Jaya Sri Ratna Sri! ~ Malinda Words

‘Sulang Kurullo (Windbirds)’ is possibly the most popular song by Harun Lanthra and Angeline Goonetileka. The melody has always appealed to me, but not being quite the connoisseur of music of any kind, I had never listened to the song with any degree of attention. A few years ago I did. And I told my wife it is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve heard.

‘The lyrics are exquisite,’ I said.

‘Really? I like the melody.’ That was her response.

Some people are attracted to the music, some to the words. This however is common to both types: you know the name of the singer, but not necessarily that of the lyricist or the compose. In this case Dharmasiri Gamage and Premasiri Khemadasa respectively.

And this is why I came to know of Ratna Sri Wijesinghe so much longer after I had heard the songs he had written. That, and the fact that I had barely been a student of literature. It was in the early nineties that I encountered his collection of poems titled ‘Vassane.’ And it was around the same time that I found a copy of ‘Sudu Neluma.’ Indeed it was the blurb on the back cover of the latter that gave me insights into the mind and heart of this exceptionally gifted poet/lyricist, according to some, the most accomplished in his generation.

On the back cover was a backstory of sorts about the song ‘Sudu Neluma.’ It was about a little girl who had drowned in the Sorabora Wewa. Apparently she would go there to pick sudu nelum which she would later sell to devotees who visited the Mahiyangana Chaityaya. I can’t remember who wrote that blurb but the following observation is etched in my heart:

‘Having suffered all manner of sorrows throughout their lives, her parents did not have tears to shed at her funeral, and yet when Pundit Amaradeva sang the song for the first time at the Elphinstone Theatre there wasn’t even one eye in that audience that was not washed in tears.’

So we know songs and singers. We know less about lyricists and even less about how they see the world.

A few days ago, I attended an event at the Sri Lanka Foundation, organised to celebrate the poet on the occasion of his 70th birthday, marked among other things by Kalpana Ambrose’s translations of some of Ratna Sri’s poems, ‘May the thorns bloom.’ Actually, I was detained by other matters and by the time I arrived, it was over. It was chit-chat time with friends over a cup fo plain tea. Consolation enough for me. Kalpana promised to gift me a copy, so I bought two other books, Ratna Sri’s first collection of poems, ‘Biya novan ayyandi (Fear not, older brother)’ and ‘Ath Pasura,' a collection of essays Ratna Sri had written for the Silumina in 2005/2006 and first published in 2008.

The title essay itself is a revelation. Ratna Sri takes a simple word or rather term and in a few pages sheds light on vast swathes of literary history. He takes us to Sarachchandra’s Maname, Mahagama Sekera’s Kundala Keshi, and long before them Wettewe Thero’s Guttila Kavya, Kalidasa’s Raghuwamas and the Panchatantra. ‘Ath Pasura,’ in short, made me regret that I had not studied literature.

This Ratna Sri, i.e., the student of literature, is often seen at the launch of poetry collections. Few in this country can review poetry the way he does. It is like watching a documentary on a literary tradition.

He dissects and puts together in ways that are tender and pleasing, even when he is critical of the work he’s assessing. Sunanda Karunaratne and Liyanage Amarakeerthi are two other poets/critics who share this ability.

What ‘Ath Pasura’ once again confirmed to me is the fact that Ratna Sri is one of the keenest living observers of the human condition. He could write Sudu Neluma because he has the eyes to see, the mind to reflect, the discipline to be patient and let the nuances of context speak to him and of course the mastery over the language. I didn’t read that column in the ‘Silumina,’ but the collection is eminently re-readable for he lends us his eyes and invites us to see and see again, now from this angle and now from that, not just on what he’s discussing but in general on all things around us over which our eyes carelessly pass.

Coincidentally, I came across an Ernest Hemingway quote that seems to describe what Ratna Sri has done and does.

‘When people talk, listen completely. Don’t be thinking what you’re going to say. Most people never listen. Nor do they observe. You should be able to go into a room and when you come out know everything that you saw there and not only that. If that room gave you any feeling you should know exactly what it was that gave you that feeling.’

He listens. He sees. He shares. That which birthed feelings in him he records truthfully and offers comments with the full weight of his long engagement with literature and the as lengthy consideration of life.

Sulang Kurullo has the following lines:

සිහින පොතේ පිටුවක් පෙරළී අද
මොනවද එහි ලියැවී ඇත්තේ
ආදරේ ආදරේ හ්ම් ආදරේ
ආදරේ ආදරේ ආදරේ

A page has turned in the book of dreams
what is it that has been written?
Love, love, love
Love, love, love.’

Ratna Sri offers us reality, the space for dreams and the inhibiting structures as well. All love. All love. Love, love, love and love.

Long life, sir!

['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]

04 June 2023

Jaya Sri Ratna Sri!

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