Features
My 60-year long movie Madness
PLACES, PEOPLE & PASSIONS (3Ps)
Dr. Chandana (Chandi) Jayawardena DPhil
President – Chandi J. Associates Inc. Consulting, Canada
chandij@sympatico.ca
My involvement with ‘Gamperaliya’ from age nine (acting in 1962, release in 1963, winning the first Sarasaviya Best Film Award in 1964 and winning international awards from 1965) was memorable and enhanced my interest in the world of cinema. I continued to be a very active movie goer from the mid-1960s for many decades, mainly of Sinhala, Hindi, and English movies.
From its first issue of April 10, 1963, I read every issue of a Sinhala newspaper dedicated to movies – ‘Sarasaviya’, for 10 years. I was also a fan of movie reviews by Jayavilal Wilegoda in the Dinamina newspaper. He was the foremost film critic in the sixties and seventies making contributions to Sinhala cinema as a forceful critic. His reviews were well written and were very interesting to read. He influenced a generation of moviegoers in Ceylon.
Watching “the first day first show” of good movies was a common goal of my gang of teenage buddies at Bambalapitiya Flats. My friends and I did not have much pocket money at times. Therefore, sometimes we pilfered some money our mothers gave us for grocery shopping.
We usually bought the cheapest gallery tickets for 50 cents after lining up for over an hour. After the interval, when the lights dimmed, we jumped to better seats at the back of the cinema. A couple of times we got caught by the cinema management who threw us out of the hall threatened us that they would inform the police if we ever returned! We ignored such warnings.
As there was no television in Sri Lanka until 1979, I sought my main entertainment via cinema, theatre, art galleries, radio, and neighbourhood sports. The two years I was in AL classes (Grades 11 and 12) at Ananda College, I saw many matinee movies, cutting classes to do so.
When my father R. D. K. Jayawardena, a perfect example of a Renaissance Man, was appointed to the Film Censor Board of Ceylon, I with y family, was fortunate to see hundreds of movies free of charge with balcony and good seats in the evenings. During those two years I went to the cinema a record 295 times.
After watching my favourite movie at that time, ‘To Sir with Love’ 16 times during its 49-day run at the Regal Cinema in Colombo, I decided that I would become a teacher one day. After that movie, I included Sidney Poitier to my list of favourite Hollywood actors. That list included Yul Brynner, Sean Connery, Clint Eastwood, Lee Marvin, Charles Bronson, Marlon Brando, Paul Newman, Steve McQueen, Anthony Quinn, Alec Guinness, Peter O’Tool, Omar Sharif, Richard Burton, Gregory Peck, Charlton Heston, Kirk Douglas, and John Wayne.
Seeing my list, my father asked me, “Chandana, how come you don’t have any actresses on your list?” After that I included Sophia Loren, Claudia Cardinale, Julie Christie, Elizabeth Taylor, Julie Andrews, and Audrey Hepburn in my ‘favourite’ list of two dozen Hollywood movie stars. When I saw ‘The Graduate’ I fell in love with the seductive Mrs. Robinson, and immediately included Anne Bancroft to make my list complete with 25!
‘Hora shows’ (movies without parental permission) My mother believed in feeding her three children every four hours during the day time. That meant I was expected at home for tiffin (the old British custom of afternoon tea merged with the South Asian custom of a light afternoon meal), sharp at 4:00 pm every day. The movies at the nearby Savoy and Majestic Cinemas commenced at 3:30 pm with trailers of forthcoming movies, commercials, and news.
The timing was a problem for me to manage the tiffin with my mother. Therefore, our ‘hora show’ routine started at 2:30 pm joining the gallery line up; 3:30 pm watching the trailers; 3:45 pm sprinting from the cinema to our home at Bambalapitiya Flats to have a very quick tiffin with my mother; sprinting back to the cinema in time for the start of the movie around 4:15 pm; then back at flats to joint my friends who were in the middle of outdoor games, around 6:30 pm.
My mother always assumed that I was with my buddies playing sports from 4:00 pm. Since she saw me around 4:00 pm, she never suspected me of having been to the cinema for a 3:30 pm show. However, I faced one problem. As many people smoked inside the cinemas at that time, the tee shirt I wore to the movie would usually smell of cigarettes when I returned home.
One day my mother, suspecting that I was smoking (which I was not), scolded me: “Chandana, at age 13, why do you smell like cigarettes? I will tell your father the moment he comes home from work!” and she showed me a cane kept in the house for my father to punish me when I became incorrigible! After that warning, I got over that hurdle after each ‘hora show’ by quickly washing the tee shirt I had worn to the cinema, having a quick shower, and changing my shirt.
Around 8:00 pm, I sat like a saint next to my father who sat at the head of the dinner table. Over dinner my father usually asked: “Chandana, how was your day? Did you behave yourself today?” “Yes, Thaththa. I did” was my standard reply, which was most of the time a white lie. My father had been annoyed in the past when he was summoned to come to my school frequently to listen to complaints about me from the middle school Principal. I was on my last warning at Ananda College a few times. I survived my 13 years there without getting expelled or failing any grade promotion examination, but not without a few painful and humiliating public canings.
