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A Humane Scholar at Oxford

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Oxford University

by Jayantha Perera

I met Barbara Harrel-Bond, an anthropologist, by accident in April 1989. At that time, I was with the USAID-funded Mahaweli Agriculture and Rural Development Project (MARD). One day at lunchtime, an old jeep arrived at the project office. A white woman in her sixties emerged from the jeep. She was in a kurta and was carrying several notebooks in her hands. She smiled and asked me whether I could find someone who knew how Sinhala villagers interacted with Tamil villagers in the war-front area. I told her our professional staff had gone out for lunch, so she should wait until they returned.

With a cigarette on her lips, she introduced herself as Barbara. She was the Director of the Refugee Studies Programme (RSP) and a professor at Oxford University. She was an anthropologist with extensive field experience in Africa. Her book Imposing Aid: Emergency Assistance to Refugees was on international development aid. She was an authority in refugee studies and international refugee law. I told her I am a development anthropologist working on irrigation water management in the Mahaweli. Her eyes beamed with hope, and she shouted, “You are the man I wanted to meet!”

I invited her for lunch at my residence. I offered her a cold beer, which she gulped down in five seconds. She inquired whether it was okay to smoke inside the house. I said yes. I switched on the air conditioner in the sitting room, as it was hot and muggy. She was amused to feel the cold air and said, “It is nice to see an anthropologist who lives in an air-conditioned house in the field.” She thanked me for rescuing her from the scorching sun.

Barbara was interested in the history of rivalries between Tamils and Sinhalese. She asked me about their living conditions, income disparities, gender issues, and political orientation. I told Barbara we could discuss these issues at length if she could stay a few days at Aralaganwila. Barbara said she had planned several meetings and wanted to return to Colombo. She invited me for lunch during the weekend if I were in Colombo.

Our weekend meeting in Colombo was intellectually stimulating. Each time we discussed a new topic, she ordered more tea or beer while typing her notes into her laptop. It was a primitive machine with two cassette spools. One had the WordStar programme, and the other had her notes.

Barbara invited me to the RSP to deliver a few lectures on Sri Lanka, specifically its political structure and ethnic tensions. She told me that I could stay at her place in Oxford. After about two months, I received an invitation letter and a return air ticket from the RSP. When I reached Oxford, she told me she had sent a taxi to Heathrow Airport to bring me to Oxford. But she forgot to tell me where to meet the taxi driver.

Staying at her place in Oxford was an experience. She lived in an old house on St. Giles. I found a sleeping corner on a cosy sofa in her large living room when I arrived. She introduced me to two Ugandan refugees and an undergrad from a European University. The two Ugandans prepared the dinner. They cooked lamb in peanut gravy, and we all had that with rice and a salad.

After dinner, we all met in Barbara’s large bedroom to watch TV and discuss the day’s work and tomorrow’s programme. She lay down on her bed and listened to our discussions. She occasionally asked a question or two. That day, the TV did not work. She asked us whether one of us could check the TV. Only the young European women volunteered to check it. She said the electric plug was not correctly installed, but she quickly fixed it. Barbara laughed and teased others, saying, “I did not expect anthropologists to know how to turn on a TV.”

When I woke up the following day, Barbara had already brewed coffee. We took our cups to her library and settled into two comfortable chairs. Until 8 a.m., we discussed Sri Lanka’s socio-political conditions and the outlines of my upcoming two lectures. Barbara mentioned inviting several professors and lecturers from the law and development faculties to the lectures. She also hinted that I might join her as a research fellow shortly.

Before I left for Colombo, Barbara told me she would raise funds to recruit an anthropologist from the third world as a fellow. She explained the fellowship as teaching a two-term course at the postgraduate level on field methods in social sciences and qualitative data analysis. The fellow would also conduct an annual summer school on refugee studies. Later, she wrote, “We need someone like you who combines research and practical experience and can write well in English.”

Two months later, Barbara informed me that the RSP had raised funds for a Ford fellowship. She asked whether I would be interested in being the first Ford Fellow at the RSP. I did not answer her for two weeks as I was in a dilemma. I was happy at MARD. The Chief-of-Party was also an anthropologist with whom I shared my views on development. He was an amiable fellow. He told me I should stay with him on the project for at least five years. I had finished only 30 months of my contract. Life in the Mahaweli was comfortable, although there were two significant risks: the LTTE and wild elephants.

