Features
A Look Back on Djokovic’s French Open
by Vijaya Chandrasoma
I watched the final of the French Open a couple of Sundays ago, and was enthralled to see current World No. 1 Novak Djokovic beat the gallant Dane, Caspar Ruud, runner-up at this event last year, in straight sets to claim his 23rd Major title, a record which now can only be broken by himself.
In an era where we have been lucky to enjoy the effortless grace of Federer and the indefatigable courage of Nadal, the consummate superiority of a complete tennis player was on display at Roland Garros.
Perhaps he – and no one – will excel the grace and charm of Federer’s game. Perhaps no one will ever parallel the sportsmanship of Stefan Edberg, the Swede who won six Grand Slam men’s singles, two each of Wimbledon, Australian and US Open titles, in the 1980s and 90s. Being a quintessential serve and volley player, the red clay of Roland Garros did not suit his type of game.
It’s entirely possible that Carlos Alcaraz, who was beaten by Djokovic in the semi-finals, will fulfill the incredible talent he has already shown and break all records, one day in the future.
Much has been made of the long bathroom break Djokovic took after the second set of the semi-final, when Carlito was showing signs of distress caused by cramp. A break that many implied that Djokovic used as a means to further upset the rhythm of an injured man. Be that as it may, physical condition is an essential part of the game, so surely a 20-year-old should not be suffering from cramps after two hard sets, when a 36-year-old looked supremely fit to continue.
As Djokovic himself said, “I don’t want to say I am the greatest….because I feel it is disrespectful towards all the great champions in different eras of our sport that was played in a completely different way than it is played today. So I feel each great champion of his own generation has left a huge mark, a legacy, and paved the way for us to be able to play this sport in such a great stage worldwide”.
A statement of grace and humility, from a man for whom the best may well be yet to come. As lead coach Goran Ivanisevic, himself a Wimbledon Champion in the 1990s, said: “Novak has in his body has many more slams”.
His main rival, Carlos Alcaraz, the World’s No.1 till Djokovic beat him in a semi-final marred by injury, was magnanimous in his defeat:
“Many people want to create controversy about Novak’s bathroom break. But no, I don’t believe it influenced anything. The physical demands Novak placed on me (in the first two sets) had an impact. Ultimately, I couldn’t hold on physically. And I don’t blame him for closing the match.
“It’s not easy to play against Novak, you know. Of course a legend in our sport. If someone says that he gets into the court with no nerves playing against Novak, he lies”.
For me, for now, Novak Djokovic reigns supreme, the world’s complete tennis player. Until Wimbledon in a couple of weeks.
I have been following tennis since the 1950s, the days of Pancho Gonzales and Frank Sedgman, great players who were not able to compete in the Grand Slam events because they were professionals, ordinary human beings who had to earn a living, usually by coaching and exhibition matches. I had the great good fortune to attend such an exhibition match in 1959 at the Wembley Stadium in London, when Segura and Sedgman played Gonzales and Trabert. I was dazzled by their wonderful tennis, although they were mainly kidding around. I still remember Pancho Segura placing a half-crown coin where the center service line meets the service line(I hope I’ve got that right), and Pancho Gonzales, who had a wonderful serve, sent the coin flying every time.
In those days, no prize money was awarded for the qualified amateurs, who were reimbursed for their travel expenses only.
The tennis scene has changed beyond recognition since the advent of the Open Era in 1968, when all players, amateur and professional, were allowed to play in the four Grand Slam events, Wimbledon, the US Open, Roland Garros and Australia.
The prize money for these Grand Slam events has now reached staggering levels. When Rod Laver beat Tony Roche to win the first Open Wimbledon title in 1968, he was paid a mere 2,000 pounds sterling, which in today’s US dollars amount to approximately $25,000.
The total French Open prize money in 2023 was 43.9 million Euros (US$47 million), with the winners of the men’s and women’s singles titles, Novak Djokovic and Iga Swiatek, taking home princely purses of 2.3 million Euros (US$ 2.46 million) each. Even a first-round loser was paid 69,000 Euros (US$ 74,000).
In the late 1950s, I was a student in London. I never saw the French Open live, but was a regular at Wimbledon, originally and grandly named the All-England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club. The total cost of a day at Wimbledon during the tournament – travel to Wimbledon by tube, a ticket to watch the tennis in many courts, with a British snack best described as substantial but tasteless, cost under a couple of pounds – Rs. 30, well within the budget of Ceylonese students in London. We were allowed a lavish monthly allowance of 45 pounds – Rs. 650 – by the Exchange Controller, an amount more than sufficient for us to lead most comfortable lives in England.
The only match at Wimbledon I remember to this day is one in which Nicola Pietrangeli of Italy and India’s Ramanathan Krishnan, both touch players, were pitted against each other in one of the early rounds in the late 1950s. Wonderful tennis of elegance and nuance, touch shots and finesse I enjoyed at courtside, a match forever etched in my mind. I cannot remember who won, which is hardly surprising, as, using the modern technology of today, I learnt that these two wonderful players had never competed against each other at Wimbledon.
