['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 the 207th article in the
new series that began in December 2022. Links to previous articles are given
below]
The
popular romcom ‘When Harry met Sally’ ends a classic recognition and
declaration of love with the traditional song heralding the new year
being played in the background. Harry, played by Billy Crystal, and
Sally, played by Meg Ryan briefly discuss the meaning of the song, ‘Auld
Lang Syne’. Sally concludes, ‘anyway, it’s about old friends.’ And they
kiss.
I watched an episode of the television series ‘The Crown’
with my old friend Dhammika Amarakoon a short while ago where Lord
Mountbatten, having been sacked as Chief of the Defence Staff by the
Harold Wilson administration, leaves his office, his entire staff
singing ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ a traditional Scottish song transcribed or
edited by the poet Robert Burns and which speaks of ‘times long ago.’
Dhammika
paused the video and related an incident that had taken place at the
Great Circle, a residential treatment facility for children and teens
struggling with mental health issues where he used to work. Apparently
it was a tradition to sing this song whenever a child leaves having
completed treatment.
On one such occasion, while everyone sang
‘Auld Lang Syne,’ one teenager had heartily sung along, but to lyrics of
his own. He had just kept repeating the line, ‘we’re here because we’re
here.’
For those unfamiliar with the most popular version of the song, this is how it goes:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
So the young boy sang this way:
We’re here because we're here
because we’re here because we’re here
We’re here because we're here
because we're here because we’re here.
It's
an easy song for transposition of alternative lyrics. When Australia
won the Cricket World Cup in 1999 defeating Pakistan in the final and
Shane Warne was declared Man of the Match for his 4 for 33 off 9 overs,
Australian supporters sang the same song. They didn’t say ‘we’re here
because we’re here.’ They didn’t sing Auld Lang Syne. They simply
replaced all lyrics with ‘Shane Warne:’ Shane Warne Shane Warne Shane
Warne Shane Warne etc etc.
The young boy was philosophical.
Utterly. A fairly common perception among residents, despite a well
thought out and probably tried and tested system of screening, is that
they should not be there. Being there ‘because they happen to be there,’
is essentially a contention that there’s no rhyme or reason for them to
be there in the first place.
We often see this. There are
successful people who attribute their achievements to their own
initiative, hard work and determination. They may mention a few
individuals who helped them along, but by and large go along with ‘I did
it my way,’ and ‘I am self-made.’ When things don’t work out, it’s
someone else’s fault. Circumstances. Envy on the part of some detractor.
Whatever. Not ‘I.’
Didn’t plan to get there. Don’t know how
they ended up where they are. They are there because, well, they are
there. That’s it.
On the other hand, who among us lives in a
land we wanted to be citizens of or are totally and absolutely happy
with how things are? We can never be absolute masters of our fate, we
are never the captains of our souls, to borrow from ‘Invictus’ by
William Ernest Henley.
‘Men (sic) make their history but not in
the circumstances of their choice,’ said Karl Marx. Pierre Bourdieu
offered a more poetic though convoluted observation about structure and
agency when he spoke of structuring structures and structured
structures.
The young man privileged, one might argue, an
overarching structure. Understandable considering that he had little or
no agency in that facility where he was being treated for behaviour
considered aberrant, essentially. He was absolutely correct in this
sense: he was there because he was there, as far as he could tell. The
fellow resident was leaving, but he remained and would continue to
remain because, well, he was there because he was there, unlike
Mountbatten in whose case we all know much of the how and why or in the
case of Harry and Sally thanks to a clever screenplay.
Who among
us have not felt similar alienation, similar helplessness, a similar
sense of being where we are because that’s where we are and we are
unable to fathom how we got there and why?
We’re here because
we’re here because we’re here because we’re here! Things don’t play out
as they can be made to in a screenplay with Auld Lang Syne playing in
the background and a happily-ever-after to look forward to. We might as
well write our own lyrics and transcribe our version of the conditions
of our existence to a happy tune, like that of Auld Lang Syne.
malindadocs@gmail.com
Sha'Carri Richardson versus and with Sha'Carri Richardson
A stroll with Pragg and Arjun along a boulevard in Baku
Daya Sahabandu ran out of partners but must have smiled to the end
Sapan and voices that erase borders
Problem elephants and problem humans
The 'inhuman' elephant in a human zoo
Ivan Art: Ivanthi Fernando's efforts to align meaning
Let's help Jagana Krishnakumar rebuild our ancestral home
Do you have a friend in Pennsylvania (or anywhere?)
A gateway to illumination in West Virginia
Through strange fissures into magical orchards
There's sea glass love few will see
Re-residencing Lakdasa Wikkramasinha
Poisoning poets and shredding books of verse
The responsible will not be broken
Ownership and tenuriality of the Wissahickon
Did you notice the 'tiny, tiny wayside flowers'?