At that time, an official at the Mahaweli Ministry wanted more control over the project consultants. He complained to USAID I had written a paper criticising the Sri Lankan government’s agricultural policies. He tried to twist the paper’s contents to prove that I was against the MARD Project. The USAID held a formal meeting in which the DAI and the Mahaweli Development Ministry participated. The USAID and the DAI did not find any fault with my paper. However, the official was adamant that some action should be taken against me. I submitted my resignation letter to the Chief of Party. He was relieved to receive my resignation as he did not want to disagree with the government. I accepted the Ford fellowship at the RSP in Oxford. This decision filled me with a sense of accomplishment and inspiration for the future.

Barbara Harrel-Bond

Barbara introduced me to her staff on my first day at the RSP. The Administrative Officer, Belinda, brought a cake and coffee to celebrate my arrival. Soon after coffee, Barbara took about 10 portrait photographs of me at the entrance to the RSP. When I asked her why she took so many photos, she smiled and said that a good photographer should take a dozen photographs before selecting the best one. Barbara had written an editorial about me for the RSP Newsletter and included my photograph. Barbara took me to the Bodleian Library and introduced me to the librarian by saying: “This is Dr Perera, an anthropologist from Sri Lanka, our Ford Fellow for the next 18 months. Unfortunately, he got his doctorate from the radical Sussex University. But I assure you he would behave well and surely not set fire to the library.”

Among the few library rules was the hilarious one that says ‘not setting fire to the library’ in the application form. Barbara got my library membership and showed me its various sections. She then took me to Oxfam Bookshop, where one could buy second-hand books for a fraction of their original prices. Barbara bought most of her books from the Oxfam Bookshop. She said I could borrow any book from her personal library at home.

Barbara invited me to her house whenever she had leisure time, especially on weekends. We discussed family histories, reasons for studying anthropology, and my plans. Barbara said that she grew up as the only daughter of a postman in a remote part of South Dakota, USA. As a young woman, she loved horse riding in the Dakota plains. She married an American pastor in 1951 and accompanied him to Oxford in the mid-1960s. Her husband studied for a doctorate and returned to the USA without completing his studies. Barbara refused to return with him to the USA and stayed in Oxford.

She joined the Institute of Social Anthropology, where she earned a doctorate in Social Anthropology. Barbara called herself a legal anthropologist. She divorced her husband and married Samuel Okeke, a Nigerian engineer, in 1974 while doing fieldwork in Sierra Leone in West Africa. Barbara left him and returned to Oxford to devote her time to refugees. In 1982, she established the RSP at Oxford University.

Barbara worked with many people in her smoke-filled room at the RSP. She listened intently to each speaker. If she had any questions, she would probe them. The discussions prolonged until all agreed on a solution or conclusion. She found time between such meetings, sometimes as little as 15 minutes, to open her unfinished memos and articles to work on them. She gave me her draft memos and papers to comment on. Every month, she received several international journal articles for review. She, with a naughty smile on her face, just palmed them off to me to review. She read and edited each of my draft reviews. Barbara then scanned and emailed it to the concerned journal or the publisher. I remember examining about 10 journal articles.

I prepared detailed notes for each lecture on the field methods course. I distributed them in advance among my students from the Oxford Department of International Development and the Royal Forestry Institute. Barbara read them with interest and encouraged me to include my field experience to substantiate and illuminate my arguments. Sometimes, she attended my classes and initiated lively discussions. Barbara told me that it had been the tradition that the teacher who finishes his/her lecture at 5 p.m. or after should take the students for a beer at a nearby pub. Barbara introduced me to the staff of a large pub. At the bar, I asked her, “Is this the pub where anthropologists meet?” She said, “No, this is a pub where some anthropologists meet.”

She explained that anthropologists were a peculiar and dangerous tribe; one could see many feuds and resentment among them. She said a few of them believed anthropologists should live in primitive societies. She added, “But they smoke pipes and drink whiskey whenever an opportunity arises. They are known for carrying pocket whiskey flasks.” She told me that some of them ridiculed and criticised her for doing refugee studies, which they thought was a field of study in political science.

