People who brighten my day… :

Never a dull moment with Pancha

Pancha was my next door neighbour of a by gone era. He was a person we enjoyed keeping company with as he always brightened our day. His cheerful smile, happy disposition, and his endless gift of tall stories brightened our day. There was never a dull moment when he was around.

Living in a row of wall to wall houses in front of our house at Vipulasena Mawatha, my family and he struck up an unlikely friendship spawned by our mutual interest in the theatre.

I first met him on a visit to his home to get some garments stitched by his two sisters, both expert tailors. I observed the flimsy curtain separating the tiny sewing room from their kitchen, parting and a 20 something well built and overly plump lad discreetly poking his head out. Seeing me, he darted forward and greeted me with a friendly “Good morning, Madam Sir. Pleased to meet you.’ Seeing my startled expression at this unusual greeting, he quickly informed me that his combination of genders was just a form of respect. I remained ‘Madam Sir’ to him, till I left Vipulasena for good, thirty years on.

In turn, he asked me to call him Pancha - an abbreviation for his real name which was Panchalingam.

We bonded after he told me that his real calling, despite being a motor mechanic was in the field of theatre, a field in which I too was interested. “I used to play the lead role in most of my school plays because I could sing and act.

But after leaving school I’ve never found an opening to showcase my talents’, he said wistfully, after he learned that one of my sons was also interested in acting.

I promised him I would look out for any openings where he could act. He was determined to hold me to that promise.

Each morning he would appear at my doorstep before I left for work, sometimes bearing a plateful of hot thosai which his mother had just made, just in case I would have some good news for him.

When I realised he would never give up on his dream, I suggested the next best thing.

“Why not do your own play?”

When he asked where he could rehearse, I told him in a reckless mood of generosity, “ use the garage at the back of my house”... I did not regret that decision when I saw the look of pure happiness and the widest of smiles creasing his face. Letting out a whoop of joy and thanking me profusely, he galloped home to start writing his first play. He decided to name it “A Pancha Style Comedy.’

Plot

He would drop by daily to discuss how his plot was developing, impressing on me that the play would be hundred percent original and would deal only with local themes. “They will be on my real life experiences and will also touch on social and moral issues. They will deal with issues that need awareness raising since many of us live selfish lives with no thought about the welfare of our fellow beings”, he confided, revealing the stirrings of a social activist. He also informed me that his play would have many comical and farcical episodes. “People need something to laugh about considering the way the cost of living was soaring by leaps and bounds these days. This play will not only make them think, they will go home laughing”, he told me confidently.With the zeal of a crusader on a mission, Pancha launched his writing career with a frenzy. Using up dozens of ball point pens and exercise books, and burning the midnight oil, he completed his first draft in record time.

He refused to divulge details of the script, and merely hinted that neglected street dogs, lonely street people, driving maniacs, and uncollected garbage, were among his carefully chosen awareness raising topics.His next task was to hunt for actors for his play. When word spread like wildfire that Pancha was producing a play and calling for auditions, our lane began to overflow like the nearby Mariakade market.

Fanfare

All the street urchins in the neighbourhood lined up near Pancha’s house demanding they get even a bit role in it.

Remembering his own disappointment at not being able to showcase his dramatic talents, Pancha gave each of those who braved the elements standing outside his house for the auditions, a role in his play, even if it was as a stage assistant whose job was to fetch and carry sets, food and cigarettes for the actors.

The play opened with much fanfare on a Poya Day. The venue was my front lawn. It was lit up by a myriad stars, and dozens of coloured bulbs donated by friendly neighbours giving it a fairyland image.

The characters trained by Pancha who incidentally also designed the sets and costumes which were stitched by his two adoring sisters were remarkable for their originality.

Given a free hand to ad-lib when they forgot their words, and exit and enter the stage as and when they pleased, never mind the prompter, they outdid themselves.

As they rolled and somersaulted on stage, and performed other antics rarely seen on stage , the audience roared, whistled, cried and sobbed into their hankies.

After receiving several encores, Pancha who strutted across the make-shift stage like a proud peacock, finally decided to call it a day. As there was no curtain to draw, he rounded off his show with the national Anthem sung lustily by the audience.

To crown his success the audience had a hat collection to raise funds for him to stage another play. As they collectively agreed, Pancha had certainly brightened their day.

And mine too, I told him when he met me to announce he was already writing his second play.