Gifts, gifting and their rubbishing
Journalism inadvertently learned
Reflections on the young poetic heart
Wordaholic, trynasty and other portmanteaus
The 'Loku Aiya' of all 'Paththara Mallis'
Subverting the indecency of the mind
Character theft and the perennial question 'who am I?'
Saji Coomaraswamy and rewards that matter
Seeing, unseeing and seeing again
Alex Carey and the (small) matter of legacy
The insomnial dreams of Kapila Kumara Kalinga
The clothes we wear and the clothes that wear us (down)
Every mountain, every rock, is sacred
Manufacturing passivity and obedience
Sanjeew Lonliyes: rawness unplugged, unlimited
In praise of courage, determination and insanity
The relative values of life and death
Poetry and poets will not be buried
Reunion Peradeniya (1980-1990)
Sorrowing and delighting the world
Encounters with Liyanage Amarakeerthi
Letters that cut and heal the heart
A forgotten dawn song from Embilipitiya
The soft rain of neighbourliness
Reflections on waves and markings
Respond to insults in line with the Akkosa Sutra
The right time, the right person
The silent equivalent of a thousand words
Crazy cousins are besties for life
The lost lyrics of Premakeerthi de Alwis
Consolation prizes in competitions no one ever wins
Blackness, whiteness and black-whiteness
Inscriptions: stubborn and erasable
Deveni: a priceless one-word koan
Recovering run-on lines and lost punctuation
'Wetness' is not the preserve of the Dry Zone
On sweeping close to one's feet
Kumkum Fernando installs Sri Lanka in Coachella, California
To be an island like the Roberts...
Debts that can never be repaid in full
An island which no flood can overwhelm
A melody faint and yet not beyond hearing
Heart dances that cannot be choreographed
Remembering to forget and forgetting to remember
Authors are assassinated, readers are immortal
It is good to be conscious of nudities
Saturday slides in after Monday and Sunday somersaults into Friday
There's a one in a million and a one in ten
Kumkum Fernando installs Sri Lanka in Coachella, California
Hemantha Gunawardena's signature
Architectures of the demolished
The exotic lunacy of parting gifts
Who the heck do you think I am?
Those fascinating 'Chitra Katha'
So how are things in Sri Lanka?
The sweetest three-letter poem
Teams, team-thinking, team-spirit and leadership
The songs we could sing in lifeboats when we are shipwrecked
Jekhan Aruliah set a ball rolling in Jaffna
Awaiting arrivals unlike any other
Teachers and students sometimes reverse roles
Colombo, Colombo, Colombo and so forth
The slowest road to Kumarigama, Ampara
Some play music, others listen
Mind and hearts, loquacious and taciturn
I am at Jaga Food, where are you?
On separating the missing from the disappeared
And intangible republics will save the day (as they always have)
The circuitous logic of Tony Muller
Rohana Kalyanaratne, an unforgettable 'Loku Aiya'
Mowgli, the Greatest Archaeologist
Figures and disfigurement, rocks and roses
Sujith Rathnayake and incarcerations imposed and embraced
Some stories are written on the covers themselves
A poetic enclave in the Republic of Literature
Landcapes of gone-time and going-time
The best insurance against the loud and repeated lie
So what if the best flutes will not go to the best flautists?
There's dust and words awaiting us at crossroads and crosswords
A song of terraced paddy fields
Of ants, bridges and possibilities
From A through Aardvark to Zyzzyva
Words, their potency, appropriation and abuse
Who did not listen, who's not listening still?
If you remember Kobe, visit GOAT Mountain
The world is made for re-colouring
No 27, Dickman's Road, Colombo 5
Visual cartographers and cartography
Ithaca from a long ago and right now
Lessons written in invisible ink
The amazing quality of 'equal-kindness'
The interchangeability of light and darkness
Sisterhood: moments, just moments
Chess is my life and perhaps your too
Reflections on ownership and belonging
The integrity of Nadeesha Rajapaksha
Signatures in the seasons of love
To Maceo Martinet as he flies over rainbows
Fragrances that will not be bottled
Colours and textures of living heritage
Countries of the past, present and future
Books launched and not-yet-launched
The sunrise as viewed from sacred mountains
Isaiah 58: 12-16 and the true meaning of grace
The age of Frederick Algernon Trotteville
Live and tell the tale as you will
Between struggle and cooperation
Neruda, Sekara and literary dimensions
Paul Christopher's heart of many chambers
Calmness gracefully cascades in the Dumbara Hills
Serendipitous amber rules the world
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