Barbara was a leader of a local group in Oxford that pressed local authorities to approve an “illegal” structure a sculptor had built in 1986 on a rooftop — a 25-foot colourful fibreglass shark that looked as if it had fallen from the sky and penetrated the roof. The fall symbolised the anger, desperation, and impotence of local people in the wake of the bombing of Libya by American warplanes, which regularly flew over Oxford.

The sculptor also wanted to make a statement against nuclear weapons. The falling shark was a metaphor for a falling atomic bomb. She petitioned local authorities, demanding freedom to protest the state’s follies. Barbara wrote to the House of Commons and House of Lords demanding that the state protect its citizens’ freedom of expression. She emphasised that the state should not encourage aggressors and bullies, such as Americans, to use the UK’s airspace to harm others.

Once Barbara returned from London with four young men and a young woman. They were refugees from Africa who just landed in London. The International Red Cross had received them and handed them over to Barbara to educate and find sources of income for them. She introduced them to the RSP staff, saying they were members of the RSP family. Barbara asked me to meet her at her residence at 6 p.m. on the same day. She wanted to discuss how to accommodate five refugees.

Barbara had a few folded bed frames. She opened a small storeroom in the basement and took out bedding and pillows. The four men and the woman helped her to make temporary beds. Barbara invited the woman to sleep in her bedroom. I asked Barbara about their dinner. She told me, “Let us cook rice and a meat curry. I know you are a good cook.” I cooked rice and beef curry with carrots and made a large salad. Barbara joined the group for dinner. She said, “Today is one of my happiest days. I have you five with me. We can do lots of things together. A refugee is not a burden but an asset, and that is what I always tell the world.”

Barbara enrolled the five refugees at the university as part-time students. She found work for them as an unskilled waiters at a restaurant. Three months later, I visited the restaurant with Barbara to see the four men. They served us tea with dignity, style, and happy faces. Barbara had sent the woman of the group to a fashion house to learn how to make fancy clothes. Once, the woman brought a beautiful long dress for Barbara. At the bottom of the dress was a slogan – ‘Do not mess up with Arizona!’ Barbara loved this dress. One day, Barbara showed me one of the men holding hands with a white woman on the road. Barbara was happy to see them and said, “They have gone native!”

Barbara nominated me to represent the RSP at the American Anthropological Association’s annual meetings in New Orleans. At the meetings, I introduced RSP publications and research and action plans. I discussed with agencies the possibility of getting support for refugee studies and summer refugee training programmes. Two months later, Barbara asked me to go to New Delhi, India, to represent the RSP at the international refugee studies conference. My main task at the meeting was identifying potential research and study fellows and encouraging them to visit the RSP. I read a research article at the conference on ‘social structure and political development in Sri Lanka.’ Later, the Journal of Refugee Studies at Oxford published it.

The most challenging task at the RSP was coordinating its summer refugee studies programme. About 20 participants came from several countries, and their demands varied widely. Some reported that English food could have been better in quality and taste. Many were more interested in visiting university colleges and nearby towns than attending the courses. Barbara’s idea was that if at least a few participants learned about refugee issues and were determined to support them, the world would become a better place for all of us.

A friend at the RSP told me that Barbara was absent-minded. A story circulating at the RSP was Barbara had three cats, and one of them had three kittens. The mother cat kept her babies in the washing machine’s drum. One day, without checking, Barbara threw a few pieces of her clothes into the drum, started the machine, and went away. When she returned home, she opened the washing machine to see the tragedy she had caused. Three kittens were beyond recognition, and their fur and flesh clung to her clothes!

By the end of my stay in Oxford, Barbara frantically looked for more funds to keep me at the RSP. Belinda took me to London and Cambridge for interviews with various sponsors. At that time, a development consultancy company called ITAD UK contacted me regarding a senior position in a World Bank-funded project in Sindh, Pakistan. I told Barbara about the new opening. She was happy to hear the news and advised me to take the job. She wanted me to do fieldwork and write about internal displacement in Pakistan. She also sent a recommendation letter to the ITAD saying that whoever gets my services should consider themselves fortunate.

