Features
Learning English at Maris Stella College, Negombo
“I was always coming third in the class – the first was Wilfred Jayasuriya and Carlo Fonseka was second”
(Excerpted from *Leo Fernando’s Biographical sketches of a professional generalist)
It was when I was nine years old that I was enrolled in a school in Negombo called Maris Stella by my eldest brother Peter, to learn English. Up till then I was innocent of the language of our colonial masters. Maris Stella imparted a solid education. My three older brothers, Peter, Cyril and Vincent were also students about this time. As we, my cousin Oscar and I used to talk in Sinhala during the school interval we had to beware of other students who were hovering about ready to pounce on us talking in the mother tongue.
One day, during the tea interval I got caught talking in my mother tongue to Oscar while another student who had the red baton, unknown to me, was prowling around for a possible victim. No sooner I received the baton I managed to find another boy indulging in his mother tongue to whom I handed over the dreaded baton. The rule in the school was that at the end of school session the victim holding the baton has to hand it back to the principal who would give him a caning. This method of punishment had both good and bad results. Good because it forced us to learn to speak English, bad because a punishment enforced for speaking in Sinhala, the mother tongue of 90% of the students was an insult to the ethos, dignity and spirit of the
One day our class lessons terminated early and we were free to go home. I proceeded to go through the Negombo town on foot as by this time my eldest brother was no longer there to take me on his bicycle. My landmark on the road through the main street was the high dome of the Grand Street church which was visible even to little boys like me from any corner of the town. Close to the church a gentleman in shorts addressed me and said something in English which I did not understand. I dared not ask him in Sinhala what he said considering it infra dig to speak in the mother tongue.
He was probably a Burgher. He kept asking me to do something for him. Finally, I used the words we were taught that morning at school “I cannot”. He still kept talking and I kept repeating the same words “I cannot”. Fortunately, my uncle Martin Rosa appeared on the scene and saved me the embarrassing situation. That gent only wanted me to drop a letter in the post box at the Negombo Post Office. He may have been somehow aware that I was passing the PO.
When Oscar and I were seen together, other students used to ask me whether we were brothers. As I did not know the English word cousin, I would simply nod my head. So we were known as Pandikutty, the Tamil word for piglings. This was because Oscar’s surname was Panditharatne and as first cousins we probably resembled each other as it happened when we were in our forties. An engineer friend of Oscar stopped his car on the road to ask me “Aren’t you Oscar?” when I didn’t recognize him.
In the second year, the fourth standard, we were taught by Rev Bro. Nizier, the Principal of the lower school and Mr. Shirley Lawrence. At the term test Mr. Lawrence got each student to say few words in English on a subject he chose. When my turn came, he asked me to say something about the elephant. By some fluke I used the word “gigantic” about this animal. He finished my test immediately. He did not expect me as I thought afterwards to use that big word.
My performance at the year-end test was good and I was placed second in the class. Those were the fee levying times. One morning I was asked to leave school for not paying fees. However, I managed to get the monthly fee from mother and settle the dues on the day after. In the following year we were lucky as our school became a free education school.
The fifth standard class teacher, Mr. Leonard Obris somehow found out that I had a good singing voice. So, he would persuade me to sing some English songs. The best song I remember was “You are always in my heart”. There was a difficulty in the pronunciation of the Anglicized French word “rendezvous” found in this song. Many years later, probably 50 years, a classmate, Wilfred Jayasuriya, remembering the words of this song wanted me to sing it. But with the lapse of time over 50 years, I could not recollect the words in order to oblige him. I learnt these songs from my eldest brother Peter, my loku aiya who in turn had learnt them from his close University friend, Shirley Fernando of Moratuwa.
Shirley was a versatile guy. He had come first in the Island at the SSC and HSC examinations and was reading for a special degree in Physics. I had later seen him singing while playing the Hawaiian guitar when he came to our home in Pitipana with some other Varsity friends of my brother. I then thought that I could improvise a musical instrument like the guitar by salvaging an abandoned antiquated Japanese mandolin which lacked the typewriter-like keyboard and the steel strings, lying in the store room of our house.
I got the strings from a fisherman living close by and contrived to make a guitar like instrument for playing. For the “steel” that needs to be sliding along the strings in order to play the melody I used a small glass bottle. All the contraptions put together helped me play some of the Sinhala songs of Sunil Santha and also the melodies of the English songs my brother taught me.
