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The Opposition fired the first grapeshot of public protest last Friday, resoundingly echoing the ominous grassroots rumblings distinctly heard stemming from the ground.

Though the main opposition, the SJB, was conspicuous by its absence, the gathered opposition’s combined roar was loud enough to make the government alarmingly hear the people’s voice of increasing discontent over its dismal performance.

Perhaps, it was also heard by SJB’s leader Sajith Premadasa and still echoes in his ear, the wail of discontent resonating throughout the land.

Perhaps, hearing the tenor of its roar made him regret his decision—not merely in declining the invitation, playing second fiddle to another—but rather, in his failure as the main opposition leader to take the initiative himself; and organise a joint opposition rally, and by leading the protest from the front, give the most vociferous roar.

The November 21st Joint Opposition rally was no massive wave to topple sandcastles on the beach. It was only the first gentle ripples of the coming tsunami wave. The first streaks of light prior to the dawn were but to herald the sun’s advent. The first few drops of rain signalled a brewing storm, and a gentle breeze followed by a sudden lull were signs of the coming cyclonic wind. This was the turning point.

The turning point, at which a people’s suppressed dissatisfaction over the government’s lacklustre performance finds unanimous voice, turns from a pathetic whimper into a resounding crack of thunder.

The Joint Opposition staged Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark but the absence of SJB’s leader made not the slightest difference to the masses who came in the pouring rain to Nugegoda last Friday and stayed unto the end to hear their own silent protests audibly echoed on stage. The Joint Opposition had seized the moment and ridden on the momentum.

Pity that Sajith had not heeded Julius Caesar’s advice:

‘There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows and in
miseries.

On such a full sea are we now afloat;

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.’

Sajith Premadasa

Had Sajith heard or read and taken to heart what Shakespeare had written centuries ago, he would not have missed the Joint Opposition’s boat as captain of the crew.

But the ones who were most alarmed were from the government benches. Like a daily prayer, they foresaw in advance the immense flop the opposition rally would turn out to be, enough to make opposition members give up their ghosts and flee.

During the President’s budget speech, he paused to congratulate and thank the Opposition for not hobnobbing with a band of scoundrels on Nugegoda’s stage. It led to a deluge of put-downs by JVP ministers and MPs, all condemning the opposition rally as a disastrous flop, a destructive killer blow that would deflate their high hopes or whatever else JVP MPs saw in their Marxist Oracle of faith, even before November 21st arrived.

Though the Joint Opposition rally proved to be somewhat disorganised, as convenor Gammanpila later admitted to the media, the sizable number of people present and the mass fervour they exuded negated the Oracle’s predictions and far exceeded the Opposition’s most conservative estimates.

Namal Rajapaksa

As Gammanpila said at a post-media briefing, ‘We must thank the government for all the free publicity unwittingly given to us by constantly referring to the 21st opposition rally like a mantra. But we deplore all the hurdles we had to overcome to successfully hold this Opposition rally. But despite all the barriers placed in our paths, we transcended them all.’

‘Since this was the first Joint Opposition rally held after the JVP came to power, of course, we had some teething problems. Some speakers billed to speak at the rally had to be excluded for want of time. Some who actually spoke soon ran out of time. Some speeches repeated previous points, giving the distinct impression of tedious repetition. Even I could not give my best due to the enormous pressure on me to see that all went well,’ said Gammanpila.

With UNP’s Secretary Thalatha Athukorale involved in a search for her missing seat, it was left to UNP’s other nominee, Harin Fernando, to do the honours. And what a pig’s breakfast he made of it.

Instead of sticking to the script, he went on a voyage of his own, eulogising Namal and hailing Namal Rajapaksa as Namal Kumaraya, praising him to such an extent that he even forgot to achieve the task he had been specifically assigned to achieve: to read the speech of Ranil Wickremesinghe that all wanted to hear. But it was not to be. Time had run out for him. He apologised for being unable to read his leader’s speech and left the stage in haste.

Gammanpila gave a hint of what is to come in the future. He announced plans to hold a second rally in January which will include the SJB and the diverse forces of the opposition. But whether his ambitious plan to include Sajith in his equation will depend on Sajith’s attitude and mood at that time. Given Sajith’s averseness in having a truck with the SLPP.

With Sajith more bent on a merger with the ancestral party, the UNP, and declared as leader of the new partnership, there was some good news for him to transcend the bad.

The good news that came to swiftly drive away Sajith’s blues was a statement from the UNP leadership.

It announced: ‘The United National Party has issued a statement fully supporting Opposition Leader Sajith Premadasa’s decision to pursue the merger of the UNP and Samagi Jana Balawegaya parties. The statement confirms the UNP’s endorsement of Premadasa taking responsibility for the merger process and announces the appointment of a three-member committee to handle all related discussions.’

The statement brings him nearer to his goal and, no doubt, will light a twinkle in his eyes. But more bridges have to be crossed before assuming the leadership of the two parties.

How can the ‘appointment of a three-member committee to handle all related discussions’ help expedite the process when, by its very existence, it will only serve to prolong the delay?