Poster raids
My gang at the flats was also involved in other misbehaviour. At one time when we decided to collect movie posters to decorate our bedroom walls, we started going to cinemas during slow hours or early morning during our beach jogs, to remove posters from cinemas. One day around 5:30 am, while removing the posters of ‘For a few dollars more…’ from the Savoy Cinema, we got caught by the security guards, who locked us up in the basement until the manager came to work.
Luckily the Savoy Manager at the time was Mr. Gamage, who lived in flats. When he came to work, I told him, “Sorry Uncle Gamage. We promise not to do this type of thing again.” He was so angry with us and shouted at me: “Shut up! Don’t call me uncle! Wait until I call the police!” and kept us there for a few more hours. Finally, he released us after speaking with our fathers. That day I was seriously punished by my father, who used his belt.
Imtiaz Cader (later a fellow hotelier colleague and an organizational client of mine) whose father owned the Liberty Cinema dealt with me tactfully. “I say, Chandana. Why do you have to steal old posters from our cinema? Come and see me from time to time, and I will give you brand new movie posters.” After that deal. I proudly displayed new posters of ‘The Ten Commandments’ and ‘Nevada Smith’ etc. on the walls of my bedroom. My teenage neighbours who were also ardent fans of Charlton Heston, Yul Brynner and Steve McQueen were somewhat envious of me.
My younger cousins who were well-behaved, unlike me, as they were raised with lot of rules and discipline, loved visiting my bedroom. Just a few months ago, one of my younger cousins, Aruna Seneviratne told me, “Chandana Aiyya, one of the highlights in my young life was to visit your bedroom and look at all those movie posters, paintings, sculptures, and your collections, as we were not allowed to do any of that. You had freedom to do what you liked!”
Movie Nights during Hotel School years
When I joined Ceylon Hotel School (CHS) at age 17 in 1971, my movie going increased. The party mood at the CHS hostel continued throughout my three-year period there. When we had pocket money, we found any excuse to have a party and get drunk. In between these bigger parties, we used to get together in small groups of four to have an occasional drink.
All we needed for that was a contribution of Rs. 2.50 from four students to raise Rs. 10.00 (little more than US$ 2.00 at that time). This was enough for us to buy a bottle of arrack, a bottle of ginger ale, and a packet of Bristol cigarettes. After two hours all four of us were drunk.
When we could not afford to get drunk, we instead went to see movies at 9:30 pm and walked back to the hostel close to midnight. That entertainment cost each student only 50 cents (for the cheapest gallery seat right in front of the screen). Regularly, we upgraded ourselves to more comfortable seats at the back of the cinema during the interval without being noticed by the cinema employees.
I was a bad influence on my CHS batch mates. Usually, the other CHS hostelers who did not even have 50 cents to go to the movies had their entertainment by challenging those who are returning from cinemas for a midnight water fight. The attackers usually waited hiding behind trees in the hostel grounds with buckets of water and fully filled hose pipes. Often it was like a guerrilla ambush. On days we made too much noise after midnight, we made the poor CHS Warden, lose his sleep as well as his temper. If his wife and daughters too were awoken by our devilish screams, we got into deep trouble. When the angry warden came to the hostel to check, we pretended to be fast asleep, some in wet clothes.
A few more acting assignments
After ‘Gamperaliya’ I did two more acting jobs as a child actor. One was a commercial for the product ‘Robin Blue’ directed by Willie Blake, filmed over a weekend at St. Peter’s College in Colombo-4. In that commercial, I acted as the best dressed student of a class. My father acted as the class teacher and a group of St. Peter’s hostelers as extras. In 1968 I acted in another Sinhala movie ‘Abuddassa Kale,’ with the legendary actors Rukmani Devi, D. R. Nanayakkara, Eddie Jayamanne, and a few newcomers like Vijitha Mallika, and Malini Fonseka (her second movie). But after having acted in three movie projects and a play as a child actor in the 1960s, I gave up acting to focus on my career in hospitality from 1971.
In the 1980s, I managed to find a little free time to act in nine TV commercials directed by well-known directors such as D. B. Nihalsinghe, D. B. Suranimala and Shehan Wijeratne of Donald’s Studio. I also appeared on a couple of TV shows, a photo shoot, and a stage show. I then produced over a dozen; large stage music shows in Colombo. I also produced the first-ever ‘Fashion Model of the Year’ in 1988.
My first attempt in directing a music video (for Sohan Weerasinghe’s award winning song ‘Whispers in the Sand’) was nominated by Sunday Observer for the ‘Music Video of the Year’ Golden Clef Award in 1992. I did not win the award but the nomination was a big motivator. I then directed three more music videos for original songs (written/co-written by me). I finally came to the realization that one cannot be a Jack of all trades without being a master of none.
Passion is important, but one must also have the time and commitment. I gave up acting after appearing in the last video clip I directed: ‘Fitness Fever”, for the popular song I wrote in 1993, and performed by 20 top western musicians of Sri Lanka.
