
Malini Fonseka : Twinkling Star on the Stage
“Do you like to act in my next stage play? It’s titled Sayuren A Landa, a translation of The Lady from the Sea by Henrik Ibsen,” I asked Malini Fonseka as far back as 1966.
“Is it a long play?” she asked me.
“Yes, it is one of the longest plays of Ibsen,” I said.
I knew Malini Fonseka as a schoolgirl who studied in one of the celebrated mixed schools in Kelaniya, known as Gurukula Vidyalaya. Together with my good English tutor friend, Lakshman Fernando, she played the lead role of the lady in the play.
The play was shown at Havelock Town School Hall, known in Colombo as the main playhouse of the day. This was my second effort of bringing Ibsen to the local audience. I was at the time attached to then Radio Ceylon Music Division as a scriptwriter. Somehow or other, I managed to obtain a radio version of Ibsen’s play in English as produced by the BBC World Service. As I remember, Malini went on asking me quite a number of questions pertaining to the play.
Punchi baba
By this time, Malini was well known for playing several female roles in Sinhala plays. They included the first play of hers as Akal Wassa. She was awarded by the State Drama Festival. Following this success, she played the lead role in such plays as Hiru AvarataGiyado, a translation by S. Karunaratne, Satischandra Edirisinghe’s Bakatapas, Sumana Aloka Bandara’s Nidikumba, and a few other plays. While she was engaged in Sinhala play rehearsals at Royal Primary Premises, she had the chance to enter the Sinhala cine world, presumably with her latent talent as an actress. If I remember correctly, she first played her role in the Sinhala film titled Punchi Baba by Tissa Liyanasuriya. From there onwards, though she never disappeared from the stage scene, she entered more into the realm of different types of films.
One of the chief features in her capacity to grasp the central experience that lay in a play is the effort taken to read the given script. If I remember correctly, she went on reading the script of my play several times and asked me several relevant questions pertaining to the communication factors that are latent. She goes on listening in a meditative mood before stepping on to the needy performance.

For a moment, I felt as the writer and director of the play, Malini had the inner capacity to grasp the complexity of a character. Malini, as I observed her pattern of acting, was fond of retaining the lines of a play script devoid of any changes from her side as a performer. Her interrelations with the fellow actors and actresses, as I noted, happened to be superb. As such, she was quite cooperative with others.
Though the play Lady from the Sea was shown several times, it so happened that it was never a popular play of Ibsen. But in a remote area, a certain priest wanted to organise a show. When the play was over, several members of the audience got around Malini. Most of them said: “We came to see you.”
Malini was quite happy and started talking to them. Some of them gave her presents. She was friendly.
I remember well how she visited to see my parents once or twice. She was quite friendly with them to the point that once she joined one of the pilgrimages organised by a friend of ours. On her way, she bought a certain clay statue of the goddess of art known as Sarasvathi Devi. To our surprise, we saw how she treasured the clay statue.
“This I am going to preserve as a pristine gift of nature until I leave this existence,” she said.
She was religious-minded.
As years passed and the spotlight followed her from stage to screen, Malini never let go of her grace and humility. She carried stories within her. Even as accolades piled up, her essence remained rooted in sincerity.
When I think of her now, I donot just see the actress who captivated crowds or the girl from Gurukula who asked thoughtful questions about Ibsen. I see a life lived with poise and purpose. It was a life that gave light, even offstage.
The little clay figure of Sarasvathi she once cradled in her hands was more than an ornament.It was a reflection of what she carried within. Art, as reverence. Art, as offering.
Malini has taken her final bow. She has gently left the stage she so loved. But her legacy lingers in our memories and in the eyes of those who watched her.
She was, and will remain, our twinkling star.
May she journey on in light and peace.