Barbara was bestowed the Order of British Empire (OBE) in 2005 for refugee and forced migration studies and services. She died in 2018 at the age of 85 years. Tributes and obituaries poured in from around the world. In tributes and obituaries, I saw the words ‘campaigner’, ‘activist,’ and ‘champion. ‘An obituary aptly summarised her life – “She grew up riding horses across the plains. Something of the Wild West never left her.”



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Features

The Ramadan War

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Benjamin Netanyahu, Donald Trump and Mojtaba Khamenei

A Strategic Assessment of a Conflict Still Unresolved

The Unites States of America and its ally, Israel attacked Iran on 28 February, or the 10th day of the month of Ramadan. More than a month of intense fighting has passed since, and the Ramadan War has settled into a grinding, attritional struggle that defies early declarations of victory. Despite sustained U.S. and Israeli air and naval bombardment, Iran remains standing, and continues to strike back with a level of resilience that has surprised many observers. The conflict has evolved into a contest of endurance, adaptation, and strategic innovation, with each side attempting to impose costs the other cannot bear.

Iran’s response to the overwhelming airpower of its adversaries has been both simple and devastatingly effective: saturate enemy defences with swarms of inexpensive drones and older ballistic missiles, forcing them to expend costly interceptors and reveal radar positions, and then follow up with salvos of its most advanced precisionguided missiles. This layered approach has inflicted severe physical damage on Israel and has shaken its national morale. The country has endured repeated missile barrages from Iran and rocket fire from Hezbollah, straining its airdefence network and pushing its civilian population to the limits of endurance.

The United States, meanwhile, has been forced to evacuate or reduce operations at several bases in the Gulf region due to persistent Iranian drone and missile attacks. For both the U.S. and Israel, the war has become a test of strategic credibility. For Iran, by contrast, victory is defined not by territorial gains or decisive battlefield outcomes, but by survival, and by continuing to impose costs on its adversaries.

The central strategic objective for the U.S. has now crystallised: reopening the Strait of Hormuz to secure global energy flows. Ironically, the Strait was open before the war began; it is the conflict itself that has rendered it effectively closed. Air and naval power alone cannot achieve this objective. The geography of the Strait, combined with Iran’s layered defences, means that any lasting solution will require ground forces, a reality that carries enormous risks.

U.S. Strategic Options

The United States faces five broad operational options, each with significant drawbacks.

1. Seizing Kharg Island

Kharg Island handles roughly 90% of Iran’s oil exports, making it an attractive target. However, it lies only a short distance from the Iranian mainland, where entrenched Iranian forces maintain dense networks of missile batteries, drones, artillery, and coastal defences. Any attempt to seize Kharg would require first neutralising or capturing the adjacent coastline, a costly amphibious and ground operation.

Even if successful, this would not reopen the Strait of Hormuz. It would merely deprive Iran of export capacity, which is not the primary U.S. objective. At least ostensibly not; there are those who argue that the U.S. simply wants to take over Iran’s petroleum (see below).

2. Forcing the Strait of Hormuz by Naval Power

Sending U.S. naval forces directly through the Strait is theoretically possible but operationally hazardous. Iran has mined all but a narrow channel hugging its own shoreline. That channel is covered by overlapping fields of antiship missiles, drones, artillery, and coastal radar. Clearing the mines would require prolonged operations under fire. Attempting to push through without clearing them would risk catastrophic losses.

3. Capturing Qeshm, Hengam, Larak, and Hormuz Islands

These islands dominate the Iranian side of the Strait and host radar, missile, and drone installations. Capturing them would degrade Iran’s ability to close the Strait, but the islands are heavily fortified, and the surrounding waters are mined. Amphibious assaults against defended islands are among the most difficult military operations. Even success would not guarantee the Strait’s longterm security unless the mainland launch sites were also neutralised.

4. Invading Southern Iraq and Crossing into Khuzestan

This option would involve U.S. forces advancing through southern Iraq, crossing the Shatt alArab waterway, and pushing into Iran’s Khuzestan province — home to most of Iran’s oilfields. The terrain is difficult: marshes, waterways, and narrow approaches. Iranian forces occupy the high ground overlooking the plains.

