Encounters with Liyanage Amarakeerthi ~ Malinda Words

‘Kaelaelikaarayo,’ translatable as ‘The Scarred’ is an excellent title for a book; a novel, in this instance, written by Liyanage Amarakeerthi. I didn’t know about it until yesterday (Monday). Amarakeerthi is a prolific writer and I am not a voracious reader; it’s hard to keep up with his work. I learned about it thanks to a Facebook post by Janaka Inimankada, the publisher who runs Vidarshana Books.

Strange. Coincidental. I had for a long time wanted to write about my friend Amarakeerthi but last morning I decided that I would finally get down to it. And then I saw this post. So no, I haven’t read the book and therefore this is not a review. It’s about a teacher, poet, novelist, short story writer and a literary critic who is also a farmer and activist. And my friend from more than 25 years ago.

First encounter: he wrote an anthem of sorts to be sung at the launch of the political party, ‘Janatha Mithuro’ in August 1993 (Nishad Handunpathirana composed the melody). He must have been in his second or third year at Colombo University.

Amarakeerthi came to see me a few years later when he was applying for postgraduate studies in the USA. He gifted me a copy of what I believe was his first collection of short stories. I forget the name but remember being delighted by the stories. He wrote something by way of dedication: ‘barasaara buddhimathek vee navatha paeminenna,’ or ‘return after becoming an erudite scholar.’ Maybe he wrote ‘maubimata (back to the motherland)’ but I can’t remember. I felt then that this was something he aspired to do. I returned, so did her. He became an erudite scholar, I did not.

It was to him that I sent the first two chapters of my translation of Simon Navagaththegama’s ‘Sansaaraaranyaye Dadayakkaraya.’ It was he who encouraged me to complete that exercise. He was, then, my guide and teacher. And even today, whenever I have some issue with a word or phrase I call Amarakeerthi to obtain clarification and clarity.

A few years ago, I was invited as a chief guest for an even organised by the Library Readers Association of Royal College. As I walked through the gates, I saw Amarakeerthi walking in the same direction. He too had been invited.

I spoke of my ‘library recollections,’ in particular how my mother, a teacher at the school, would take myself and my siblings along with her to school during vacations when she had to attend extra curricular activities such as the school’s Dramatic Society (DramSoc). She left us in the library. We sat and read for hours.

Amarakeerthi offered that he had to travel a fair distance to the nearest library where he devoured all the reading material available. I was privileged, he was not. He held no rancour, and he did not belittle me either. I knew the long history of his trials and tribulations. I admired him. He inspired me. And probably many, many others as well.

I don’t know all the professors and lecturers in all the Arts Faculties in the country. I know some and know of others. I can say though that few can match Amarakeerthi’s productivity, quality of scholarship and commitment to expand the horizons of his students, in and out of class. He may not claim he’s the best writer of his generation, but he’s certainly among the most accomplished and possibly the most prolific too. Across genres. He has been frequently shortlisted for the top literary awards in the country and has won several of them including the prestigious Swarnapusthaka Award. His poetry and short stories are excellent. And he’s still evolving as a writer.

Amarakeerthi is also one of the foremost literary critics in the country. His relatively short comments at book launches are delightful and edifying. Something I truly appreciate and admire is the fact that he reads almost all books of poetry published every year. He reads and he comments. He is a teacher, through and through; he will encourage but will not sugarcoat his criticism.

He’s an educationist out of the classroom as well. He teaches when he posts on social media. He teaches when he proudly posts photographs of his outside-academe endeavours, be it in the cultivation of vegetables, opting to walk or cycle to the university or encounters in a bookstore. He does pick and choose, he does privilege that which supports his convictions. Not a crime.

I don’t agree with his political choices, but unlike many he is open and non-apologetic about these things. It’s the same with ideology. I have issues, others may too, but few would disagree that he articulates his preferences in both word and deed. And regardless of the ‘needs of the political moment,’ he will not compromise one bit the duties associated with his position. He teaches.

When I saw Inimankada’s post, I called Amarakeerthi. The coincidence (of that post and my decision to write about him was compelling). He didn’t answer. Then I realised he was in Isreal because he has been posting stories/pictures from that country, once again sharing and educating. So I called Inimankada. He said it was a novel (I wasn’t sure if it was a novel or a sociological treatise, but maybe it is both). And he informed me that I was one of three individuals he had dedicated the book to.

Amarakeerthi replied to my text on WhatsApp and told me, by the way, about the dedication. He said 'I always wanted to dedicate a book to you, but waited until I became a senior writer so that the dedication has some value.’

My response: ‘It would have been a great honour even if it was your first book. You can’t imagine how honoured I feel.’

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

14 June 2023

Encounters with Liyanage Amarakeerthi

0 comments: