Features
Kevum,Krida , and Kade : Avurudu in Colombo

By Uditha Devapriya and Pasindu Nimsara
No Avurudu would be complete without an Avurudu Ulela. It has become part of our national social calendar, an event that must be organised, a tradition that must be kept. Practically every institution, from nurseries to universities to companies to Rotaract Societies, has a shot at holding one. The result is that somehow or the other, an Avurudu Ulela unfolds somewhere every other day until the end of April.
In Colombo, and most major cities, Avurudu Ulela, or Festivals, serve a decorative function. They are designed, structured, and “ordered” to represent the ideal of Avurudu. This is hardly a radical suggestion, but it underlies an important point: in a typical Avurudu Festival, or at least the best among them, spectators are made to imagine what Avurudu means, or rather is supposed to mean. Our contention here is that such festivals focus on the basic elements of Avurudu, a trinity of sorts: kevum (food), krida (games), and kade (shops, stalls, and kiosks). This is rather simplistic, but it reinforces the point.
Christmas is often touted as a time for family. Avurudu, by contrast, is a communal affair, even if consumerism, urbanisation, and the mass media have made it more individualistic and family oriented. In line with this, Avurudu Festivals strive to be as communal as they can, promoting shared experiences. And yet, the idea of communalism – in the positive sense, not negative – has undergone a transformation over the years, particularly in the cities. Today you “take time off” for an Avurudu Ulela: you take the bus or your vehicle, travel all the way from somewhere or the other to the location. The event itself becomes a highly atomised affair, resembling a function rather than a festival.
Such transformations are only to be expected in a society that is becoming more specialised and specialist every day. These transformations did not begin yesterday. They are part of a broader cultural change. Over the last 25 or so years, there has been a radical shift in the social composition in cities like Colombo, including suburbs. In light of these developments, the very character of Avurudu Festivals has undergone a transition.
This is true not just of the events we take part at these festivals, or the food we eat, but even what we wear. Ever since batiks took off and became a “cultural industry” here, lungis and baniyans have become highly exoticised things. We wear them and then take them off: they enable us to become “locals”, or more specifically, “villagers.” They are as decorative and ornamental as the masks and sculptures at Laksala and Barefoot. Like anthropologists, we descend on these practices every year, turning the very idea of a communal gathering into a function, an event, or for the lack of a still better word, a spectacle.
At first glance, this seems a radical way of looking at Avurudu – specifically, the way it is celebrated and viewed in Colombo. But there is nothing really radical here. In Colombo – and in cities and even in villages which are fast being swamped by the “civilising” forces of “modernity” – the most traditional events get “routinised.” We no longer “have” fun, we “experience” it.
The most rudimentary element, including music, gets “scheduled” and forms part of an agenda. Avurudu songs become as predictable as baila at a Big Match: they are there to bring out the joie de vivre of the event, but organisers ensure they are in line with a set pattern. In a culture where work and leisure have become atomised, these events and festivals offer a form of leisure that sits in well with their sensibilities.
Without idealising or fetishising what life in a typical Sinhala village would have been like hundreds of years ago, it’s evident that work and leisure were never compartmentalised as they are today. Rituals were not something to be kept at a distance: they formed a part of everyday, ordinary life. Avurudu marked the end of a harvest season and the beginning of another. The festivals were incidental to this transition: they did not lie away from them. Most of the Avurudu songs that are performed today celebrate this. But in celebrating it, we have externalised it, or as the purists would have it, commercialised it.
Avurudu is not the only festival that has been ruptured this way: Christmas, even Vesak and Poson, have been radically transformed, sometimes beyond recognition. Like Christmas, Avurudu is a “pagan” ritual: it incorporates a mishmash of pre-Buddhist rites that have since been absorbed into Sri Lanka’s unique Buddhist ethos. And like every such festival that has been “modernised” and brought up to date, it has also become a highly exotic affair. Yet unlike Christmas, Vesak, and Poson – which have been transformed to such an extent that it is difficult to imagine what they looked or felt like before the “forces of modernity” crept in – Avurudu gives us a chance to imagine the concept of the village, or gama.
