Random MuseParakrama
Kodituwakku: Heart of the rose
Sachitra Mahendra
Only a poet has the guts to burrow the heartbeat of the masses.
Literary circles always have cross words when it comes to a specific
definition of poetry; some say you should be well-versed in classical
poetry to try out writing poetry, whereas others are with Wordsworth’s
‘spontaneous overflow of feelings’ theory. I see a lively creature
wedged between these two turfs dangle inside Parakrama Kodituwakku.
Kodituwakku, for that matter, is on a hard course to sketch out creative
poetry.
His latest work called Rosa Male Hadawatha (Heart of the Rose), a
short story collection, is the 13th in his publication list. This
collection contains the stories Parakrama has been writing since 1965.
Parakrama’s first book Podi Malliye was released in 1973 and ever since
he has been dedicated to his cause - poetry.
Although I have precisely read Parakrama’s all 13 books, my memory is
better on the books that follow Rashmi (1992): Deviyange Minisun,
Divaman Gajaman, Lovi Kahata, Aloka Minisa, Jothi Rashmi Rathri,
Sansareta Man Asai along with the latest work.
These works resemble a flight of stairs in the descending order; the
works published after Rashmi do not exhibit Parakrama’s same creative
brilliance. Divaman Gajaman and Jothi Rashmi Rathri are poetic
interpretations of the poetess Gajaman Nona and the singer H R Jothipala.
Parakrama’s poetic imagination of Jothi’s life does not have the pulse
he had when he composed Gajaman Nona’s biography.
Parakrama’s language command remains unsurpassed, which is out of the
question. However he gradually looses the handhold of that creative
spark he had in Rashmi. He was the unshaken saint on the mount seeing
people’s grief with indifference. You cannot simply miss a single poem
in Rashmi; they are the poetry you could caress gently for its living
inspiration, rich with both experience and language. He doesn’t just do
a wordplay with Buddhist sources. Sometimes he narrates the same story
with his inimitable way of expression. This power of expression seems to
have slipped out gradually over the time.
I could well see this when I read Rosa Male Hadawatha with two
categories of his writing: pre and post 2000. The pre ‘00 writing (from
1965 to 2007) have the usual language saintliness whereas in 2007 and
2008 it becomes somewhat synthetic here and there, with one exception of
Maname saha Maname.
All the stories written before 2007 have his poetic touch. They
narrate the stories we hear almost everyday, but his poetic surge in the
sentence rhythm makes us experience what we felt in Rashmi.
However Parakrama still has the remains of losing creativity in what
he writes on the back cover of the book. The title itself suggests the
best example, and this is how he finishes his word on the back cover:
“Get closer to them (short stories) in a meditative mood. What you
see is… heart of the rose.”
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