While this route would allow Saudi armoured forces to participate, it would also expose U.S. and allied logistics to attacks by Iraqi Shia militias, who have already demonstrated their willingness to target U.S. assets. The political and operational risks are immense.

5. Capturing Chabahar and Advancing Along the Coast

The most strategically promising — though still costly — option is seizing the port of Chabahar in southeastern Iran and advancing roughly 660 kilometres along the coast toward Bandar Abbas. This approach offers several advantages:

· Distance from Iran’s core population centres complicates Iranian logistics.

· Chabahar’s deepwater port (16m draught)

would provide a valuable logistics hub.

· U.S. carriers could remain at safer standoff distances

, supporting operations without entering the Strait.

· The coastal route allows naval gunfire and missile support

to assist advancing ground forces.

· Local Baluchi insurgents

could provide intelligence and limited support.

· Capturing Bandar Abbas would

outflank Iran’s island defences and effectively reopen the Strait.

This option is likely to form the backbone of any U.S. ground campaign, potentially supplemented by diversionary attacks by regional partners to stretch Iranian defences.

The Limits of U.S. Superiority

The United States retains overwhelming superiority in naval power and manned airpower. But whether this advantage translates into dominance in unmanned systems or ground combat is far from certain.

The 2003 invasion of Iraq is often cited as a model of U.S. military prowess, but the comparison is misleading. Iraq in 2003 had been crippled by a decade of sanctions. Its forces lacked modern mines, antitank missiles, and effective air defences. Tank crews had little training; some could not hit targets at pointblank range. RPG teams were similarly unprepared. The U.S. enjoyed numerical superiority in the theatre and total control of the air, allowing it to isolate Iraqi units and prevent reinforcement.

Even under those favourable conditions, Iraqi forces managed to delay the U.S. advance. At one point, forward U.S. units nearly ran out of ammunition and supplies, forcing the diversion of forces intended for the assault on Baghdad to secure the lines of communication.

Iran is not Iraq in 2003. Its armed forces and industrial base have adapted to nearly half a century of sanctions. It produces its own drones, missiles, artillery, and armoured vehicles. It has built extensive underground facilities, hardened command posts, and redundant communication networks.

Moreover, the battlefield itself has changed. The RussoUkrainian war demonstrated that deep armoured penetrations – once the hallmark of U.S. doctrine – are now extremely vulnerable to drones, loitering munitions, and precision artillery. The result has been a return to attritional warfare reminiscent of the First World War, with front lines stabilising into trench networks.

Yet, as in the First World War, stalemate has been broken not by massed assaults but by small, highly trained teams infiltrating thinly held lines, identifying targets, and guiding drones and artillery onto enemy positions deep in the rear. Iran has studied these lessons closely.

Mosaic Defence and Transformational Warfare

Iran’s military doctrine has evolved significantly over the past two decades. Its “mosaic defence” decentralises command and control, ensuring that even if senior leadership is targeted, local units can continue operating autonomously. This structure proved resilient during the initial waves of U.S. and Israeli strikes.

Iran has also absorbed lessons from U.S. “shock and awe” operations. The botched U.S. invasion of Grenada in 1983 exposed weaknesses in joint operations, prompting the development of “effectsbased operations,” “rapid dominance” and the broader concept of “transformational warfare.” These doctrines (better known colloquially as “Shock and Awe”), influenced by Liddell Hart and Sun Tzu, emphasised simultaneous strikes on strategic targets to paralyse the enemy’s decisionmaking.

While the U.S. struggled to apply these concepts effectively in Iraq and Iran, Tehran has adapted them for asymmetric use. Its drone and missile campaigns have targeted not only military assets but also economic infrastructure and psychological resilience. Israel’s economy and morale have been severely tested, and the United States finds itself entangled in a conflict that offers no easy exit.

Iran has also pursued a broader strategic objective: undermining the petrodollar system that underpins U.S. financial dominance. By disrupting energy flows and encouraging alternative trading mechanisms, Iran seeks to weaken the economic foundations of U.S. power.

Will the USA Achieve Its War Aims?

The United States’ core objective appears to be securing control over global energy flows by reopening the Strait of Hormuz and limiting China’s access to Middle Eastern oil before it can transition to alternative energy sources. Whether this objective is achievable remains uncertain.