Every year, hundreds of Avurudu Festivals crop up in Colombo and other cities. In almost all of them, there is an almost subconscious attempt to replicate the gama, mainly through that trinity of rites we mentioned earlier: kema, krida, and kade. By replicating it, the organisers try to reimagine that village, though not always accurately. More so than Christmas, and certainly more so than Vesak and Poson, in an Avurudu Festival one discerns a fixation with the Sinhala village which has permeated and continues to permeate our thinking.
Our conception of that village may be at odds with the historical reality. And more often than not, it is. Yet Avurudu Festivals in Colombo, though following a certain pattern, offer a window to that ideal, a chance to relive and embody it.
In that sense, the most interesting Avurudu Festivals in Colombo would be those organised by villagers. Such festivals would reveal not just how those in the city reconceive the Sinhala gama, but also, crucially, how Sinhala villagers reconceive the city and refract Colombo’s reimagining of the gama. While this looks like an oddity, something that simply does not happen, there is one such festival that unfolds every year at the heart of Colombo which is organised by “villagers” – and intriguingly, is open to a large crowd.
This is the Avurudu Ulela organised by the Hostellers of Royal College Colombo. Home to over 300 students, the Hostel has today transformed into what can best be called a nexus between the city and the village. Most of the localities its students hail from lie more than 50 kilometres from Colombo. This has enabled a transmission of cultural values, but more importantly, a two-way exchange of cultural values: from the rural to the urban, and as crucially, from the urban to the rural. Such transmissions and exchanges are evident in the many events and festivals that these students organise.
The Hostel Avurudu is no exception. Unlike most school Avurudu Festivals, the parents don’t get involved in the organising: the students do. This enables them to structure the event in line with their conceptions of village and city. It unfolds in a set pattern, beginning with a customary milk boiling ceremony, moving on to a satirical skit, transitioning to breakfast, games, lunch, and still more games, well into the night. At the centre of it all is a telling titled gama gedara, which represents the household of an influential villager: a reflection of the social class to which most of the students – many of whom are sons of teachers, bus owners, public health inspectors, and the like – themselves belong.
What is interesting is how culturally dualistic the Festival becomes, which puts it a cut above most other festivals organised in Colombo. The rural seeps into the urban, but the urban seeps into the rural as well. To give just one example, the satirical skit which unfolds in the morning at the gama gedara is dominated by an arachchi, one of the most recognisable Sinhala rural archetypes.
In popular culture, including teledramas, the arachchi invariably has a wayward son and a pretty daughter, not to mention a group of servile acolytes. This is reflected in the skit itself. Yet, interestingly enough, and no doubt because of the rural origins of the organisers, there is an authenticity in the way the actors playing these parts deliver their lines and act out various situations.
The Hostel Avurudu is, in that sense, an exception. The function of an Avurudu Festival, at the end of the day, is to bring people together. In Colombo, it has acquired a logic and a character of its own, helping us reimagine the Sinhala gama in the most creative, exotic, yet “orientalist” ways possible. The Hostel Avurudu strays from this tendency, and presents a view of the gama that is at once urbanised, refined, and also much more authentic. We have been to many Festivals, in the village and city. The Hostel Avurudu represents something of a synthesis of them. At one level, it is an interesting study for scholars.
Uditha Devapriya is a writer, researcher, and analyst based in Sri Lanka who contributes to a number of publications on topics such as history, art and culture, politics, and foreign policy. He can be reached at .
Pasindu Nimsara was the Deputy Head Prefect of the Royal College Hostel in 2022. He is now preparing for his higher studies. An ardent reader of anthropology, he hopes to study and pursue the subject. He can be reached at .
Features
Sri Lanka’s Foreign Policy amid Geopolitical Transformations: 1990-2024 – Part I

Sri Lanka’s survival and independence have historically depended on accurately identifying foreign policy priorities, selecting viable strategies as a small island state, and advancing them with prudence. This requires an objective assessment of the shifting geopolitical landscape through a distinctly Sri Lankan strategic lens. Consequently, foreign policy has been central to Sri Lanka’s statecraft, warranted by its pivotal location in the Indian Ocean—adjacent to South Asia yet separated by a narrow stretch of water.