About this time a friend of my older brother, Vincent, named Aaron Silva visited our house and saw me playing some melodies on the makeshift “guitar”. Aaron was a gifted singer and actor. In the village Sinhala school, he acted as St. Francis Xavier in a school play. Before that he acted as Andare, the court jester, in a school play written by the Principal Manamalage Gabriel Fernando. I recall the scene as to how Andare ate sugar in the King’s palace. In later life, Aaron entered the cinema world and was known as Pitipana Silva. He borrowed my guitar for a few days in order, I guessed, to learn to play it. Even after keeping it for months he did not return it.
I then told my mother about it. She had visited his home requesting him to return it. Still, he did not comply. I complained about it to my eldest brother who knew about the basic musical talents I possessed. As by this time University education was free, he had some savings with which he bought me a second-hand steel guitar, which I later came to know belonged to his friend Shirley Fernando. Along with the guitar I was given also a book showing the method of playing it along with the musical notations.
There was no one who knew the guitar notes to teach me how to play it. Peter aiya had, in fact, requested the Church organist John Master to teach me the musical notations. But he could not be of any help as he did not know to play the guitar although he knew all about playing the organ. The two signs or symbols I used to see in music books and in the books of my older brothers that fascinated me were the crotchet and the Greek letter sigma, later the integral, an elongated sigma, used in calculus.
My brother Peter invited some of his university friends to spend the night at our house in Pitipana. When our “help” Eliza had prepared dinner, she had informed Peter aiya in Sinhalese “Malli. dinner is ready.” On hearing her voice, his friends had asked as to how come that a sister had suddenly appeared in the scene when they had been told that he had no sister in the family.
I still remember how Eliza used to feed me lunch with her fingers and my protest about the hot curries which made my tongue and mouth smart unable to swallow the food. I was fond of her and called her Eliza akka as a sign of the sisterly bond I forged with her. During this period at Maris Stella College, , now in the fifth standard, I had to walk about three miles to school and another three miles back to Pitipana as Peter aiya was no longer there to take me to school on his bicycle. There was no bridge during our school days connecting the Pamunugama-Pitpana stretch of the peninsula with the Negombo town. So, we had to cross the lagoon at a point cheek by jowl to the sea in outrigger canoes.
There was no charge for the men folk unless one had to take a bicycle in the canoe when there would be a levy of 10 cents. One afternoon on the return journey across the lagoon the canoe capsized. Fortunately, we did not go down and our end of the canoe, called aniya in the language of fishermen, was near the land. I was taken ashore by a man who was already out of the water. The women returning from the Negombo market with their paraphernalia were in difficulty. They were ail saved.
I did not wear shoes to school. Those were difficult times for mother to feed the four members of the family. The coconuts from the land did not yield enough income for the boys to wear shoes or well-ironed clothes to school. I used to wash my trousers and a few shirts on Saturdays so that by Monday morning the clothes were ready for wearing.
One Monday morning the short trousers I was to wear to school were still wet due to rain the previous day. But there was one trouser available, one in two colors, partly deep brown on one side and light brown on the other which was never worn by my two older brothers. Complaining to mother was not going to help. So, I took the bold step of wearing it hoping no student in my class would notice the difference.
On the Monday I wore it no student noticed the slightly multicolored shorts. So, I happily wore it on the second day too. To my great surprise and some humiliation one student, the son of a doctor, was heard to tell the others “Look he is wearing a trouser of two colors”. I just turned away. The students did not laugh nor sneer, but out of sympathy probably, turned their attention elsewhere. Probably, I guess, they had some respect for me as I could sing English songs well and was the best at arithmetic, and was always coming third at the monthly and the two-term tests.
The first and second were Wilfred Jayasuriya and Carlo Fonseka. Wilfred was very good in English in which he later obtained a degree and a doctorate from a US university. Carlo was good in English too and would pronounce English words like the English schoolboys but was always second to Wilfred. Carlo became an Emeritus Professor of Physiology at the University. However, at the final government examination held in December, I happened to be placed first. I guessed this was due to the full marks I got for arithmetic.
There were only three subjects along with Arithmetic, namely, English and General Intelligence. Later in life, I remember hearing Dolly Parton’s song about the coat of many color she sang and nostalgically remembering those good old days of my boyhood at Maris Stella where my three older brothers had their entire education in the English medium. In the final term, there was an inter-school drama competition. Mr. Obris, the class teacher prepared those of us who could sing and were good in elocution for a Christmas play.
