Sinhala wordsmith extraordinaire remembered on his 40th death anniversary
By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana
“I write my songs not for critical acclaim but for the sole purpose of the enjoyment of listeners, without them having to turn the pages of a dictionary!” Thus retorted Karunaratne Abeysekera, during an interview, when reference was made to the disapproval of some critics of his lyrical style. Paradoxically now, 40 years after his death, critics are falling over each other to praise his lyrical style; simple though beautiful and musical words, arranged rhythmically to subtly convey, meanings often very deep, which brought about a sea change in Sinhala music for the masses! More importantly, his philosophy has proved correct as the songs he penned still dominate the airwaves, despite the vast changes in the broadcast media since his death. The young, who have no idea whose compositions they are, join the old in singing his songs, made immortal by the vast number of talented Sinhala singers, most of whom he nurtured. To them, to me and my generation, he was our dearly beloved Karuayya whose life was cut short at the height of his career, prematurely at the age of 52, on 20th April 1983. Even the vast expanse of four decades has not dulled the pain in our hearts.
Because of his enduring legacy as a lyricist, many forget that Karunaratna Abeysekara was a pioneer and excelled in many other fields too. He was a true wordsmith excelling in the written word as well as the spoken. He was born in Ratmale, a little village south of Matara on 3 June 1930, the eldest of ten children of Podiappuhami Abeysekara and Premawathi Abeysekara. The family moved to Colombo where his father started a small business but they moved back temporarily to their village during World War II which gave him the opportunity to study Sinhala, Pali, and Sanskrit under Venerable Ananda of Galkanda Vihara, which laid the foundation for the mastery with words. On return, he entered Nalanda College where his teacher was the poet U A S Perera, better known as Siriayya who conducted Lama Pitiya in Radio Ceylon, which was a life-changing event. This drew him to broadcasting, taking part in “Lama Pitiya” from the age of 12. He continued to study oriental languages under Venerable Dehigaspe Pannasara of Vidyodaya Pirivena whilst continuing his studies in English at Nalanda.
Even before gaining reputation as a lyricist, Karunaratna Abeysekara won recognition as a leading poet of the ‘Colombo Era.’ He started writing Sinhala poetry at a very young age, winning the competition for ‘The Best Young Poet’ conducted by Nava Kala Mandalaya in 1942, and continued to write regularly to Sinhala newspapers till death, in addition to publishing several collections. Thanks to Karuayya’s youngest brother Kirthie, who lives in the USA, I have been able to read three sets of poems written close to his unexpected death, which gives a hint of premonition. In a poem titled Ayachanayak (Request), printed in Kalpana in October 1982, he makes an appeal to the ‘Life-giver’ for an extension of ten years. It is a moving poem wherein he gives reasons why he is requesting the extension; that he wishes to see his son grow up, that he can contribute to Sinhala literature in many ways and write for the unity of the nation. It is not without humour, as he states that all he wants is the extension even if it makes him look aged! In a poem addressed to his sister Suji, who has just got married, titled Thawath Neyek (Another Relative) printed in Silumina of 27 February 1983, two months before death, whilst welcoming the brother-in-law, he ends up with a request: ‘Me neth piyawunoth hema heta midee pinin – mage piyambai putui dingak balaganin’ which translates as ‘If by any chance these eyes close due to exhaustion of merit, please look after a bit, my dear wife and son.’ His last poem ‘Duka biya nethi Nivana pathami’ (Wishing for Nibbana sans sorrow and fear) appeared in Silumina a month after his death!
Karunaratna Abeysekara faced the most crucial decision of his life in 1950, when he had to choose between admission to Peradeniya University for a degree or join Radio Ceylon as a relief announcer, earning seven Rupees a day. He opted for the latter as he felt that was the only way he could support his younger siblings, his father’s business being not lucrative. This move not only allowed him to support his siblings admirably but also build a very successful broadcasting career. He was a brilliant newsreader but outshone all others as a commentator. In the era of before television, we were at the mercy of commentators to visualise any important event. Whereas others described what was happening, Karuayya painted the picture in our minds with his unmatched eloquence. I still remember listening to his commentary when Queen Elizabeth visited us in 1954 and painting the picture of the procession in my mind. The way he moved the entire nation to tears at S W R D’s funeral has become part of broadcasting legend.