A ground campaign would be long, costly, and politically fraught. Iran’s defences are deep, layered, and adaptive. Its drone and missile capabilities have already demonstrated their ability to impose significant costs on technologically superior adversaries. Regional allies are cautious, and global support for a prolonged conflict is limited.

The United States retains overwhelming military power, but power alone does not guarantee strategic success. Iran’s strategy is simple: survive, adapt, and continue imposing costs. In asymmetric conflicts, survival itself can constitute victory.

In Frank Herbert’s Dune, the protagonist, Paul Muad’dib says “he who can destroy a thing, controls a thing.” This is the essence of Iranian strategy – they have a stranglehold on petroleum supply, and can destroy the world economy. Trump has had to loosen sanctions on both Iran’s and Russia’s oil, simply to prevent economic collapse.

The Ramadan War has already reshaped regional dynamics. Whether it reshapes global power structures will depend on how the next phase unfolds, and whether the United States is willing to pay the price required to achieve its aims.

by Vinod Moonesinghe

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Nayanandaya:A literary autopsy of Sri Lanka’s Middle Class

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“Nayanandaya,” meaning the enchantment of indebtedness, is Surath de Mel’s latest novel. True to his reputation as a maximalist writer, de Mel traverses the labyrinth of middle-class struggles; poverty, unemployment, the quest for education, through a father’s fragile dreams. The novel unfolds around Mahela, his son, his friendships, and the fragile relationships that keep him tethered to life.

“Happiness is not a destination; it is a journey. There are no shortcuts to it. At some point, the path you thought was right will be wrong. You have to make sacrifices for it.”

These words, uttered by the protagonist Mahela to his ten-year-old son, is the silent mantra of every middle-class parent. A common urban middle-class father’s yearning for his child to climb the ladder he himself could not ascend.

A Socio-Political Mirror

Sri Lanka’s middle class remains trapped in paradox. They are educated but underemployed, salaried but indebted, socially respected yet politically invisible. Structural inequalities, economic volatility and populist politics inclusively contribute to keep them “forever middle”.

Through protagonist Mahela, who is sometimes a graphic designer, sometimes a vendor and always a failure Surath de Mel sketches the deficiencies of an education system that does not nurture skills of the students. Sri Lanka boasts about high literacy rates, yet the economy cannot absorb the thousands of graduates produced into meaningful work. Underemployment becomes the inheritance of the middle class. With political connections often the stories can be transformed. De Mel pens it in dark humour to expose these truths:

“Some notorious writer once sneered in a newspaper, ‘Give your ass to the minister, and you’ll earn the right to keep it on a bigger chair.’ Countless people waiting in ministers’ offices, pressing

their backsides to seats, carrying the weight of their own lives.”

Childhood Trauma and Its Echoes

Surath de Mel frequently weaves psychoanalysis into his fiction. In Nayanandaya, he captures the lingering shadows of childhood trauma. Mahela, scarred by a loveless and fractured youth, suffers phobic anxiety and depression, apparently with a personality disorder as an adult. His confession at the psychologist reveals it out:

“Childhood? I didn’t have one. I was fifteen when I was born.”

Here, Mahela marks his true birth not at infancy, but at the death of his parents. This statement itself reveals the childhood trauma the protagonist had gone through and the reader can attribute his subsequent psychological struggles as the cause of it.

Surath de Mel

From a Lacanian perspective, trauma is not just something that happens to a child; it is a deep break in how the child understands the world, themselves, and others. Some experiences are too painful to be put into words. Lacan calls this the Real — what cannot be fully spoken or explained. This pain does not disappear but returns later in life as anxiety, fear, or obsessive compulsive disorder.

This trauma disturbs the child’s sense of self and their place in society. When language fails to make sense of loss, the mind creates fantasies to survive. These fantasies quietly shape adult desires, relationships, and choices.

In Nayanandaya, childhood trauma of the protagonist does not stay buried — it lives on, shaping the adulthood in unseen ways. In the narrative, Mahela’s struggles are not just personal failures but the result of a past that was never given words.