Which goes to prove the old adage: the older we are, the better we – and our memories – were! Ah, how well-timed were our cover drives, how accurate our backhand volleys, how much prettier were the girls who reluctantly agreed to date us. Selective amnesia is a wonderful feature of one’s memory.
At school, I was an above-average tennis player, who, with an exceptionally talented partner, won the junior doubles title for Royal at the Public Schools Championships in 1956. I was a member of the tennis team at Christ Church, during my brief career at Oxford. We played against many colleges in Oxford and Cambridge, but the only match I remember was the Christ Church encounter against the OULTC (Oxford University Ladies Tennis Club). We were thrashed by some very fine lady players, but more than compensated in making new and attractive friends.
On my return from England, I continued playing club tennis on a regular basis, most often at the then exclusive, mainly white, Queen’s Club where, in those bad old days, natives had to be “invited” to join. Inevitably, I incurred the wrath of my paradoxically proud Ceylonese though Anglophile father, by accepting this invitation. I participated in many of the Club’s tennis tournaments, the highlight being a win in the Club Men’s Singles final, where I beat an Englishman, a Cambridge Blue, no less.
National Champion at the time, P.S. Kumara, also a club member, swears that I had begged of him not to enter the aforementioned event. This was an extremely insignificant title in his eyes, and being an old friend, he complied with my plea. But he went on to spread a scurrilous rumor that not only had I persuaded him not to participate, but, in my capacity as tennis convenor of the Club, I had “nobbled” the draw to ease my path to the final. Again, due perhaps to the above-mentioned selective amnesia, I remember only my win, and nothing of my friend Kum’s concocted calumny.
I also loved to travel to the “outstation” clubs, like Bandarawela, Talawakelle, Dixon’s Corner and so many others, where the members, mainly planters (and more likely, their most attractive wives), organized wonderful weekend tennis tournaments. The hospitality of our hosts was boundless, the dances they organized on the Saturdays of the tournament, entirely on British lines, beyond enjoyable. I well remember such an event in Udapusselawa, where, after the dance ended around 5 a.m., our planter host treated us to a breakfast of kippers and onions at his home, a meal I hadn’t enjoyed since my student days in London. After which, as I had qualified to play the later rounds, I was expected back at the club courts at 10.m., seriously hung over and miserable. But the hair of the dog* usually did the trick.
My greatest achievement in tennis was at Ratnapura. The late Bernard Pinto, also a National Tennis Champion in his day, paid me the honor of inviting me to play the men’s doubles with him at the club tournament in his hometown. Thanks to Bernard’s consummate skills (he instructed me to retreat into the sidelines after I served and hopefully returned serve), and leave the rest to him. We (really Bernard alone, for the most part) won the final with ease, but I had the last laugh when I persuaded the announcer at the awards ceremony to call the results thus: “Chandrasoma and partner win the men’s doubles 6/2, 6/2.”
I will try to make up for indulging myself writing about a sport I love (rather than my regular rants about the man I loathe) by presuming to provide the reader with some information about the French Open. Specifically, the origins of the naming of France’s premier tournament after Roland Garros, a French World War I hero. And the story behind the widely displayed phrase in the stadium “Victory belongs only to the most Tenacious”.
Officially named ‘Internationaux de France de Tennis’, the French now use the name Roland-Garros in all languages for the French Open.
In 1927, for the first time in history, the French beat the United States in the Davis Cup. To celebrate this monumental win, the French built a new, 20-court stadium in Paris in 1928. The French decided to name their new stadium after Roland Garros, a pioneer of military aviation and the nation’s most highly decorated, fighter pilot in WW I. He was tragically shot down by the Germans in 1918. He left a legacy of intelligence, bravery and honor, traits the French Open looks to emulate.
The phrase “Victory belongs only to the Persevering”, which is displayed prominently in the stadium, is a quote attributed to Napoleon I, which Roland Garros made his own … “so much so that he inscribed it on his planes’ propellers”. The French considered it a statement of admiration for the quality of tenacity, the attribute expected of all those who participate in the French Open, the Roland Garros tournament.
*Hair of the dog. This phrase is drawn from an ancient cure for a wound caused by a rabid dog bite. A clump of hair from the same rabid dog was placed on the wound, hopefully resulting in relief. Similarly, when suffering from a hangover caused by excessive consumption of alcohol, the ingestion of a small amount of alcohol is supposed to provide relief from the original cause of the malaise.
Features
Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka
World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future
by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara
What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?
These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.
World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.
We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.
Making more of what we already have
Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.
Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.
The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.
Stop wasting the food we produce
Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.
Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.
Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.
Nutrition and food safety come first
Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.
Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.
Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.
A food system that can cope with climate change
Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.
Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.
Give young people a bigger role
Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.
A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.
A pathway designed for Sri Lanka
We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.
The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.
The choices we make today
The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.
So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?
The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.
A better food future begins with the choices we make today.
Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara
Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna
Features
20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried
By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan
The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.
It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.
By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.
I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.
When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.
The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.
The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.
Features
‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24
I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.
The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.
The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.
After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.
The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.
Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.
Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.
He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.
Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.
Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.
Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.
Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.
So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.
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