Invariably, he was drawn to children’s programmes and Saraswathi Madapaya he hosted on Sunday evenings, became the star of children’s programmes. I had the fortune of participating regularly and helping Karuayya from 1957 to 1964, being introduced to it by Karuayya’s brother Daya and my good friend Buddhadasa Bodhinayaka. We would help by sorting out letters, writing features and reading scripts live ,etc.. which gave us the grounding in broadcasting. Karuayya arrived about half an hour before the programme goes live on-air and penned a couple of songs, which were set to music by Master D D Denny to be sung by the children who became the leading musicians later. Saraswathi Mandapaya was the incubator not only for budding singers but also for lyricists and script writers, far too many to mention by name.
Karuayya was the creator of the genre of Sinhala Children’s Songs and his compositions like Sarungale, Lenage pitameda Iri tuna ende kauda mage amme, Dan nivadukale hinda ne iskole, Mamai Raja kale vihilu keru Andare, Surathal ape denila vana mal kele pipeela are still sung by children and adults alike.
He pioneered cricket commentary in Sinhala, the very first being a report on the Ananda-Nalanda Big-match he gave on Saraswathi Mandapaya. He quickly switched to live commentary and is credited with coining many Sinhala cricket terms. No doubt the enthusiasm for and the popularity of cricket, the ‘coloniser’s game,’ in the villages is in no mean measure due to the commentaries in Sinhala which Karuayya pioneered in his inimitable style which enabled the listeners to visualise the game long before the advent of television.
On retiring from the National Service, he joined the Commercial Service of Radio Ceylon where he revolutionised advertising by coining catchy slogans and introducing memorable jingles which are played even today. He was ethical to the core, ensuring that products he advertised stood to scrutiny, often visiting the establishments to ensure. This, unfortunately, is a practice unknown today when celebrities sell their souls endorsing any product for cash!
He was in great demand to present concerts and, in fact, many attended to see Karuayya as much for the concert. When he commenced the proceedings, immaculately dressed with hair combed with Brylcream and a wide smile below the thin moustache, crowds roared with applause as he raised his hands and said Ayubowan His introductions were crisp and concise, describing a lot in a few words. Another less well-known activity was writing the dialogue for films.
Without any doubt, Karunaratna Abeysekara was one of the best lyricists, if not the best, Sri Lanka has ever had; the most versatile without a doubt. His lyrics could be anything from children to classical, funny to provocative but he was at his best when it came to romance, probably because of his own turbulent love affair with Raniakka before marriage. She, like many millions in the country, had fallen in love with his voice initially which later developed into a romance, much objected to by her elders who kept her a virtual prisoner in her home. One day, Tilakasiri Fernado has been waiting in studio 10 of Radio Ceylon for Karuayya as he was one song short for his programme the same evening. When the plight was explained, Karuayya vented the pent-up feelings by writing immediately ‘Enna mada nale, gos pawasanna duka mage’ which was sung with great emotion the same evening and remains a classic in Sinhala music. He requests the wind to take his message of love to her, as it is only the wind that can reach her prison and tells the wind that he is helpless, his only treasure being her, adding that he will be ever grateful if the wind conveys his sadness to her. Quoting a passage from a note Raniakka was able to smuggle through to him, he wrote “Mawa hanga wane, aiyo Sakdevidune, Pandupul asane, aido unu nune” for the film Dingiri Menike.
In turn, Karuayya extended a helping hand to others in romantic difficulties. When there were problems with Sanath Nadasiri’s romance with Malkanthi Pieris, he is supposed to have mediated, in addition to writing the beautiful song “Ma hada asapuwa, kusumin sarasuwa, e Malbara dethai” sung in the melodious voice of Sanath, with the word Malbara hinting at Malkanthi! When Milton Perera had difficulty in expressing his love to Kalyani, he appealed to Karuayya who obliged with “Kalyaniye oba nesu kathawak kiyannam” with Milton declaring his love over the airwaves and thousands of lovers using it since to overcome their difficulties of romantic expression! In fact, Kalyani is mentioned in another song he wrote for Milton: “Sihina dev duwe, obata thun love, ekama nami ma danne e nama adare” wherein Milton sings “Kalyani namata ama pem, divi banduna puda karannam” No doubt, they were happily married!