Tears of Fathers – Forgotten in Sri Lankan Literature

Sri Lankan literature has long been attentive to suffering — especially rural poverty, social injustice, and the silent endurance of women and single mothers. Countless novels, poems, and songs have given voice to maternal sacrifice, female resilience, and women’s oppression.

Yet, within this rich narratives, the quiet grief of the urban middle-class father remains mostly unseen. Rarely does fiction pause to examine the emotional lives of men who shoulder responsibility without language for their pain. These masculine tears are private, swallowed by routinely and masked by humour or silence. Definitely never granted literary space.

In Nayanandaya, Surath de Mel breaks this silence. Through Mahela, he lends voice to these overlooked men — fathers whose love is expressed through sacrifice rather than speech. However, de Mel does not romanticise the tears. Rather he humanises them. He allows their vulnerabilities, anxieties, and quiet despair to surface with honesty and compassion. In doing so, Nayanandaya fills a striking gap in Sri Lankan literature, reminding us that fathers, too, carry invisible wounds.

Literary value

With Nayanandaya, Surath de Mel reaches a new pinnacle in his literary craft. His language is dense yet lyrical, enriched with similes, metaphors, irony, and a full range of literary tools deployed with confidence and control.

One of the novel’s most touching narrative choices is the personification of Mahela’s son’s soft toy, Wonie. Through personified Wonie, de Mel captures the two most touching incidents in the entire novel . This simply reveals the author’s artistic maturity, transforming a simple object into a powerful emotional conduit that anchors the novel’s tenderness amidst its despair.

At a deeper symbolic level, Mahela himself can be read as more than an individual character, but a metaphor for Sri Lanka — a nation struggling under economic hardship, clinging to impractical dreams, witnessing the migration of its people, and drifting towards a slow, painful exhaustion. His personal failures could mirror the broader decay of social and economic structures. This symbolic reading lends Nayanandaya a haunting national resonance.

Today, many write and many publish, but only a few transform language into literature that lingers in the reader’s mind long after the final page. Surath de Mel belongs to that rare few. In a literary landscape crowded with voices, he remains devoted to art rather than popularity or trend. As a scholar of Sinhala language and literature, de Mel writes with intellectual depth, dark humour, and deep human empathy.

In conclusion, Nayanandaya is not merely a story; it is social commentary, psychoanalytic reflection, and tragic poetry woven into richly textured prose. With this novel — a masterful interlacing of love, debt, and fragile dreams — Surath de Mel engraves a distinctly Dostoevskian signature into Sinhala literature.

Reviewed by Dr. Charuni Kohombange

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Features

Domestic Energy Saving

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Around 40 percent of the annual energy we use is consumed in domestic activities. Energy is costly, and supply is not unlimited. Unfortunately, we realize the importance of energy – saving only during the time of a crisis.

If you adopt readily affordable energy-saving strategies, you will cut down your living expenditure substantially, relieving the energy burden of the nation. Here are some tips.

Cooking:

Cooking consumes a good portion of domestic energy demand and common practices, and negligence leads to 30 – 40 percent wastage. A simple experiment revealed that the energy expenditure in boiling an egg with the usual unnecessary excess water in an open pan is nearly 50 percent higher than boiling in a closed lid pan with the minimal amount of water. In an open pan, a large quantity of heat is lost via convection currents and expulsion of water vapor, carrying excessive amounts of heat energy (latent heat of vaporisation). Still, most of us boil potatoes for prolonged intervals of time in open receptacles, failing to realise that it is faster and more efficient to boil potatoes or any other food material in a closed pan. About 30 – 40 percent of domestic cooking energy requirements can be cut down by cooking in closed-lid pans. Furthermore, food cooked in closed pans is healthier because of less mixing with air that causes food oxidation. Fat oxidation generates toxic substances. In a closed- lid utensil (not tightly closed), food is covered with a blanket of water vapor at a positive pressure, preventing entry of air and therefore food oxidation.

Overcooking is another bad habit that not only wastes energy but also degrades the nutritional value of food.

Electric kettle:

For making morning or evening tea or preparing tea to serve a visitor. Do not pour an unnecessarily large quantity of water into the electric kettle. Note that the energy needed to make 10 cups of tea is ten times that of one cup.