Connections with movie stars
Throughout my career as a hotelier, I was fortunate to get opportunities to interact with and host various movie stars and film makers. Most memorable meetings were: Gamini Fonseka who I met, chatted with, and hosted a few times. After meeting him for the first time during the shooting of ‘Gamperaliya’ in 1962, my next interaction with him was in 1973, when I worked as a trainee at Barberyn Reef Hotel. One day, I was working at the front office when a short but extremely handsome man arrived at the hotel.
As I greeted him, he said, “Good Morning, could you please inform Mr. Sudana Rodrigo that Gamini Fonseka is here to meet him.” I was pleasantly surprised and excited to meet my idol again. After lunch I had the opportunity to talk with him.
Although Gamini’s unprecedented popularity stemmed mainly from movies which followed popular Indian movie ‘formulae’, he enjoyed working on artistic movies with complex characters. That was confirmed in my mind when Gamini told me, “Don’t call me a star! I am an actor not a star. Stars fade away.”
I met Vijaya Kumaratunga and Malini Fonseka one day when I was the Executive Chef at Hotel Ceysands in 1978. An excited boatman called to me from the land side of the river asking, “Chef, is the restaurant now closed?” I told him, “Yes. It is well past 3:00 pm and the lunch service has ended.”
He then told me that the matinée idols of Sinhala cinema, at that time, Vijaya and Malini, are on their way to the hotel. “They both are very hungry. Chef, can you please make something for them?” “No problem, for Vijaya and Malini, I will re-open the restaurant and personally cook anything they would like to have!” I told him.
I took their lunch order, and we looked after them well. After lunch I had a quick chat with them. Malini then told me, “I will be at Ceysands again next month. Some scenes for my new film ‘Bamba Ketu Heti’ are planned to be shot at Ceysands.” I was excited as this movie was based on a popular novel by my favourite Sinhala author at that time, Karunasena Jayalath.
I met Dharmasiri Bandaranayake during the shooting of some scenes for ‘Bamba Ketu Heti’ at Hotel Ceysands, I befriended the main actor of the film. Dharmasiri was in his late twenties and had an amazingly creative mind. He was a humble man despite his outstanding artistic talents. Later that year, we met a few times, watched a couple of artistic European movies at the Majestic Cinema in Colombo and chatted a lot about his plans for directing movies and stage plays.
When Dharmasiri told me about his desire to get state funding for his movie directorial debut ‘Hansa Vilak’ I immediately took him home to introduce my father to Dharmasiri. My father was on the board of the Film Corporation which decided on state funding for movies particularly by new directors. Dharmasiri was successful in getting this funding. Three years later he invited our whole family to the inaugural showing of ‘Hansa Vilak’, at the Savoy Cinema in Colombo. It was a remarkable creation by a young director. I was proud to call Dharmasiri, my friend.
My meeting with Swarna Mallawarachchi was in the early 1990s my elder son Marlon and Swarna’s daughter Nare studied in the same school and class. That led to a friendship between our two families. In 1993 to open my first group art exhibition (with my father and Marlon), we invited Lester as the chief guest. A year later when I organized my first solo art exhibition, I chose Swarna to open the exhibition as the chief guest.
Lester James Peries was the chief guest of my first group art exhibition, ‘Three Generations’ (with my father R. D. K. Jayawardena and elder son Marlon Jayawardena) at Mount Lavinia Hotel in 1993. Swarna Mallawarachchi was the chief guest of my first solo art exhibition ‘Contrasts’, at Galle Face Hotel in 1994.
After that I hosted many other movie stars at hotels I managed in Sri Lanka, South America, and the Caribbean. They include Amitabh Bachchan, Harry Belafonte, Dionne Warwick, and Angela Bassett.
Sixty years after the release of ‘Gamperaliya’, my movie madness continues. This year during one of my trips to Sri Lanka I rushed to watch the 49th movie of my favourite Sinhala movie actress – Swarna Mallawarachchi performing opposite Jackson Anthony in ‘Dada Ima’.
Last week I gave mixed reviews in my rating system for movies I saw recentlylike ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’, the sixth part of ‘The Crown’, and ‘Sly’. None of these received five stars in my own star system, rating movies between one star and five stars, which I commenced over 60 years ago.
This week, after watching one of the most expensive movie productions of the year, ‘Napoleon,’ with my 20-year-old younger son Ché, he asked me, “Dad, how many stars?”. When I told him, “only three stars or 60%”, he agreed. Ché has already become a tough movie critic like his grandfather and father!I thank thousands of actors and movie makers for entertaining an ardent movie buff or ‘picture pissa’ over 60 long years.
Features
Why spill water and reject sunlight while burning imported fuel?
Sri Lanka needs a fairer and more transparent approach to renewable energy
by K R Pushparanjan
Sri Lanka has spent several decades encouraging private investment in renewable energy. Small hydropower was among the earliest successes of this policy while rooftop solar has more recently enabled thousands of ordinary households and businesses to become electricity producers. These developments have reduced the country’s dependence on imported fuel, mobilised private capital for electricity generation and contributed towards a cleaner and more diversified energy system.
It is therefore difficult to reconcile these objectives with reports that renewable generators are increasingly being required to curtail production during periods of low electricity demand, particularly on Sundays, Poya days and other holidays. The question is especially relevant to run-of-river mini-hydropower, where naturally available water may simply pass downstream when generation is stopped, and to rooftop solar, where abundant midday sunshine cannot be postponed until the evening peak.