When Dileepa was born, after a gap of ten years, Karuayya was overjoyed and had been lying down on a mat between the two beds occupied by his wife and mother, when he got the sudden urge to pen a song. He got up and wrote “Dileepa podi puthu, saneepayata nidi, Mawage ukul yahane” which was printed in Silumina. Seeing this Clarence Wijewardene has approached Karuayya and had said he will pay anything for the song! In an interview Karuayya mentioned that this and “Enna mada nale” are his favourite songs. Shortly before his death, Karuayya had been listening to a radio programme where they had discussed “Enna mada nale” Raniakka mentioned in an interview that Karuayya was very pleased and had commented “It is a haunting song.” It is a small mercy that he could listen to his favourite as the last.
No one knows how many songs he wrote in his short but fruitful lifetime as he penned songs for many including my wife, Primrose and the figure of 2,000 often quoted is a gross underestimate. He must have written thousands for the Saraswathi Mandapaya, which went unrecorded. Before the introduction of television, more than half the songs in the SLBC library had been written by him. He had written songs for over 300 films. Though the first song he composed for a film was “Kataragame Devige bime, Ruhunu janapade” screening of Sirisena Wimalaweera’s film Asoka was delayed, Varada Kageda being released before, two songs of which remain popular to this day: “Dalula prema gase” and “Piyalee kedila wetuna nebul Saman male” both sung by Mohideen Baig.
Some critics consider Karuayya’s best lyrics for a film are in Kurulu Bedda, with music by R Muthusamy and sterling performances by Punya Heendeniya and D R Nanayakkara, which include “Aruna Udaye” by Milton Perera, “Oya belma, oya kelma, nilupul nete” by Lata and Dharmadasa Walpola. However, my personal choice is Daskama, the only film Edwin Samaradiwakara provided music for. “Ipida mere” sung by Amaradewa is a synopsis of Buddhism and is a classic but there are many other beautiful songs too, masterfully crafted, and beautifully sung: “Honda Kala ada” by Mohideen Baig, “Mada diye pipunata” and “Turu wadulu tule” by GSB Rani Perera, “Goyam paseela kumbure” by Indrani Wijebandara as well as “Devlova devsepa” by Indrani Wijebandara and Mallika Kahavita.
Karuayya had the versatility to suit the lyric to the singer’s style and even to suit the actor, for film songs. It is said that seven other lyricists failed to satisfy Nimal Mendis for his composition for the film Kalu Diya Dahara but Karuayya succeeded with “Master Sir” He excelled in writing about inanimate objects; perhaps, the only lyricist to do so. “Awile semada” is about a candle, “Basicale” is about the bicycle, “Sarungale” is about a kite and “Naga lovin gena apu Bulathatha” is about sheaf of Betel, a song that runs through all the associated rituals, reminding us about our old traditions. Often, he made use of life-events to pen a song. Whilst having dinner in a Chinese restaurant, the waiter has dropped a tray earning a public reprimand from the manager which prompted, the moment he got home, to write “Wedakarala ewara nometha deviyane – Mokotada ma duppathwe ipadune”
A week or two before his death, we visited Karuayya’s place as Primrose wanted a song for her SLBC concert and she requested any song. It took him less than fifteen minutes to write the song “Minimewuldama nethath banda bendune, Visakavak wanna Diyaniyane – Amila kahavanu nethath ata randune, Anepindusitu wanna Puthanuwane” It was his message to our two children telling them to be generous even if they do not posses the riches of Anathapindika or Visaka. In the lyrics, he urged them to love the nation, serve and treasure Buddhism and shine like the moon by eradicating ignorance through wisdom. Perhaps, he knew this was our last meeting as when he died, I was in Vienna attending the World Congress of Pacing. Forever I regret, for not being with him in his hour of need.
May Karuayya attain the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana!