Electric Ovens:

Avoid the use of electric ovens as far as possible. Remember that foods cooked at higher temperatures are generally unhealthy, and even carcinogens are formed when food is fried at higher temperatures in an oven. If ever you need to bake something in an oven, limit the number of times you open the door. Use smaller ovens adequate for the purpose and not larger ones just for fashion.

Refrigerators:

Refrigerators consume lots of energy. Do not use over-capacity refrigerators just for fashion. Every time you open the fridge, more electricity is used to reset the cooling temperature. Plan your access to the appliance accordingly. Check whether the doors are properly secured and there are no leakages. Keep the fridge in a cooler location, not hit by direct sunlight and away from warmer places in the kitchen. Remember that turning off the fridge frequently will not save energy, instead it draws more energy.

Use of gas burners:

Do not use oversized utensils. Keep the lid closed as far as possible to prevent the escape of heat. Remember that excessive amounts of heat energy are carried away by a large surface-area conducting utensil. Do not open the gas vent to allow the flame to flash outside the vessel. A flame not impinging on the pan would not heat it, and gas is wasted. Ensure that the flame is blue. Frequently check whether gas vents are clogged with rust and carbon. Frequently, cooking material in the pan drops into the gas vents, and salt there corrodes the gas vents. Cleaning and washing would be necessary. Do not prolong cooking, taking time to prepare ingredients and adding them to the pan intermittently. Add ingredients at once and before switching the burner. If the preparation of a dish is prolonged to slow the cooking, use earthenware pots rather than metallic ones. An earthenware pot, being thermally less conducting retain heat.

Firewood for cooking:

Do not attempt to eliminate the use of firewood in cooking. If you are living in a village area, the exclusive use of LPG gas is an unnecessary expenditure. Large smoke-free, efficient oven designs are now available. If you are compelled to use gas, keep the option of firewood ovens, especially for prolonged cooking. Admittedly, there are locations, especially in cities, where the use of firewood is unsuited.

Hot water showers:

Before installing hot water showers, reconsider whether they are really necessary in a hot tropical climate. Go for solar water heaters, although the installation cost is high. Instant water heaters consume much less electricity compared to geysers with water tanks. Now, cheap and safe instant water heaters are available.

Lighting:

Arrange and design your residence to optimise daytime illumination until late evening. If you are constructing a new house, take this issue into account. Use LED lamps, which provide the same illumination for 85 percent less energy. In study rooms and areas that require prolonged illumination, paint the walls white. Angle – poised LED lamps with very low voltage are available. Use them for reading and studies. Routinely clean the surfaces of all lamps. Dust deposition cuts off light.

Air conditioning and ventilation:

Air conditioning consumes prohibitively large quantities of electrical energy. You can avoid air conditioning by optimising ventilation. The principle is to have air entry points (windows) in the house near the ground level and exit points (vents or windows) near the roof. Ground level is cooler, and the region near the roof is warmer. Thus, a cool air current enters the house near the ground level and hot air is drawn by the vents near the roof. The region near the ground can be rendered cooler by planting trees. Architectural designs are available to optimise this effect. You can sense the direction of air motion by holding a thin strip of paper near the windows at the ground and near the roof level. In addition to ceiling fan, install exhaust fans in the upper points of the house to remove hot air and draw cooler air through windows near the ground. Reduce the amount of sunlight hitting the roof by shading with trees. There are techniques for increasing the reflectance of the roof with paints and other designs.

Transportation:

A good portion of your budget is drained by transportation. Irrespective of who you are, use public transport if convenient and available. As much as possible, use the telephone and email to get your things done. If the officers do not comply for no valid reason, complain. Plan your trips to the town to do several things at the same time. Whenever possible, plan to share transport. Buy energy – efficient small vehicles. Routinely examine your vehicle for energy efficiency, i.e. correct tire pressure etc.

Charge electric vehicles off peak hours. Slow charging reduces heat generation in the circuit, reducing energy loss.

Energy is costly and limited in supply. Everything you do consumes energy. Be energy conscious in all your deeds. That attitude will reduce your expenditure, lessen the environmental degradation and financial burden of the nation in importing fuel.

Educating the general public is the most effective way of implementing energy-saving strategies.

By Prof. Kirthi Tennakone
(kenna@yahoo.co.uk)

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