FAREWELL TO JANUS

D B Dhanapala, has quit this mortal life, leaving behind a trail of legends that will place him in the Golden Book of Ceylon Journalists, if ever there is one.

He was not merely a famous writer. He was a phenomenon who created a new genre in journalism. He took the meanest of Anglo-Saxon phrases and embroidered it with Oriental imagery.

He compared Sir Oliver Goonetilleke’s movements to the Dance of Siva immortalized in a famous bronze where the deity has two legs but four hands symbolic of the well of energy within the man. He described S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike as Diyasena, the Prophet Ruler of the future, who on his death became overnight almost a Bodhisatva to be cherished, adored and worshipped. His widow, Sirimavo, was likened to the famous Indian heroine, the Rani of Jhansi. He believed Ananda Coomaraswamy was a combination of Marco Polo, Ibn Battuta and Fa Hien in his scholarly wanderings across Asia.

WOODWARD’S FIND

So Dhanapala went on, drawing deeply from the learned lore he had gained from the first day he left his village home at Tissamaharama to come under the tutelage of F.L. Woodward, the man who put Mahinda College on the educational map. Woodward discovered among his pupils two boys of exceptional brilliance. One was J Vijaya Tunga (“Grass for my Feet”) and the other was Dhanapala whose education he tended with affectionate care, and ultimately found him a place at Allahabad University.

At Allahabad the itch to write surfaced in Dhanapala. After getting his M.A. in English he wrote his first article to the Ceylon newspapers. It was entitled “Kataragama”. Then the miracle happened. Herbert Hulugalle, the then Editor of the “Daily News” was so struck with it that he showed it to his boss, D.R. Wijewardene. Here was something new in style, in language, and originality of ideas.

Wijewardene whose perspicacity was a household word, then scanning the firmament for talent, realized that a bright new object had swung into his ken. Thus was born a star. Before Dhanapala could unpack his bags he found himself at the editorial desk at Lake House writing under the pen-name, “Janus”, the double-faced god.

Clothed in grey flannel trousers, beige sports coat and striped tie, he was as elegant as his literary style. But as his mind matured and the country moved with rapid strides in the march towards independence and that democratic socialism pioneered by men like Anagarika Dharmapala, he shed not only his Western clothes, but the other adjuncts of colonialism. He became a follower of Bandaranaike and set up a new sartorial fashion for the common man.

TWO FACES OF JANUS

To those who knew him intimately Dhanapala was something of a paradox. He was by conviction a socialist, but by instinct something of a sybarite. This dual personality has rejoiced many of his friends and perplexed his enemies. He was an exuberant extrovert, like most Socialists. He did not care for Communism, as he felt that Marxism killed in a man the happy zest for life.

His hospitality was unbounded and whether you agreed with his politics or not, nobody left his home without feeling that the world is after all a nice place to live in, if it is peopled by socialists like Dhanapala. He was, however, not without strong prejudices and was often, among his colleagues a lone voice. He was a man of few words, but stirred to speech he could voice his thoughts eloquently, even magniloquently.

After he left Lake House he joined the “Times of Ceylon” where in the citadel of Western thought, he founded a Sinhala newspaper, the “Lankadipa”. He knew his Sinhala well enough, but he was by no means a Sinhala scholar. For editing the paper he secured the services of erudite Sinhala writers, but they always worked under his guidance and direction.

It was not until he joined hands with the Independent Newspapers group that his talents found full scope to reach maturity. Dhanapala was often impatient with men who did not pull their weight. Pulling the weight at the early stages of the new venture meant working 18 hours a day.

PROFILE WRITER

As an author, Dhanapala’s writing will stand the test of time and will be read and re-read for many decades. He carried his learning lightly, so much so that there were some people who suspected his scholarship. His book “Among those present” is a series of pen-portraits which will stand comparison with those of the late A.G. Gardiner, the celebrated editor of the London “Daily News”, who wrote under the pseudonym “Alpha of the Plough.” Dhanapala’s other books “The Story of Sinhalese Painting.” and “Madame Premier” can still delight those who wish to regale themselves with the social and political history of modern Ceylon in small but palatable doses.

Only a few intimate friends knew that his charming wife, Rathi, an artist in her own right, had been the cornerstone on which Dhanapala built his reputation. To her and to their talented children – Nihalsinghe, Suranimala and Sumitha –the sympathies of Dhanapala’s friends will go in an overflowing measure. But the artistic heritage they have received from their loving father should more than compensate them for the loss of this lord of language.

(Excerpted from The Good at Their Best first published in March 1971)