Our play won the first prize. Wilfred acted as mother Mary of infant Jesus while Carlo played the role of Joseph and I was the narrator, the pothay gura. Our class won a trip to Colombo when we were taken to see the zoo just before X’mas. Our music teacher, Mr. Ferdinand, taught us to sing a X’mas song which I have never heard afterwards in my life. Its melody had a X’masy flavor and the only line I remember is “we wish to bring pleasure by singing in measure ……..
(*The writer worked as a senior SLAS officer in several government departments and public corporations. He is a professional accountant who took a Master’s degree and Ph.D, while working in the SLAS)
Features
Humanitarian leadership in a time of war
There has been a rare consensus of opinion in the country that the government’s humanitarian response to the sinking of Iran’s naval ship IRIS Dena was the correct one. The support has spanned the party political spectrum and different sections of society. Social media commentary, statements by political parties and discussion in mainstream media have all largely taken the position that Sri Lanka acted in accordance with humanitarian principles and international law. In a period when public debate in Sri Lanka is often sharply divided, the sense of agreement on this issue is noteworthy and reflects positively on the ethos and culture of a society that cares for those in distress. A similar phenomenon was to be witnessed in the rallying of people of all ethnicities and backgrounds to help those affected by the Ditwah Cyclone in December last year.
The events that led to this situation unfolded with dramatic speed. In the early hours before sunrise the Dina made a distress call. The ship was one of three Iranian naval vessels that had taken part in a naval gathering organised by India in which more than 70 countries had participated, including Sri Lanka. Naval gatherings of this nature are intended to foster professional exchange, confidence building and goodwill between navies. They are also governed by strict protocols regarding armaments and conduct.
When the exhibition ended open war between the United States and Iran had not yet broken out. The three Iranian ships that participated in the exhibition left the Indian port and headed into international waters on their journey back home. Under the protocol governing such gatherings ships may not be equipped with offensive armaments. This left them particularly vulnerable once the regional situation changed dramatically, though the US Indo-Pacific Command insists the ship was armed. The sudden outbreak of war between the United States and Iran would have alerted the Iranian ships that they were sailing into danger. According to reports, they sought safe harbour and requested docking in Sri Lanka’s ports but before the Sri Lankan government could respond the Dena was fatally hit by a torpedo.
International Law
The sinking of the Dena occurred just outside Sri Lanka’s territorial waters. Whatever decision the Sri Lankan government made at this time was bound to be fraught with consequence. The war that is currently being fought in the Middle East is a no-holds-barred one in which more than 15 countries have come under attack. Now the sinking of the Dena so close to Sri Lanka’s maritime boundary has meant that the war has come to the very shores of the country. In times of war emotions run high on all sides and perceptions of friend and enemy can easily become distorted. Parties involved in the conflict tend to gravitate to the position that “those who are not with us are against us.” Such a mindset leaves little room for neutrality or humanitarian discretion.
In such situations countries that are not directly involved in the conflict may wish to remain outside it by avoiding engagement. Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath informed the international media that Sri Lanka’s response to the present crisis was rooted in humanitarian principles, international law and the United Nations. The Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) which was adopted 1982 provides the legal framework governing maritime conduct and obliges states to render assistance to persons in distress at sea. In terms of UNCLOS, countries are required to render help to anyone facing danger in maritime waters regardless of nationality or the circumstances that led to the emergency. Sri Lanka’s response to the distress call therefore reflects both humanitarianism and adherence to international law.
Within a short period of receiving the distress message from the stricken Iranian warship the Sri Lankan government sent its navy to the rescue. They rescued more than thirty Iranian sailors who had survived the attack and were struggling in the water. The rescue operation also brought to Sri Lanka the bodies of those who had perished when their ship sank. The scale of the humanitarian challenge is significant. Sri Lanka now has custody of more than eighty bodies of sailors who lost their lives in the sinking of the Dena. In addition, a second Iranian naval ship IRINS Bushehr with more than two hundred sailors has come under Sri Lanka’s protection. The government therefore finds itself responsible for survivors but also for the dignified treatment of the bodies of the dead Iranian sailors.
Sri Lanka’s decision to render aid based on humanitarian principles, not political allegiance, reinforces the importance of a rules-based international order for all countries. Reliance on international law is particularly important for small countries like Sri Lanka that lack the power to defend themselves against larger actors. For such countries a rules-based international order provides at least a measure of protection by ensuring that all states operate within a framework of agreed norms. Sri Lanka itself has played a notable role in promoting such norms. In 1971 the United Nations General Assembly adopted a resolution declaring the Indian Ocean a Zone of Peace. The initiative for this proposal came from Sri Lanka, which argued that the Indian Ocean should be protected from great power rivalry and militarisation.