Amid pivotal geopolitical transformations in motion across South Asia, in the Indian Ocean, and beyond, the formulation and implementation of Sri Lanka’s foreign policy has never been more critical to its national security. Despite the pressing need for a cohesive policy framework, Sri Lanka’s foreign policy, over the past few decades, has struggled to effectively respond to the challenges posed by shifting geopolitical dynamics. This article examines the evolution of Sri Lanka’s foreign policy and its inconsistencies amid shifting geopolitical dynamics since the end of the Cold War.
First
, the article examines geopolitical shifts in three key spaces—South Asia, the Indian Ocean, and the global arena—since the end of the Cold War, from Sri Lanka’s strategic perspective. Building on this, second, it analyses Sri Lanka’s foreign policy responses, emphasising its role as a key instrument of statecraft. Third, it explores the link between Sri Lanka’s foreign policy dilemmas during this period and the ongoing crisis of the post-colonial state. Finally, the article concludes that while geopolitical constraints persist, Sri Lanka’s ability to adopt a more proactive foreign policy depends on internal political and economic reforms that strengthen democracy and inclusivity.
Shifting South Asian Strategic Dynamics
Geopolitical concerns in South Asia—Sri Lanka’s immediate sphere—take precedence, as the country is inherently tied to the Indo-centric South Asian socio-cultural milieu. Sri Lanka’s foreign policy has long faced challenges in navigating its relationship with India, conditioned by a perceived disparity in power capabilities between the two countries. This dynamic has made the ‘India factor’ a persistent consideration in Sri Lanka’s strategic thinking. As Ivor Jennings observed in 1951, ‘India thus appears as a friendly but potentially dangerous neighbour, to whom one must be polite but a little distant’ (Jennings, 1951, 113).The importance of managing the ‘India Factor’ in Sri Lankan foreign policy has grown further with India’s advancements in military strength, economic development, and the knowledge industry, positioning it as a rising global great power on Sri Lanka’s doorstep.
India’s Strategic Rise
Over the past three decades, South Asia’s geopolitical landscape has undergone a profound transformation, driven by India’s strategic rise as a global great power. Barry Buzan (2002:2) foresees this shift within the South Asian regional system as a transition from asymmetric bipolarity to India-centric unipolarity. India’s continuous military advancements have elevated it to the fourth position in the Global Firepower (GFP) index, highlighting its formidable conventional war-making capabilities across land, sea, and air (Global Firepower, 2024). It currently lays claims to being the world’s third-largest military, the fourth-largest Air Force, and the fifth-largest Navy.
India consistently ranks among the fastest-growing major economies, often surpassing the global average. According to Forbes India, India is projected to be the world’s fifth-largest economy in 2025, with a real GDP growth rate of 6.5% (Forbes, January 10, 2025). India’s strategic ascendance is increasingly driven by its advancements in the knowledge industry. The country is actively embracing the Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR) and emerging as the Digital Public Infrastructure (DPI) hub of South Asia. However, India’s rise has a paradoxical impact on its neighbours. On one hand, it offers them an opportunity to integrate into a rapidly expanding economic engine. On the other, it heightens concerns over India’s dominance, leaving them feeling increasingly overshadowed by the regional giant.
Despite significant geo-strategic transformations, the longstanding antagonism and strategic rivalry between India and Pakistan have persisted into the new millennium, continuing to shape South Asia’s security landscape. Born in 1947 amid mutual hostility, the two countries remained locked in a multi-dimensional conflict encompassing territorial disputes, power equilibrium, threat perceptions, accusations of interference in each other’s domestic affairs, and divergent foreign policy approaches. The acquisition of nuclear weapons by both countries in 1998 added a new dimension to their rivalry.