There are, of course, legitimate technical reasons why the Ceylon Electricity Board (CEB), as system operator, may occasionally have to curtail renewable generation. An electricity system must maintain a continuous balance between generation and consumption. On Sundays and holidays, industrial and commercial demand can fall considerably while solar, hydro and wind generation remain available. Certain conventional generating units may sometimes have to remain connected to provide frequency control, voltage support, operating reserves and other services essential for grid stability. Transmission constraints can also make it impossible to substitute generation in one part of the country directly for generation elsewhere.
No responsible renewable-energy producer would suggest that grid security should be compromised merely to accept every available unit of renewable electricity. However, legitimate engineering considerations should not become a blanket explanation that places curtailment decisions beyond public scrutiny.
The CEB itself describes the economic principle underlying electricity dispatch as merit-order dispatch, under which lower-cost generation is normally utilised before progressively more expensive generation. Consequently, whenever inexpensive renewable electricity is deliberately curtailed while substantially more expensive oil-fired generation continues, electricity consumers and renewable producers are entitled to ask why. If a particular thermal generating unit must remain online for frequency stability, voltage support, network security or some other technical requirement, that can be explained. If transmission congestion requires renewable generation in a particular area to be reduced, that too can be demonstrated. Transparency should strengthen technically sound decisions, not threaten them.
Mini-hydro and an unequal contractual relationship
Run-of-river mini-hydropower deserves particular consideration. Unlike reservoir hydro, most such plants have limited ability to store water. When sufficient water is available, but the plant is instructed not to generate, that water may simply bypass the turbines and continue downstream. The opportunity to produce that electricity is then lost. No imported diesel, furnace oil or coal is required to allow that water to turn a turbine, and there is no corresponding fuel-related foreign-exchange expenditure.
Sri Lanka’s mini-hydropower industry was developed largely through private investment. The CEB currently records 219 commissioned mini-hydro projects with an aggregate capacity of approximately 430 MW and acknowledges the role of government policy in encouraging private-sector development of this indigenous renewable resource.
Yet, there has always been a fundamental imbalance in the commercial relationship between the small power producer and the national purchaser. Mini-hydro projects have historically sold their electricity through the Standardised Power Purchase Agreement (SPPA). The very nature of a standardised agreement substantially limits the individual developer’s negotiating position. Published material concerning Sri Lanka’s small-power-producer framework has described the SPPA as standardized and non-negotiable.
This is hardly a negotiation between parties of equal bargaining strength. A mini-hydro developer cannot realistically reject an unfavorable provision and offer the electricity to another national grid. For much of the industry’s history there has effectively been one purchaser, leaving the developer with little practical alternative but to accept the terms offered.
The weakness of that position becomes particularly evident when curtailment occurs. A PUCSL-commissioned study has recorded that under the original SPPA there was no penalty on the CEB for not purchasing energy. The developer may have invested the capital, borrowed the money, undertaken the construction and hydrological risks, maintained the machinery and had both water and generating equipment available, yet still carry the financial loss when electricity cannot be accepted for reasons originating within the national system.
If curtailment is genuinely necessary for grid security, the plant operator may have to accept the technical instruction. It does not logically follow, however, that the entire financial consequence should automatically be imposed upon the weaker contracting party.
Germany curtails renewables too – but differently
Germany provides a useful comparison precisely because it demonstrates that renewable curtailment is sometimes unavoidable even in an advanced electricity system. With very large quantities of wind and solar generation, Germany regularly experiences transmission congestion and occasions when all available renewable electricity cannot immediately be transported to consumers.
The important difference lies in how the problem is managed. Germany operates a regulated redispatch system. European electricity-market rules require redispatch to be undertaken according to objective, transparent and non-discriminatory criteria. Conventional generation, renewable generation and storage can all form part of the process, with interventions determined by what is required to relieve network constraints safely and economically.
Equally important is the recognition that curtailment has financial consequences. Germany’s Federal Network Agency explains that affected generators and storage operators have statutory entitlements to appropriate financial compensation within the redispatch framework. Depending upon the circumstances, relevant arrangements can take account of generation expenditure, lost revenue opportunities, readiness costs, maintenance implications and costs avoided because generation was reduced. The German framework also provides balancing mechanisms intended to address the commercial position of installations affected by redispatch, including renewable generators.
The principle is worth considering in Sri Lanka. When a privately financed generator is required to sacrifice otherwise available production for the security and benefit of the national electricity system, why should that cost automatically and entirely be borne by the generator?
Germany offers another lesson that may be even more important: transparency. Through the Federal Network Agency and its SMARD electricity-market information platform, information on congestion management, renewable curtailment and conventional redispatch is publicly available. Official German figures show that renewable curtailment amounted to approximately 3.5 percent of renewable generation in 2025, meaning that more than 96 percent of renewable electricity generated reached the system and consumers.
Sri Lanka cannot simply copy Germany. The two electricity systems differ enormously in size, resources, interconnections and market structure. What can be adopted, however, are the principles of transparency, non-discrimination, accountability and fair treatment of generators affected by decisions taken for the benefit of the wider system.