The doubts and deep mistrust mutually held by the two leaders must end forthwith. The passing of the baton that inevitably happens when the younger rises as the older falls must take place with all due pomp and ceremony to simultaneously celebrate Ranil’s era and herald a new beginning under Sajith before the dawn of the New Year.

And may a brand new Lanka with a credible opposition to end the heartbreak of a nation emerge from the surrounding ashes—the last remains of manifestoes burnt—to lead the people from darkness to light, from ignorance to sane reason and from the depths of poverty to the heights of prosperity.

Maestro of the Natyam art Lanka’s dance maestro of Bharatha Natyam, Thivya Sujen, won the Kala Abinandana, or ‘felicitation and celebration of the Arts’, award in the category of Dance last week at a ceremony held at the Cultural Ministry of the Western Province. But beneath the praise, beneath the surrounding applause of all connoisseurs of the ancient Dance of Bharatha, and far behind the stage on which Thivya was presented the coveted award for the Arts, lay a gripping trail soaked with sweat, toil, perseverance and divine dedication to reach the foothills of the summit on which the Muse of Dance reigns. She had been summoned by the Muse at a very young age and been beckoned to drink the inspiring waters of the Pierian Spring. Divinely inspired from a young age to dance in the steps of the masters, Thivya aspired to learn at their feet every rhythm, every poise, every movement and dramatic pause found in India’s ancient Kshastras. ONE FOR THE ALBUM; award-winning star Thivya Sujen with her mother Pushparany to the right, with her most senior pupil Robini Arulselvam to the left and her daughter Aditri holding the Abinandana award. Hailing from Jaffna, where she was born, the family moved to Colombo when she was just three years of age. Neither her parents nor her grandparents came from any sort of dancing background, but something spurred her protective parents to send their only child, not to a school but to qualified amateurs of Bharatha Natyam to train her in the fine arts. Thivya was duly placed under their expert guidance at a tender six years of age. Her ‘Arangetram’—a young dancer’s maiden solo public performance live on stage before an audience—was held when she was twelve. THIVYA SUJEN: Bharatha Natyam Those initial six years of discipline and training, instilled in her during her formative years, would stand Thivya in good stead in later years when hard work coupled with perseverance is needed most to triumph the many challenges this dance of life throws at the daring artist. As for the Arangetram, the courage required to ascend a cold and lonely stage and render a live solo maiden performance before a critical audience demands strong nerves and supreme self-confidence from a young girl of twelve. She had, indeed, come of virginal age and, stiffened by resolve, began her maiden voyage and crossed the Palk Strait sea to reach the land where Bharatha Natyam was born and nourished to perfection. She had come a long way. Passed through many teachers. They had taught her well until they had nothing left to teach and she had nothing left to learn from them. But she had still not learnt the quintessence of Bharatha Natyam, its spirit and soul. Then she met the Guru. It was no chance meeting but an ordained date. In fact, ordained by her parents with exact time, date and place fixed, for Thivya to keep her ‘tryst with destiny’. From then onwards, Thivya has never looked back. The Guru—based in Chennai—became the centre of her universe, and she revolved around the Guru as her sun, her mentor and her guiding star, from whose radiant source flowed divine rays on which she danced the inspiring dance of ancient Bharath. The results reaped were, indeed, amazing. From the depths of her creative energy flowed pioneering works of Bharatha Natyam art, which came alive when she breathed life into the inanimate robot characters. Thivya’s works include thematic Margams for arangetrams, a concept recognised and appreciated globally. She has produced Bharathi Margam, Aimperum Kaapiya Margam, Tamil Marabu Margam, Motherland Margam, Motherhood Margam, and Nayagi, among others. She has composed more than 60 new dance pieces aimed at preserving and passing on 2,000-year-old Tamil literature through dance. She says, ‘I often integrate diverse dance forms such as Kandyan (up-country), low-country dance, Kathak, Mohiniyattam, Kathakali, Kalari, Kooththu, and modern dance. ‘I am a disciple of the world-renowned Guru, Padmabhushan Professor C.V. Chandrasekhar of India, and I am the only dancer in Sri Lanka to have completed the Teacher’s Grade Examination in both Bharathanatyam and Miruthangam. For this, I was awarded the titles ‘Bharatha Kalavithagar’ and ‘Miruthanga Kalavithagar’ by the NCOMS Examination Board in Sri Lanka. Additionally, I hold a first-class Master’s degree in Bharathanatyam from Tanjore Tamil University, India, and I am currently pursuing my PhD in Dance at the same institution.’ ‘In 2006, I founded the Abhinayakshetra School of Dance. Abhinayakshetra has become a catalyst for artistic development by offering the Guru Kula training system and providing a global platform for performers.’ Far beyond the artistic realm, she has shown she knows the credits and the debits of life. She holds credentials from the Chartered Institute of Management Accountants (CIMA – UK), a degree in International Business Management from Bristol University, UK, and an MBA from Cardiff University, UK. With such a trove of certificates and awards claiming an honoured place in her hall of fame, it’s certain the latest cultural award she won last Saturday will find a place therein provided, of course, Thivya – with all respects – can find the space for it.