The SAARC process has been a notable casualty of the enduring Indo-Pakistani rivalry. Since India’s boycott of the Islamabad Summit in response to the 2016 Uri attack in Kashmir, the SAARC process has remained in limbo. Countries like Sri Lanka, which seek to maintain equally amicable relations with both India and Pakistan, often find themselves in awkward positions due to the ongoing rivalry between them. One of the key challenges for Sri Lanka’s foreign policy is maintaining strong relations with Pakistan while ensuring its ties with India remain unaffected. India now actively promotes regional cooperation bodies in South Asia, excluding Pakistan, favouring broader frameworks such as BIMSTEC. While Sri Lanka can benefit greatly from engaging with these regional initiatives, it must carefully navigate its involvement to avoid inadvertently aligning with India’s efforts to contain Pakistan. Maintaining this balance will require sharp diplomatic acumen.
India’s expansive naval strategy, especially its development of onshore naval infrastructure, has positioned Sri Lanka within its maritime sphere of influence. As part of the Maritime Infrastructure Perspective Plan (MIPP) launched in 2015 to enhance operational readiness and surveillance capabilities, India is developing an alternative nuclear submarine base for the Eastern Command under Project Varsha (Deccan Chronicle, 22.11.2016). This base is located in Rambilli village, 50 km southwest of Visakhapatnam and 1,200 km from Colombo (Chang, 2024). Additionally, INS Dega, the naval air base at Visakhapatnam, is being expanded to accommodate Vikrant’s MiG-29K and Tejas fighter aircraft.
Another key strategic development in India’s ascent that warrants serious attention in Sri Lanka’s foreign policy formulation is India’s progress in missile delivery systems (ICBMs and SLBMs) and nuclear-powered submarines. In 1998, India made it clear that its future nuclear deterrence would be based on a nuclear triad consisting of land-based Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs), submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), and strategic bombers (Rehman, 2015). Since then, India has steadily advanced in this direction. The expansion of India’s missile delivery systems, including ICBMs and SLBMs, serves as a reminder that Sri Lanka exists under the strategic shadow of a major global power.
The development of India’s nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) accelerated after 2016. The first in this class, INS Arihant (S2), was commissioned in August 2016, followed by the launch of INS Arighat in November 2021. Designed for strategic deterrence, INS Arighat is equipped to carry the Sagarika K-4 submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), with a range of 3,500 kilometers, as well as the K-5, a long-range SLBM capable of reaching 5,000 kilometers. The submarine is based at INS Varsha (Deb, 2021).
India has significantly advanced its missile delivery systems, improving both their range and precision. In 2021, it successfully tested the Agni-5, a nuclear-capable intercontinental ballistic missile with a range of 5,000 kilometers. On March 11, 2024, India joined the ranks of global powers possessing Multiple Independently Targetable Re-entry Vehicle (MIRV) technology (The Hindu, January 4, 2022). These advancements elevate the Bay of Bengal as a pivotal arena in the naval competition between India and China, carrying profound political and strategic implications for Sri Lanka, which seeks to maintain equally friendly relations with both countries.
Further, India’s remarkable strides in space research have cemented its status as a global power. A defining moment in this journey was the historic lunar landing on 23 August 2023, when Chandrayaan-3 successfully deployed two robotic marvels: the Vikram lander and its companion rover, Pragyan. They made a graceful touchdown in the Moon’s southern polar region, making India the fourth nation to achieve a successful lunar landing. This milestone has further reinforced India’s position as an emerging great power, enhancing its credentials to assert itself more confidently in South Asian, Indian Ocean, and global power dynamics.
India envisions a stable and secure South Asia as essential to its emergence as a great power in the Indian Ocean and global strategic arenas. However, it does not consider Pakistan to be a part of this stability that it seeks. Accordingly, when India launched the ‘Neighbourhood First Policy’ in 2008 to strengthen regional ties, Pakistan was excluded. India’s ‘Neighbourhood First Policy’ gained renewed momentum after 2015 under Prime Minister Narendra Modi. His approach to South Asia is embedded in a broader narrative emphasising the deep-rooted cultural, economic, and social exchanges between India and other South Asian countries over centuries. India’s promotion of heritage tourism, particularly the ‘Ramayana Trail’ in Sri Lanka, should be viewed through this strategic lens as part of its broader strategic narrative.