What generation remained online?
Whenever significant renewable curtailment occurs in Sri Lanka, sufficient information should therefore be made publicly available to answer some straightforward questions. How many megawatts were curtailed, for how many hours, and how many megawatt-hours of renewable electricity were consequently lost? Which thermal generating units remained operational during those hours? What fuel were they using and what was their approximate generation cost? Why was each of those units technically required to remain online? Was the curtailment caused by system-wide oversupply, a local transmission constraint, frequency considerations or some other identifiable requirement? These are not unreasonable questions. If the decisions are technically and economically sound, the answers should vindicate the system operator.
The issue assumes particular importance because Sri Lanka has historically spent enormous sums purchasing thermal electricity. An Auditor General’s special audit concerning ACE Power Embilipitiya reported expenditure of approximately Rs. 59.454 billion on electricity purchased from that plant between 2016 and 2021. The audit also drew attention to transmission-system problems and the consequences of permanent solutions not being implemented in a timely manner.
This does not establish that thermal generation is unnecessary or that private thermal producers have acted improperly. Nor should allegations of corruption be made against particular parties without evidence. Nevertheless, Sri Lanka’s long history of public concern regarding procurement, governance and major public expenditure makes transparency particularly important. Large thermal power contracts, fuel purchases and capacity arrangements involve substantial sums of money. The best protection against suspicion is not secrecy but disclosure.
If expensive thermal generation genuinely has to remain online while inexpensive renewable generation is curtailed, publish the technical reason. Publish the quantities. Publish the relevant costs. Allow engineers, economists, regulators, investors and electricity consumers to examine the decision for themselves.
Rooftop solar must not become the next casualty
The same argument now applies to rooftop solar. Sri Lanka successfully encouraged households and businesses to invest their own money in solar installations. Net Metering, Net Accounting and related arrangements helped transform consumers into small-scale electricity producers and contributed substantially to the growth of distributed renewable energy. PUCSL continues to recognise Net Metering, Net Accounting and Net Plus within Sri Lanka’s rooftop-solar framework.
The rapid expansion of rooftop solar undoubtedly creates genuine technical difficulties. Solar production is concentrated around daytime hours, while Sri Lanka’s major electricity demand peak occurs later. On a sunny Sunday or holiday, solar production can therefore be substantial precisely when commercial and industrial demand is low. Distribution networks designed for one-way electricity flows may also encounter voltage and hosting-capacity limitations as increasing quantities of electricity flow back from consumers towards the grid.
But it would be fundamentally unfair to encourage citizens to invest their savings in solar energy and subsequently treat their electricity as a problem simply because the national grid has not developed quickly enough to accommodate it.
Battery energy storage offers an important part of the eventual solution. A household battery can capture surplus solar energy around midday and release it during the evening, when both the household and the national system need electricity most. PUCSL has already recognized the value of combining rooftop solar with battery storage in its evolving regulatory arrangements.
However, domestic battery storage still represents a considerable additional investment for an ordinary household. Public policy should therefore be careful not to make battery ownership an economic prerequisite for participating in rooftop solar before such systems become reasonably affordable.
Until domestic battery storage becomes economically accessible to the average household, Net Metering and Net Accounting should be preserved, strengthened and made genuinely accessible. They provide a practical bridge between today’s rapidly growing distributed solar generation and tomorrow’s electricity system in which affordable batteries, utility-scale storage, pumped hydro and sophisticated demand management can shift much more renewable energy from periods of surplus to periods of high demand.
The national grid should, during this transition, continue to perform an important balancing function. Meanwhile, policy should encourage rather than compel household batteries through appropriate time-of-use tariffs and incentives. As battery prices decline, consumers will increasingly adopt them voluntarily because the economics make sense.
The grid must evolve with renewable energy
The longer-term answer is therefore not to choose between renewable energy and grid stability. Sri Lanka needs both.
Investment is required in battery storage, pumped-storage hydro, stronger transmission and distribution networks, better renewable forecasting, modern inverter technology, sophisticated system-control facilities and demand-response programmes. Electricity tariffs can also be designed to encourage industries, commercial establishments, water pumping, electric-vehicle charging and other flexible loads to consume more electricity during periods of abundant solar production.
The electricity system must gradually become capable of moving energy not merely geographically but also across time—storing electricity when nature provides more than consumers require and releasing it when demand rises.
This is also essential for maintaining investor confidence. Private investors make renewable-energy decisions according to expected annual generation, financing costs and anticipated revenue. If a developer can spend substantial capital constructing a renewable project only to face unpredictable curtailment outside his control and without adequate compensation or contractual recourse, the investment risk increases. Eventually that risk translates into higher financing costs, higher required returns and fewer projects.
A country cannot credibly invite private investors to finance renewable energy infrastructure while retaining an overwhelmingly one-sided contractual ability to discard their output and transfer the resulting financial loss back to them.
Transparency should not frighten the CEB
Nobody should expect the CEB to compromise national grid security merely to accommodate a mini-hydro plant or rooftop-solar producer. Where curtailment is technically unavoidable, it should occur.
