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Cunk on Earth and me on Lankan history
I have been enthralled watching the outrageous five parts of the TV series on Netflix – Cunk on Earth with ridiculous Philomena Cunk, played by great British actor Diane Morgan. She has played Cunk in
The series I saw includes In the Beginning, tracing mankind from cave dwelling to civilization; Faith off/on dealing with Christianity and Islam, where Philomena ends an erudite historical narrative with the remark “The crusades where when the cross was carried forth.” The third episode is the Renaissance will not be televised, but there is a full showing. The fourth is Rise of the Machine which obviously brings in scientific advancement and industrialization from the steam engine to conquering outer space by Russians and then the Americans, urged John F Kennedy to win the race. The last of the series I saw was War(s) of the World(s) with communism pitted against capitalism; Apple vs Microsoft; the Beatles against the Stones.
The entire series was a brilliant mix of fact; questions asked by Philomena and answered by experts, usually ending with a remark by her which sounds knowing but is irreverent and often plain stupid. All dead pan of face and delivery. Give it to the Brits to produce sheer, clever, adult comedy just via dialogue. Of course we see so much of the world down the ages. As Diane Morgan herself says: “Philomena Cunk’s epic landmark mockumentary on civilization, tracing humanity’s journey from prehistory to the present day ” is a romp.”
Parody on our greatest
I have embarked on a very poor imitation of Philomena Cunk. For one, she traversed the world from way back when to the early 2000th + year by actually travelling to places, mostly museums. I just sit at my computer and do my own thing. She is a great actor of light comedy; I a mere hack. She makes some very clever surmising; I am only weakly parodying some local greats and momentous events. But much more than her, I need relief from misery and fear. I do not need to spell that out and say it’s because of the country-state we are in: a glorious country heeled by wicked, selfish, even stupid leaders to the dirt.
I know I can be accused of anti-nationalism, even treason. Who cares when our lives are almost worthless with more than half our brothers and sisters sunk below the poverty line and kids crying for a meal. I won’t go to detailing our miseries: they will fill a heavy tome.
So let’ go on our irreverent recalling of the past, being mean and small minded.
We are all familiar with the legend of Prince Vijaya detailed in the Mahavamsa of which we Sinhalese are inordinately proud. How did it start? What’s the beginning of the mighty Sinha race? The Indian queen is supposed to have mated with a lion, not roaring at the time of course, but witnessed with green, vicious eyes by the lioness. The queen had a fling. (May be true after all). She’d seen a very hirsute man in the wild, hairy in chest which attracts some dames. So she escaped the palace and spent time with him. Result Prince Vijaya who was completely obstreperous. There may have been more than this that had him banished from the country by his father, the king.
Which incident was copied by Booker Prize winner Arundathi Roy – narrator of The God of Small Things – whose mother, never named but referred to as Ammu, very conservatively guarded by grandma Kotchamma who was a paragon of virtue. This separated from her husband and mother of two took to rowing vigorously across the river flowing by their pickle manufacturing factory and home. She was panting for her tryst with Velauthan, also probably panting in anticipation of the tryst. Nan does not blame them. Ammu’s husband opted to remain on his estate in Assam; probably a difficult man to get on with. She did not have the luck of the other royal adulterous. The meetings were reported and it was the worst crime since the man was a labourer of low caste. He was incarcerated in prison.
Also though we Sinhalese revere Vijaya as our illustrious princely ancestor, he was really a skunk. He threw his consort Kuveni out of her own palace. She had gifted him not only the crown of her principality but two bonnie babes. He wanted to start a full royal-blooded dynasty and had already cast his mean eye on a South Indian princess. Kuveni was banished to the jungle with her two kids. No wonder she cursed the entire island which curse holds good even today.
The next great historic story of which we burst with pride is of Viharama Devi and her elder son Gamini who curled himself on his bed protesting the ocean below circumscribed him and Elara, doing a good job of ruling in Anurdhapura, in the North. (This incident, made much of, must be the progenitor of protests of shouting, placard caring protestors who are omnipresent all over this land). Nan’s explanation is that Vihara Devi got tired of being almost a prisoner in the Kingdom of Kelaniya; so guarded was she by her ferocious father who boiled a Buddhist monk in oil because he had some letter in his possession. We know not where in his saffron robes he tucked the incriminating epistle in. Vihara Devi escaped in a boat, all alone.
Gamini united Lanka and ushered in a period of glorious prosperity and the flourishing of Buddhism and agriculture. Thus he was given the honour of a prefix of Dutta – brave, fearless and all that. We accept he built the most revered and stunning stupa, but how did it all start? Why did he take his mother along on his warring journey up North getting her to shudder at the cruelty to the most noble elephant – having them doused in hot, hot tar? Simple explanation. He was a mother’s darling and early on a namby pamby. The ten yodayas educated him and tutored him to be a warrior. Anyway, we are so very grateful to both of them. As we see paddy going yellow all over and harvests destroyed, we remember (poor consolation) Dutugemunu ushered in a Golden Age and our being the ‘bread basket’ of Asia.
Parakrama Bahu I, either had a premonition or was advised by soothsayers that the first to pee and make a momentous declaration would rise in Ceylon in the early 1950s. So the Great King, wanting to outsmart and outdo the latter leader, made the momentous decree that not a drop of water would flow to the sea before serving man. (Whether when peeing or not the history books make no mention). So he built massive irrigation wewas of which the most stupendous was Parakrama Samudra. And thus the marvel of our hydraulic systems which world renowned engineers and others who deal with water retention marvel at.
Now the real pee-er was The Father of the Nation. He was a man of the earth, no nonsense in him. He did not look for toilets when travelling to his beloved hinterland. One day he needed to answer a call of nature. So getting down from his vehicle (no convoys with motorcyclists flashing lights etc then) he went to a tree in the surrounding jungle and answered Nature’s call alfresco. Then watching his stuff flow down he determined that not a drop of any liquid would flow into the Indian ocean or the Bay of Bengal without being used to improve the country.(He did not advice following one Indian Premier’s use of urine as medicine). And thus he developed many areas of then Ceylon with improved agriculture being very close to the backbone of the country –farmers. The Gal Oya region was flooded annually and then parched. So he got built the mighty Senanayake Samudra to even outdo King Parakrama’s.
A short take on Kasyapa. He was so bothered by adoring maids, carrying lotus buds or not, he built the upper part of Sigiriya so he could take his favourite and be happy with no one coming anywhere near.I’d better stop here before being stoned by the public or beheaded by historians. It was a welcome romp for me!