Evolving Indian Ocean Geo-political Dynamics
The Indian Ocean constitutes the next geopolitical frame for Sri Lanka’s foreign policy. The Indian Ocean is a huge bay bordered by the Afro-Asian landmass and Australia on three sides and the South Asian peninsula extends into the Indian Ocean basin centrally. Situated at the southern tip of South Asia, Sri Lanka extends strategically into the heart of the Indian Ocean, shaping its geopolitical significance and strategic imperatives for maintaining sovereignty. Historically, Sri Lanka has often been caught in the power struggles of extra-regional actors in the Indian Ocean, repeatedly at the expense of its independence.
Sri Lanka’s leadership at the time of independence was acutely aware of the strategic significance of the Indian Ocean for the nation’s survival. The first Prime Minister D.S. Senanayake, who was also the Minister of Defence and External Affair, stated in Parliament that: “We are in a dangerous position, because we are on one of the strategic highways of the world. The country that captures Ceylon would dominate the Indian Ocean. Nor is it only a question of protecting ourselves against invasion and air attack. If we have no imports for three months, we would starve, and we have therefore to protect our sea and air communications” (Hansard’s Parliamentary Debates, House of Representative. Vol. I, 1 December 1947, c. 444)
As naval competition between superpowers during the Cold War extended to the Indian Ocean, following the British naval withdrawal in the late 1960s, Sri Lanka, under Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike, played a key diplomatic role in keeping the region free from extra-regional naval rivalry by mobilising the countries that were members of the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM). In 1971, Sri Lanka sponsored a proposal at the UN General Assembly to establish the Indian Ocean as a Peace Zone (IOPZ). While the initiative initially gained traction, it stalled at the committee stage and ultimately lost momentum.
The maritime security architecture of the Indian Ocean entered a new phase after the end of the Cold War. The United States became the single superpower in the Indian Ocean with an ocean-wide naval presence bolstered by the fully fledged Diego Garcia base. Correspondingly, the regional strategic linkages that evolved in the context of the Cold War were eventually dismantled, giving way to new strategic relationships. Additionally, three key developments with profound implications for Sri Lanka should be noted: India’s projection of political and naval power into the deeper Indian Ocean, China’s rapid economic and military rise in the region, and the entry of other extra-regional powers into Indian Ocean politics. Although Sri Lanka adopted a broader strategic perspective and a more proactive foreign policy in the 1970s, its approach to geopolitical developments in the Indian Ocean in the post-Cold War era became increasingly shaped by domestic challenges—particularly countering the LTTE threat and addressing post-war exigencies.
India’s Expanding Naval Diplomatic Role in the Indian Ocean
Parallel to its strategic rise, India has intensified its engagement in the broader strategic landscape of the Indian Ocean with renewed vigor. This expansion extends beyond its traditional focus on the South Asian strategic theatre, reflecting a more assertive and multidimensional approach to regional security, economic connectivity, and maritime diplomacy. India’s active participation in multilateral security frameworks, infrastructure investments in critical maritime hubs and strategic alignments with major global powers signify its role in the changing naval security architecture of the Indian Ocean. India’s shifting strategic posture in the Indian Ocean is reflected in the 2015 strategy document Ensuring Secure Seas: Indian Maritime Security Strategy. It broadens the definition of India’s maritime neighbors beyond those sharing maritime boundaries to include all nations within the Indian Ocean region (Ensuring Secure Seas, p. 23).
In 2015, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi launched his signature Indian Ocean diplomacy initiative, Security and Growth for All in the Region (SAGAR) to foster trust and transparency, uphold international maritime norms, respect mutual interests, resolve disputes peacefully, and enhance maritime cooperation. Strategic engagement with the littoral states in the Indian Ocean region, especially Sri Lanka, the Maldives, Seychelles, and Mauritius and Madagascar has emerged as a key component of India’s Indian Ocean naval diplomacy.