But “system stability” should never become a phrase that ends the discussion.
Where synchronous generation must remain operating, explain why. Where transmission congestion requires renewable curtailment, identify the constraint. Where renewable producers sacrifice available generation for the benefit of the national system, develop a fair compensation mechanism. Where expensive thermal generation remains operational while naturally available water bypasses turbines, disclose why that was the technically necessary and economically preferable decision.
Germany demonstrates that renewable curtailment and renewable-energy development are not contradictory. Even sophisticated electricity systems sometimes have to discard renewable electricity. The difference is that a mature system attempts to minimize curtailment, operates under transparent rules, publishes relevant information and recognizes the financial consequences imposed upon generators.
Sri Lanka should aspire to the same principles.
We should not encourage private investors to build mini-hydropower plants and then place them against the wall through contracts over which they have little negotiating power. We should not encourage households to spend their savings installing solar panels and later make them bear the cost of deficiencies in the electricity network. And we should certainly not discard economically usable indigenous renewable energy without a convincing explanation while scarce foreign exchange is being spent importing fuel.
Sri Lanka should not spill usable water, reject available sunlight and then burn imported fuel to produce electricity that nature was prepared to provide without a fuel bill.
The issue is not whether every unit of renewable electricity can always be accepted. Clearly it cannot. The real test is whether every unit curtailed was genuinely necessary, whether the least-cost and least-wasteful solution was chosen, whether affected producers were treated fairly, and whether the public is permitted to see the evidence.
That is not an unreasonable demand from renewable-energy producers. It is the standard of transparency, accountability and economic discipline that Sri Lanka’s electricity consumers should expect from a modern national power system.
Features
‘Career of Evil’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense 22
by Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha
I return now to J K Rowling of Harry Potter fame, writing under the pseudonym Robert Galbraith about Cormoran Strike. There are several books in this series of off-beat detective stories, featuring a private investigator who lost a leg while serving in the army, and his assistant Robin Ellacott, who had been raped when a student, with lasting psychological effects. Strike himself was the child of a rock band groupie, who had lived a sordid life, her last attachment being to a failed rock star of relatively aristocratic provenance and brutal habits.
Career of Evil is the third in the Strike series, and markedly different from the two books I read previously, the first and the fifth. Those were relatively speaking classic whodunnits, with a range of possible murderers, the solution in the end being quite unexpected but also convincing. The murderers in both cases are unhinged, but this does not become obvious until Strike has put two and two together and revealed a history of aberrant behaviour.
This novel has just a few suspects, all of them bizarre, as is made clear from the moment they are introduced. The case begins with Robin being sent a severed leg from a dead body, or rather it begins with the thoughts of the murderer who seeks revenge from Strike, which it seems he intends to achieve by first terrifying and then killing the woman he calls Strike’s Secretary. He also evinces a horrid desire to mutilate women after abusing them.
The first person Strike thinks of as a possible suspect is a member of a crime syndicate known to have sent body parts through the post, but Strike soon decides that he cannot be the perpetrator, in part because he is not likely to have known that Strike was responsible for his conviction earlier. Rather Strike is convinced it is one of three people who hate him, two of them individuals he helped to prosecute when he was in the investigating unit of the army, the third his step-father whom he suspected had killed his mother.
Unfortunately, Wardle, the policeman assigned to the case, who gets on well with Strike, is convinced it is the first person Strike had suggested, and does not seem interested in the rest, so Strike sets about trying to find out what they are up to.
They are not easy to trace, but Strike eventually tracks them down. He finds Laing’s mother in Scotland, although she is no longer able to provide any useful information. He then tracks down the mother of Laing’s first wife, Rona, whom Strike had found tied up and tortured. It was this incident that led to Laing’s conviction and imprisonment, and ultimately fuelled his hatred of Strike.
He finds the sister of the second suspect, Noel Brockbank, and learns that she and her brother were both abused as children by their stepfather. Brockbank later went on to abuse young girls himself. When Strike went to arrest him over the abuse of his stepdaughter, Brockbank attacked him with a broken bottle, and Strike knocked him out. Brockbank subsequently suffered seizures and was found to have a serious brain injury. Although Strike was initially blamed for the injury, it was later established that Brockbank had fractured his skull in a rugby match before the confrontation. Brockbank was therefore never convicted of the abuse allegations, while Strike was cleared of responsibility for his brain injury.
Strike’s third suspect is his former stepfather, Jeff Whittaker, whom he describes as unutterably filthy and abusive, yet strangely attractive to women. When Strike tracks him down, he finds Whittaker living with Stephanie, a woman who supports him with what she earns as a sex worker. Despite being abused by Whittaker, she remains devoted to him.
In his musings, the killer refers to the woman he lives with as “It”, suggesting that he could be Whittaker, who lives off Stephanie’s earnings. But when Robin is attacked by a man dressed differently from Whittaker, whom she had seen shortly before, it becomes clear that Whittaker is not the killer. Laing, the first of Strike’s three suspects, is also apparently ruled out when Robin sees him on crutches and learns that he is claiming disability benefits. Strike and Robin therefore concentrate on the third suspect, Noel Brockbank, whom they eventually trace to a home he shares with his girlfriend, Alyssa, and her two young daughters. Robin has seen the younger girl and becomes increasingly worried about what Brockbank might do to her. Although Strike has ordered her to leave Brockbank alone, Robin continues investigating because of her concern for the child. She eventually discovers that Brockbank has been sexually abusing the older of the two girls.