Moral Beacon
Unfortunately, the current global climate suggests that the rules-based order is barely operative. Conflicts in different parts of the world have increasingly shown disregard for the norms and institutions that were created in the aftermath of the Second World War to regulate international behaviour. In such circumstances it becomes even more important for smaller countries to demonstrate their commitment to international law and to convert the bigger countries to adopt more humane and universal thinking. The humanitarian response to the Iranian sailors therefore needs to be seen in this wider context. By acting swiftly to rescue those in distress and by affirming that its actions are guided by international law, Sri Lanka has enhanced its reputation as a small country that values peace, humane values, cooperation and the rule of law. It would be a relief to the Sri Lankan government that earlier communications that the US government was urging Sri Lanka not to repatriate the Iranian sailors has been modified to the US publicly acknowledging the applicability of international law to what Sri Lanka does.
The country’s own experience of internal conflict has shaped public consciousness in important ways. Sri Lanka endured a violent internal war that lasted nearly three decades. During that period questions relating to the treatment of combatants, the protection of civilians, missing persons and accountability became central issues. As a result, Sri Lankans today are familiar with the provisions of international law that deal with war crimes, the treatment of wounded or disabled combatants and the fate of those who go missing in conflict. The country continues to host an international presence in the form of UN agencies and the ICRC that work with the government on humanitarian and post conflict issues. The government needs to apply the same principled commitment of humanitarianism and the rule of law to the unresolved issues from Sri Lanka’s own civil war, including accountability and reconciliation.
By affirming humanitarian principles and acting accordingly towards the Iranian sailors and their ship Sri Lanka has become a moral beacon for peace and goodwill in a world that often appears to be moving in the opposite direction. At a time when geopolitical rivalries are intensifying and humanitarian norms are frequently ignored, such actions carry symbolic significance. The credibility of Sri Lanka’s moral stance abroad will be further enhanced by its ability to uphold similar principles at home. Sri Lanka continues to grapple with unresolved issues arising from its own internal conflict including questions of accountability, justice, reparations and reconciliation. It has a duty not only to its own citizens, but also to suffering humanity everywhere. Addressing its own internal issues sincerely will strengthen Sri Lanka’s moral standing in the international community and help it to be a force for a new and better world.
BY Jehan Perera
Features
Language: The symbolic expression of thought
It was Henry Sweet, the English phonetician and language scholar, who said, “Language may be defined as the expression of thought by means of speech sounds“. In today’s context, where language extends beyond spoken sounds to written text, and even into signs, it is best to generalise more and express that language is the “symbolic expression of thought“. The opposite is also true: without the ability to think, there will not be a proper development of the ability to express in a language, as seen in individuals with intellectual disability.
Viewing language as the symbolic expression of thought is a philosophical way to look at early childhood education. It suggests that language is not just about learning words; it is about a child learning that one thing, be it a sound, a scribble, or a gesture, can represent something else, such as an object, a feeling, or an idea. It facilitates the ever-so-important understanding of the given occurrence rather than committing it purely to memory. In the world of a 0–5-year-old, this “symbolic leap” of understanding is the single most important cognitive milestone.
Of course, learning a language or even more than one language is absolutely crucial for education. Here is how that viewpoint fits into early life education:
1. From Concrete to Abstract
Infants live in a “concrete” world: if they cannot see it or touch it, it does not exist. Early education helps them to move toward symbolic thought. When a toddler realises that the sound “ball” stands for that round, bouncy thing in the corner, they have decoded a symbol. Teachers and parents need to facilitate this by connecting physical objects to labels constantly. This is why “Show and Tell” is a staple of early education, as it gently compels the child to use symbols, words or actions to describe a tangible object to others, who might not even see it clearly.
2. The Multi-Modal Nature of Symbols
Because language is “symbolic,” it does not matter how exactly it is expressed. The human brain treats spoken words, written text, and sign language with similar neural machinery.
Many educators advocate the use of “Baby Signs” (simple gestures) before a child can speak. This is powerful because it proves the child has the thought (e.g., “I am hungry”) and can use a symbol like putting the hand to the mouth, before their vocal cords are physically ready to produce the word denoting hunger.
