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Sunday, 5 January 2003 |
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Healing the scars of war by Farah Macan Markar
Want to know the worst part of war? It's not the deaths of those who die by the hundreds. Nor is it the sorry plight of the widows who live through it all. It is not the heartwrenching loneliness of the orphaned children living in refugee camps either. The worst part of the war is its black hole of despair. A pain unspeakable. A horror which haunts you, not just in dreams, but in every breath of your life. A living nightmare...dying dream. This is what war does to you. It chokes you with pain, rage and bitterness...and yet... A few days before Christmas Tamil and Sinhala youth got together in a drama workshop to work together as one and perhaps try to patch up the unseen scars of war. There was no hint of bitterness. No animosities. Just one set of human beings working with another, accepting their cultural differences and blending them together as one, in various trilingual skits, which they themselves had made up. These little but deep meaning skits, depict the plight of youth caught up in the war. It shows the prejudices, divisions and problems people themselves create and the effect it has on one another.
They show the meaninglessness of the unnecessary prejudices people build. The tragedies caused by it and the consequences of what happens because of it. The ravaging fields of war... its deadly hands which rip people apart, creating loneliness, pain and despair, suspicion and mistrust. While depicting the darker side of war, the actors on stage also brought a ray of light into the stories they brought to life. A child is born signifying hope-Peace. Questions are raised asking us, over and over again. Why? Why? Why? And finally both races come together helping each other. A follow up of a two day drama workshop conducted by Jerome De Silva,-better known for theatrical unforgettables such as "Cats", "Les Misserables", and "Lion King", when he visited Jaffna as a member of a special peace delegation, the two day drama workshop, held at the Holy Family Convent Auditorium was organised by The Workshop Players (TWP) and the Centre for Performing Arts (CPA). On entering the premises, one could see heads bent together in discussion, others walking here and there, performing on stage, and off stage. Everyone seemed busy and happy. Being instructed by Jerome to get on stage and perform, a group took to it, while the rest became the audience. As the first skit began to take form, the characters emerged from their frozen positions taking on their cues. The skit represented a familiar storyline.
A Sinhalese woman and a Tamil man, banished from their homes because of their union. The husband is an alcoholic today. The wife is pregnant. The child is born. The mother dies. The father is filled with grief. A dying cancer patient holds out the newly born and says, "See this child. His father is Tamil. His mother a Sinhalese. What is the child? The child you see here is Peace. No nationality". The moment this first skit is over and before the actors have a chance to disappear behind the scenes, Jerome bellows out " Wait, wait. Audience critic", and turning to the others in the audience urges them to have their say. And accordingly they point out the positive points and the aspects the actors have to further develop in their skit. The next skit has a sudden start in which a certain actor had apparently forgotten to come onto act and has to be called from where he was sitting among the audience. After the pause and some humour at the expense of the poor actor, the play got under way, depicting a school classroom. The story line here too was pretty familiar. A Sinhalese boy falls in "love" with a Tamil girl, over which the head master gets angry and says" Such a situation is unheard of. A thing impossible to happen in my school". Two different approaches to the same problem and coming to the one and only solution-reconciliation. The third skit had a more violent approach to the war which has been dividing us and destroying so many lives. The narrator comes on stage and begins his tale "Once there was a very mischievous boy, like any other..." A family is shown. A strong, united, happy family with a father, mother and children of all ages- the youngest being the little mischievous boy. To show the strong bond of this family, the actors create a bond by physical contact, whether it be holding hands, arm touching arm or toe to toe. One day this bond is broken apart, suddenly, torn apart by "a great wind" which is the War. This is a very real life situation which many of these very youth from Jaffna have undergone. The family once so close, is in shreds. They lose touch of each other, disappear and are lost. The narrator, then, representing a Sinhalese soldier goes in search of them to bring them together. However a broken window pane can never be fully repaired. Those cracks still remain. The reunited family is a sorry sight. Ravaged by the war, what remains is broken bits and pieces. The daughter is hysterical, the mother imprisoned in grief, the father
dying, a brother blind, another without a hand, and the last and perhaps
the most heart-rending of all, the youngest of the lot, the little, once
mischievous boy, limping on one foot. Once more we see a different
analysis of the same problem. Problems these youth have faced. Problems to
which they want answers. Permanent solutions, not just talk.
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