Meanwhile, Strike and Robin manage to identify the girl whose leg was sent to the agency. Among the bizarre letters Strike had received in the past was one from a young woman who fantasizes about having her healthy leg amputated and believed that Strike had deliberately had his own leg removed. Robin realises that the girl was suffering from a condition known as body integrity identity disorder, or BIID, in which a person has a persistent desire to have a healthy limb or other body part removed. Strike simply ignored the letter, unaware that the girl was suffering from a recognised condition and that her request was serious. The girl, Kelsey Platt, is subsequently found to have been murdered, and the police discover forged letters apparently written by Strike in response to her.
Wardle has his suspicions of the man married to the girl’s sister, with whom she had lived. Strike thinks this absurd, and it turns out that the man has an alibi for the time of the murder, but Strike does go along when the sister asks to see him and is overwhelmed by the sense of grief she and her husband evince.
The girl is evidently a godsend to the murderer, whose desire to remove body parts could not be controlled. He chops fingers off a girl he almost kills, and then removes the nose and ears of a girl he kills soon afterwards. And previously he had sent Robin the toe of the girl whose leg had been sent earlier.
All this horror can seem over the top, and one may wonder how Rowling could bring herself to wallow in such grim material. But perhaps she felt very strongly about the abuse women were subject to, and though her depiction of the way women played into the hands of abusive men seems excessive, she feels that awareness of that increases the need for support groups and other mechanisms to provide safety nets.
But there is also another side to the novel, namely the relationship between Strike and his partner Robin, which verges on the romantic though neither wishes to move on the matter. Strike feels diffident about taking advantage of his position as her employer, while Robin is engaged to a young man she has known for years, and whom she was virtually engaged to while at university. He has stood by her after the rape, when she could barely face society, and she finally decides to accept him and they are planning their wedding at the beginning of this book. But she finds that he is jealous of Strike, and hence his resentment of her commitment to her work, she breaks off the relationship when they are staying with her parents to finalize arrangements for the wedding.
But they still share a flat, and given the threat looming over her she cannot really move to live by herself. And gradually his misery wears her determination down, and she agrees again to marry him. The novel ends with their wedding, which Strike just manages to get to, causing her to beam, though she ‘had not once smiled in the entire service’.
But they still share a flat, and with the threat hanging over her, Robin cannot really move out and live by herself. Gradually, Matthew’s misery wears down her determination, and she agrees to marry him after all. The novel ends with their wedding. Strike arrives just in time, battered and bloodied after his confrontation with the killer. Robin has not smiled once during the ceremony, but when she sees Strike, she suddenly beams.
Before that, in the kerfuffle caused by Robin’s attempt to rescue the children of the woman Brockbank was living with, Strike sacks her. This turns out to be useful to him, because he subsequently enlists the children’s mother, Alyssa, to help trap the killer, whom he has by then identified as Donald Laing. With Shanker’s help, Strike arranges for Alyssa to pose as his new secretary and lure Laing into the open while he gains access to the flat Laing has been using as a hideout. There he discovers the evidence of the murders, including the severed body parts kept in a refrigerator.
This leads to a dramatic climax in which the murderer turns up. Strike has difficulty subduing him, partly because of his missing leg, but he is helped by Shanker, a man whom his mother, Leda, had taken in as a neglected and
badly beaten boy and who has remained deeply grateful to the family. With the murderer captured and the case effectively wrapped up, Strike asks Shanker to drive him to Yorkshire, where Robin’s wedding is taking place. They arrive while the ceremony is still in progress, and Strike manages to get into the church just as Robin is making her vows. When she sees him, she beams and says “I do” while looking at him rather than at Matthew.
Clearly, this suggests that the relationship between Strike and Robin is far from settled. Indeed, as I discovered when I read the fifth book in the series, the story certainly does run and run.
Features
Ananda Ganegoda: Pioneer in popularising Sinhala music
by Dr Upul Wijayawardhana
It was with a great sense of sadness that I received the news about the death of Ananda Ganegoda at the age of 80 years; the last of the famous industrialist Ganegoda brothers to depart. Ananada was a businessman par excellence but he ought to be remembered specially for his outstanding contribution to popularising Sinhala music by founding the music label Singlanka in 1980. Unfortunately, I lost touch with him, having seen him only once since I left Sri Lanka in May 1988. As I mentioned in my article on statins (Cholesterol lowering statins: Scope for use widens – The Island; 18 September) I have met some remarkable people in my practice of medicine and Ananda was certainly one of them.