The Seychelles archipelago, located approximately 600 miles east of the Diego Garcia base, holds particular significance in India’s maritime strategy. During Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s official visit to Seychelles in March 2015, India and Seychelles signed four agreements. A key strategic outcome of the visit was Seychelles’ agreement to lease Assumption Island, one of its 115 islands, to India—a move that reinforced Seychelles’ alignment with India’s broader naval diplomacy in the Indian Ocean
Similarly, Mauritius holds a central position in India’s naval diplomacy in the Indian Ocean. During Prime Minister Modi’s visit to Mauritius in March 2015, India signed a Memorandum of Understanding with Mauritius to establish a new base on North Agalega Island, a 12-kilometer-long and 1.5-kilometer-wide Island. The base is crucial for air and surface maritime patrols in the southwest Indian Ocean. It will also serve as an intelligence outpost. In September 2016, defense and security cooperation between India and Mauritius deepened alongside the signing of the ‘Comprehensive Economic Cooperation Partnership Agreement’ (CECPA).
India’s expanding strategic interests across the Indian Ocean are reflected in its growing economic, educational, and defense collaborations with Madagascar. In 2007, India established its first overseas listening post in northern Madagascar to monitor shipping activities and intercept marine communications in the Indian Ocean. This initiative provided India with a naval foothold near South Africa and key sea-lanes in the southwestern Indian Ocean. The significance of India’s defense ties with Madagascar is further highlighted by Madagascar’s participation in China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). As a crucial hub along the Maritime Silk Road connecting Africa, Madagascar’s strategic importance is underscored in the broader geopolitical landscape.
Another element of India’s expanding naval diplomacy in the Indian Ocean is its participation in both unilateral and multilateral anti-piracy operations. India’s commitment to regional security was reinforced in 2008 when it established a ‘Strategic Partnership’ with Oman, securing berthing and replenishment facilities for its navy, along with a strategically significant listening post in the Western Indian Ocean. India’s naval presence in the Arabian Gulf gains additional significance amid reports of a new Chinese naval base in Djibouti and recent submarine deployments. Successful anti-piracy missions in the western Indian Ocean underscore India’s growing influence in the region’s evolving naval security architecture.
India increasingly views its vast Diaspora as a soft power tool to bolster its status as an Indian Ocean power. In June 2014, it launched the Mausam project to reinforce its cultural ties across the region, showcasing its heritage, traditions, and contributions to global arts, literature, cinema, yoga, and cuisine. This initiative complements India’s expanding naval diplomacy and strategic presence in the Indian Ocean. Over the years, it has established listening facilities, airfields, and port infrastructure in key locations such as northern Madagascar, Agaléga Island (Mauritius), and Assumption Island (Seychelles). This has led India Today to ask: “Could this mark the emergence of an Indian ‘String of Flowers’ to counter China’s ‘String of Pearls’?” (The be continued)
by Gamini Keerawella
Features
Greener Pastures, Mental Health and Deception in Marriage:

Exploring Sunethra Rajakarunanayake’s Visachakayo
Sunethra Rajakarunanayake’s Sinhala novel Visachakayo (published in 2023) is a thriller in its own sense due to its daring exploration of social themes that modern Sinhala writers fail to touch. To me, the novel is a mosaic that explores pressing issues that middle-class Sri Lankans go through in the 21st Century. The narrative is seen from the perspective of Akshara, a Tamil girl whom the reader first meets in an infamous ‘Visa Queue’ to get her passport to go to England.
Akshara lives with her grandmother ‘Ammamma’ and her aunt ‘Periyamma’ (the younger sister of her mother). Both Ammamma and Periyamma look after her in the absence of her mother, Chinthamani who passed away a long time ago. Akshara’s father lives in Jaffna, with the kids of the second marriage. Later, we are told that Akshara’s father had to marry the second wife due to the loss of his wife’s first husband, who was an LTTE cadre. The second marriage of men seems to be a common theme in the novel due to their commitments to the family as an act of duty and honour.
The most iconic character in the novel is Preethiraj, ‘the man with a big heart’ who functions as a father figure to the other characters in the novel. It is through Preethiraj’s memory that the reader becomes aware of sociological themes in the novel: displacement and immigration, the institution of marriage and mental health issues. Preethiraj (fondly known as Preethi) is the son of Pushpawathi, the second wife of Akshara’s grandfather. Preethi goes to Royal College, but he has to relocate to Jaffna in 1958. Preethi endures social injustice in both public and private spheres. His studious sister, a medical student, labels him as a ‘lunatic’, while his mother condemns him as the ‘odd one’.