Writing is the most abstract symbol of all: it is a squiggle written on a page, representing a sound, which represents an idea or a thought. Early childhood education prepares children for this by encouraging “emergent writing” (scribbling), even where a child proudly points to a messy circle that the child has drawn and says, “This says ‘I love Mommy’.”
3. Symbolic Play (The Dress Rehearsal)
As recognised in many quarters, play is where this theory comes to life. Between ages 2 and 3, children enter the Symbolic Play stage. Often, there is object substitution, as when a child picks up a banana and holds it to his or her ear like a telephone. In effect, this is a massive intellectual achievement. The child is mentally “decoupling” the object from its physical reality and assigning it a symbolic meaning. In early education, we need to encourage this because if a child can use a block as a “car,” they are developing the mental flexibility required to later understand that the letter “C” stands for the sound of “K” as well.
4. Language as a Tool for “Internal Thought”
Perhaps the most fascinating fit is the work of psychologist Lev Vygotsky, who argued that language eventually turns inward to become private speech. Have you ever seen a 4-year-old talking to himself or herself while building a toy tower? “No, the big one goes here….. the red one goes here…. steady… there.” That is a form of self-regulation. Educators encourage this “thinking out loudly.” It is the way children use the symbol system of language to organise their own thoughts and solve problems. Eventually, this speech becomes silent as “inner thought.”
Finally, there is the charming thought of the feasibility of conversing with very young children in two or even three or more languages. In Sri Lanka, the three main languages are Sinhala, Tamil and English. There are questions asked as to whether it is OK to talk to little ones in all three languages or even in two, so that they would learn?
According to scientific authorities, the short, clear and unequivocal answer to that query is that not only is it “OK”, it is also a significant cognitive gift to a child.
In a trilingual environment like Sri Lanka, many parents worry that multiple languages will “confuse” a child or cause a “speech delay.” However, modern neuroscience has debunked these myths. The infant brain is perfectly capable of building three or even more separate “lexicons” (vocabularies) simultaneously.
Here is how the “symbolic expression of thought” works in a multilingual brain and how we can manage it effectively.
a). The “Multiple Labels” Phenomenon
In a monolingual home, a child learns one symbol for an object. For example, take the word “Apple.” In a Sri Lankan trilingual home, the child learns three symbols for that same thought:
* Apple (English)
* Apal
(Sinhala – ඇපල්)
* Appil
(Tamil – ஆப்பிள்)
Because the trilingual child learns that one “thought” can be expressed by multiple “symbols,” the child’s brain becomes more flexible. This is why bilingual and trilingual children often score higher on tasks involving “executive function”, meaning the ability to switch focus and solve complex problems.
b). Is there a “Delay”?
(The Common Myth)
One might notice that a child in a trilingual home may start to speak slightly later than a monolingual peer, or they might have a smaller vocabulary in each language at age two.
However, if one adds up the total number of words they know across all three languages, they are usually ahead of monolingual children. By age five, they typically catch up in all languages and possess a much more “plastic” and adaptable brain.
c). Strategies for Success: How to Do It?
To help the child’s brain organise these three symbol systems, it helps to have some “consistency.” Here are the two most effective methods:
* One Person, One Language (OPOL), the so-called “gold standard” for multilingual families.
Amma
speaks only Sinhala, while the Father speaks only English, and the Grandparents or Nanny speak only Tamil. The child learns to associate a specific language with a specific person. Their brain creates a “map”: “When I talk to Amma, I use these sounds; when I talk to Thaththa, I use those,” etc.
*
Situational/Contextual Learning. If the parents speak all three, one could divide languages by “environment”: English at the dinner table, Sinhala during play and bath time and Tamil when visiting relatives or at the market.
These, of course, need NOT be very rigid rules, but general guidance, applied judiciously and ever-so-kindly.
d). “Code-Mixing” is Normal
We need not be alarmed if a 3-year-old says something like: “Ammi, I want that palam (fruit).” This is called Code-Mixing. It is NOT a sign of confusion; it is a sign of efficiency. The child’s brain is searching for the quickest way to express a thought and grabs the most “available” word from their three language cupboards. As they get older, perhaps around age 4 or 5, they will naturally learn to separate them perfectly.
e). The “Sri Lankan Advantage”
Growing up trilingual in Sri Lanka provides a massive social and cognitive advantage.
For a start, there will be Cultural Empathy. Language actually carries culture. A child who speaks Sinhala, Tamil, and English can navigate all social spheres of the country quite effortlessly.
