at
the funeral, etc.They also handle the peripheral roles admirably.
Cyril Dharmawardhana makes a heroic funeral speech as Bandara Maama
just before the final scene by Irangani. She does it so well that tears
have welled up in my eyes and I have forgotten all about the “special
preview”.!
Thought of the week
How often do we read of our men and women in distress either in their
countries of employment mostly in the Middle East, or else on their way
to such destinations. They are charged enormous fees by unscrupulous job
agents here and packed into non-sea-worthy boats and sent away. Some of
them perish on the way. Some others get stranded wherever they land. Yet
others are apprehended by the Police and either sent back, or worse, put
in jail.
We hear of extreme cruelty especially to our women employees in the
Gulf States as well as in other countries such as Malaysia and
Singapore. My question is why is this allowed to happen? The simplest
solution would be to provide adequate employment to ALL such persons who
leave home and hearth to earn a living, to build a house in short for a
better future, of course there ARE the incurable ‘fortune seekers’.
Apart from that, no sane person would risk his or her life, leave
home and hearth and undergo all kinds of misery and humiliation in order
to earn a pittance, if they would be given adequate employment here.
If our men and women HAVE to be sent abroad for employment for
practical reasons, then it is ONLY the Government and its agencies that
should tackle that job after suitable, favourable and honourable
negotiations and agreements with the host countries.
Unscrupulous and deceitful private Job Agencies should be banned from
the face of this country! Government managed Foreign job Arms should be
set up at District level under District Secretaries, with overall
supervision from the centre.
[email protected] |