The novel intersects between the three themes: immigration and displacement, mental health issues and the institution of marriage. Almost all the characters have to go through displacement, suffer from intricacies of love laws and marriage rules like in The God of Small Things by Arundathi Roy. The writer offers a nuanced analysis of these three themes. For example, take mental health issues. The novel portrays a spectrum of mental health issues, such as schizophrenia, psychosis, Othello Syndrome, depression, autism and even malingering. At times, the representation of such ailments is extremely sarcastic:
“Hm… Canadian citizenship is an easy solution to secure those opportunities. However, unless I am asked to intervene, I will not meddle with their affairs. The son of one of my friends was introduced to a pretty girl. They liked her, not because of her money, but because of her looks and her ability to play the piano. But later, they discovered she has schizophrenia. Now their son follows whatever she says to save the marriage. My friend says she has lost her son” (p.20).
“Those opportunities” refer to material wealth including money and property in Colombo. Here, Rajakarunanayake does not fail to capture the extreme materialism and consumerism. However, in general, her representation of human follies is extremely humane.
The title ‘Visachakayo’ is another interesting coinage that reflects the plight of Sri Lankans who migrate to the ‘global north’ in search of greener pastures. Akshara’s friend, Subhani, who has migrated to England, explains that the term ‘Visachaya’ captures the in-between status of immigrants who are waiting for PR in a foreign country. Subhani mockingly says that they are equal to beggars who beg for visas. Subhani’s coinage and other accounts of Sri Lankan immigrants in England, the novel shows how difficult it is for an immigrant from the ‘global south’ to fight for a living in a country like England where immigrants come to resolve their financial struggles back home.
The novel is an eye-opener in many ways. First, it is an attempt to bridge the gap caused by the Sinhala-Tamil ethnic strife. It is also a cultural mosaic that captures both the joys and sorrows of Sinhala, Tamil and Burgher families in Sri Lanka. The novel also delves into mental health issues, categorically tied to marriage, a daring task even for a seasoned writer. However, Rajakarunanayake’s writing style compels the reader to adopt a more humane and empathetic approach towards individuals grappling with mental health challenges at various stages of their lives. The linguistic technique of using ‘ne’ tag at the end of sentences creates a conversational tone, making the narrative as if it is a conversation between a therapist and a patient. Her writing style also resembles that of Sri Lankan and Indian diasporic writers, a style that is used when writing about the motherland in exile, of which food becomes a critical trope in the narrative that unites the characters who live in exile.
Rajakarunanayake has done a commendable job in the representation of social issues, making this novel a must-read for anyone who is interested in researching social dynamics of contemporary Sri Lanka. It soon needs to be translated into English which will offer a unique experience to Sri Lankan English and international readers. A good book is something that affects the reader. Visachakayo has this quality, and it makes the reader revisit the past, reflect on the present and anticipate the future with hope for humanity just as Preethi does regardless of hardships he endured in the theatre of life.
By C. M. Arsakulasuriya
Features
A strategy for Mahaweli authority to meet future challenges amidst moves to close it down

The potential available in lands under Mahaweli Project, which cover about one third of farming areas of the Dry Zone, could easily help the country become self-sufficient in healthy foods, provided it is managed properly. However, at present, the main focus of the Mahaweli Authority of Sri Lanka (MASL) is mainly on Operation & Maintenance of Canal network feeding the farms. Main purpose of the Mahaweli Restructuring & Rehabilitation Project (MRRP) funded by the World Bank in 2000 was to diversify that objective to cover enhancement of agriculture aspects also. System H Irrigation Systems covering about 20,000 Hectares commanded under Kalawewa Tank located in the Anuradhapura District was used as a pilot area to initiate this effort. However, only the Canal Rehabilitation component of the MRRP was attended because of the government policy at that time. Restructuring component is still awaiting to be completed. Only, a strategy called Water Quota was introduced under the MRRP to initiate the restructuring component. However, the management restructuring required addressing the agriculture component expected under MRRP is still not attended.