In addition, there are the benefits of a Phonetic Range. Sinhala and Tamil have many sounds that do not exist in English (and even vice versa). Learning these as a child wires the ears to hear and reproduce almost any human sound, making it much easier to learn more languages (like French or Japanese) later in life.
As an abiding thought, it is the considered opinion of the author that a trilingual Sri Lanka will go a long way towards the goals and display of racial harmony, respect for different ethnic groups, and unrivalled national coordination in our beautiful Motherland. Then it would become a utopian heaven, where all people, as just Sri Lankans, can live in admirable concordant synchrony, rather than as splintered clusters divided by ethnicity, language and culture.
A Helpful Summary Checklist for Parents
* Do Not Drop a Language:
If you stop speaking Tamil because you are worried about English, the child loses that “neural real estate.” Keep all three languages going.
* High-Quality Input:
Do not just use “commands” (Eat! Sleep!). Use the Parentese and Serve and Return methods (mentioned in an earlier article) in all the languages.
* Employ Patience:
If the little one mixes up some words, just model the right words and gently correct the sentence and present it to the child like a suggestion, without scolding or finding fault with him or her. The child will then learn effortlessly and without resentment or shame.
by Dr b. J. C. Perera
MBBS(Cey), DCH(Cey), DCH(Eng), MD(Paediatrics), MRCP(UK), FRCP(Edin), FRCP(Lond), FRCPCH(UK), FSLCPaed, FCCP, Hony.
FRCPCH(UK), Hony. FCGP(SL)
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow, Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka
Features
SIMPSON’S … set to carve a distinct sonic identity
It is, indeed, encouraging to see our local artistes working on new formats, where their music is concerned.
Variety is the spice of life, they say, and I do agree, especially when it comes to music.
Blending modern synth textures, ambient layers and soulful undertones, the group SIMPSON’S is set to carve a distinct sonic identity within Sri Lanka’s contemporary music landscape.
Their vision, they say, is not simply to produce songs, but to create emotional atmospheres – experiences that elevate, energise and resonate, both locally and beyond.
This four-piece outfit came into the scene, less than two years ago, and they are already making waves with their debut single ‘Balaporottuwak’ (Hope).
The song, I’m told, marks the beginning of a new sound, and at the forefront of ‘Balaporottuwak’ is the group’s lead vocalist and guitarist, Ryo Hera, who brings a rich cultural heritage to the stage.
As a professional Kandyan Wes dancer, Ryo’s commanding presence and textured vocals bring a distinct energy to the band’s sound.
‘Balaporottuwak’

Ryo Hera: Vocals for ‘Balaporottuwak’
is more than just a debut single – it’s a declaration of intent. The band is merging tradition and modernity, power and subtlety, to create a sound that’s both authentic and innovative.
With this song, SIMPSON’S is inviting listeners to join them on an evolving musical journey, one that’s built on vision and creativity.
The recording process for ‘Balaporottuwak’ was organic and instinctive, with the band shaping the song through live studio sessions.
Dileepa Liyanage, the keyboardist and composer, is the principal sound mind behind SIMPSON’S.
With experience spanning background scores, commercial projects, cinematic themes and jingles across multiple genres, Dileepa brings structural finesse and atmospheric depth to the band’s arrangements.
He described the recording process of ‘Balaporottuwak’ as organic and instinctive: “When Ryo Hera opens his voice, it becomes effortless to shape it into any musical colour. The tone naturally adapts.”
The band’s lineup includes Buddhima Chalanu on bass, and Savidya Yasaru on drums, and, together, they create a sound that’s not just a reflection of their individual talents, but a collective vision.

Dileepa Liyanage: Brings
structural finesse and
atmospheric depth to the
band’s arrangements
What sets SIMPSON’S apart is their decision to keep the production in-house – mixing and mastering the song themselves. This allows them to maintain their unique sound and artistic autonomy.
“We work as a family and each member is given the freedom to work out his music on the instruments he handles and then, in the studio, we put everything together,” said Dileepa, adding that their goal is to release an album, made up of Sinhala and English songs.
Steering this creative core is manager Mangala Samarajeewa, whose early career included managing various international artistes. His guidance has positioned SIMPSON’S not merely as a performing unit, but as a carefully envisioned project – one aimed at expanding Sri Lanka’s contemporary music vocabulary.
SIMPSON’S are quite active in the scene here, performing, on a regular basis, at popular venues in Colombo, and down south, as well.
They are also seen, and heard, on Spotify, TikTok, Apple Music, iTunes, and Deezer.
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