The Ganegoda brothers were actually two sets of first cousins though they worked as a single family. Nandajeewa, Sumanalatha, Wimalajeeva, Karunajeewa and Ratnajeeva were the children of Jineris Ganegoda whilst Chandrasiri, Jinadri and Ananda were the children of Jineris’ younger brother Johanis. Sadly, it seems to have been forgotten by many that the Ganegoda brothers were instrumental in changing our export economy by starting garment factories in 1954, one of the first groups of non-traditional exports. According to a family post on Facebook, the visionary leader was Wimalajeewa, who started Noortex, Mayura, GIL and Eurolanka garment factories. Others followed suit and they presided over a vast business empire.
My first contact was not with Ananda but Karunajeeva, if my memory serves me right. After a consultation and a friendly chat, he invited me to a factory visit, which I readily agreed to. He took me to one of the factories in Ratmalana and I was very pleasantly surprised with the high standards maintained in the factory including workers’ welfare. I was able to taste the delicious food served to the workers. The icing on the cake was his measuring me out for shirts and trousers which I wore for a very long time!
Maybe around late 1983 or early ‘84, Ananda ‘channelled’ me for a consultation in the Central Hospital for chest pain and was accompanied by his wife, Nandani. I noted that, in addition to the cigarette smell, he had heavy nicotine staining of fingers. After having ensured that his pain was not cardiac, I tore into him stating, “What is wrong with you? You are among the Sri Lankan businessman doing well and you seem determined to commit suicide with chain smoking,” Then I started wondering whether I had been too blunt, but Ananda said “Dr, Thank you very much. I will stop smoking” and his calm response took me by surprise. On a subsequent social occasion, Nandani whispered in my ear that he had an occasional ‘secret smoke’ and when I encountered, Ananda said “Dr, hari amarui” but promised he would give up completely. I do not know whether he did so but the significant reduction of consumption, hopefully, contributed to his longevity.
I met him last in 1995, in the role of a peacemaker when he was in open conflict with a close relative of mine. I pleaded with him to stop the battle, pointing out that one of his nieces was being courted by the son of my relative. Though shocked, he promised to make peace.
Ananda’s crowning achievement was the founding of Singlanka which made Sinhala songs accessible to the masses. Those of us, old enough to remember, know how difficult it was to listen to music. As a child, I had to go to the village Community Centre to listen to the radio, which is in utter contrast to what is happening today. With just a click on the smartphone anyone can listen to music of any choice, anytime, anywhere as long as you are connected to the internet! Recording with the ability to playback, started with the Phonograph invented by Thomas Edison in 1877, Vinyl records being available from the early twentieth century. They came in various speeds and sizes but needed cumbersome players.
The real breakthrough came in 1963, when the Dutch company Philips introduced the Compact Cassette with more convenient players. Singlanka gave everyone the opportunity to listen to their favourite artists on Compact Cassettes. When the Compact Disc format, developed jointly by Philips and Sony, released in 1983, gathered momentum, Singlanka too moved to this format but most of us are still in possession of Singlanka cassettes. I still occasionally listen to Nanda Malini’s “Pavana”, which has become relevant because of the recent death of Nanda Malini and the ascent of JVP to power, but that is another story.
Most of our famous singers, including the greats like Amaradeva and Nanda Malini, owe at least a significant part of their fame and fortune to Singlanka, which was Ananda’s brainchild. Looking at the discography of Singlanka is like looking at a list of all favourite singers. In addition, Ananda gave the opportunity to the less known in the field of music also to showcase their talent, the best example being Carlo Fonseka’s Calochita Gee, which was a compilation of songs sung by various artists to the lyrics and melodies of Carlo. Who would have imagined multi-talented Carlo having musical creativity as well!
As for me, one event illustrated his generosity and his sense of gratitude. When Dr N J Wallooppillai retired, and I succeeded him as Cardiologist, I arranged for an international conference “Cardiology Update”, which was held on 6th and 7th of June 1985 at Galadari Meridien Hotel, culminating in a banquet. When I rang Ananda about this, he immediately offered to sponsor music for the evening and arranged for Patrick Denipitiya Combo to play and Ivor Dennis, Indrani and Sisira Senaratna to sing. It was a memorable evening, with plaudits from attendees, though we did not have an opportunity to rehearse. I compeered and we selected the songs as we went on. When Indrani wanted to sing Gaya Geethayan I had to stop as it was a Hindi tune and Indians were in the audience! My wife Primrose joined Ivor Dennis to duet “Olu Pipila Wela Lela Denawa”. We ended the banquet with Ivor Dennis singing, and the audience joining, the patriotic song Dakuna, Negenahira, Batahira, Uturada, Eka Kodiye Sevene thanks to Ananda. I am eternally grateful to him.
May Ananda attain the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana!
-
Editorial6 days agoBirth of a bad law
-
News4 days agoPolice remove Thileepan statue in Jaffna
-
News6 days agoTIN mandatory for key transactions from Nov. 1
-
Features4 days agoThe 22nd Amendment, constitutional recovery and illiberal slippage
-
Features4 days agoOf foreigners as CEOs of Lankan ventures
-
News4 days agoSajith rejects Jt. Opp. protest sabotage claim; SJB TU chief demands remedial action
-
Latest News2 days agoGold winner Tharanga gets brand-new Honda Vezel from SLAAJ
-
Features3 days agoThailand’s biggest new global star …