Propose Strategy
Total length of the canal network which needs seasonal maintenance is about 1,000 Km in a typical large-scale irrigation project such as Kalawewa. Main role of the Resident Project Managers (RPM) appointed to manage such projects should be to enhance the food production jointly with the Farmer Organizations. Therefore, the abbreviation used for RPM should be redefined as Resident Production Manager. The role of a Production Manager is not limited to maintenance of canal networks as adapted presently. In the current production phase, Irrigation projects should be perceived as a Food Producing “Factory” – where water is the main raw material. Farmers as the owners of the factory, play the role of the labour force of the factory. The Production Manager’s focus should be to maximize food production, deviating from Rice Only Mode, to cater the market needs earning profits for the farmers who are the owners of the “factory”. Canal systems within the project area which need regular maintenance are just “Belts” conveying raw materials (water) in a Typical Factory.
Required Management Shift
In order to implement the above management concept, there is a need for a paradigm shift in managing large scale irrigation projects. In the new approach, the main purpose of managing irrigation systems is to deliver water to the farm gate at the right time in the right quantity. It is a big challenge to operate a canal network about 1000 KM long feeding about 20,000 Hectare in a typical Irrigation System such as Kalawewa.
It is also very pathetic to observe that main clients of irrigation projects (farmers providing labor force) are now dying of various diseases caused by indiscriminate use of agrochemicals. Therefore, there is a need to minimize the damages caused to the ecosystems where these food production factories are located. Therefore, the management objectives should also be focused on producing multiple types of organically grown crops, profitably without polluting the soil and groundwater aquifers causing diseases like Kidney Failures.
Proposed Management Structure
Existing management staff should either be trained or new recruitments having Production Engineering background, should be made. Water should be perceived as the most limited input, which needs to be managed profitably jointly with the farming community. Each Production Manager could be allocated a Fixed Volume of water annually, and their performance could be measured in terms of $s earned for the country per Unit Volume of water, while economically upgrading a healthy lifestyle of the farmers by using climate smart agriculture.
In addition to the government salary, the production management staff should also be compensated in the form of incentives, calculated in proportion to income generated by them from their management areas. It should be a Win-Win situation for both farmers as well as officers responsible for managing the food production factory. Operation of the Main Canal to cater flexible needs of each factory is the main responsibility of the Resident Production Manager. In other countries, the term used to measure their performance is $ earned per gallon of water to the country, without damaging the ecosystem.
Recent Efforts
Mahaweli Authority introduced some of the concepts explained in this note during 2000 to 2006, under MRRP. It was done by operating the Distributary canals feeding each block as elongated Village Tanks. It was known as the Bulk Water Allocation (BWA) strategy. Recently an attempt was made to digitize the same concept, by independently arranging funds from ICTA / World Bank. In that project, called Eazy Water, a SMS communication system was introduced, so that they can order water from the Main Reservoir by sending a SMS, when they need rather; than depend on time tables decided by authorities as normally practiced.
Though the BWA was practiced successfully until 2015, the new generation of managers did not continue it beyond 2015.
Conclusion
The recent Cabinet decision to close down the MASL should prompt the MASL officers to reactivate the BWA approach again. Farmer Organisations at the distributary canal level responsible for managing canal networks covering about 400 Hectares can be registered as farmer cooperatives. For example, there are about 50 farmer cooperatives in a typical irrigation project such as Kalawewa. This transformation should be a gradual process which would take at least two years. I am sure the World Bank would definitely fund this project during the transition period because it is a continuation of the MRRP to address the restructuring component which was not attended by them in 2000 because of government policy at that time. System H could be used as a pilot demonstration area. Guidelines introduced under the MRRP could be used as tools to manage the main canal. World Bank funded Agribusiness Value Chain Support with CSIAP (Climate Smart Irrigated Agriculture Project) under the Ministry of Agriculture which is presently in progress could also provide necessary guidelines to initiate this project.
by Eng. Mahinda Panapitiya
Engineer who worked for Mahaweli Project since its inception
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