by Prof. M. W. Amarasiri de Silva

I have often pondered the factors that have allowed me to reach the age of 78, a milestone that stands in stark contrast to the shorter lifespans of the generations before me, with my father passing away at 68 and my grandfather at just 49. It is both a humbling and fascinating realisation to know that I am currently the longest-living person in my family’s known lineage, yet this milestone naturally invites a deeper reflection on how best to account for such a distinct disparity. A closer look at our familial history reveals the stark realities of earlier eras: my grandfather passed away in 1931, shortly before my father’s marriage, and my father ultimately succumbed to thrombosis in 1974. Yet here I am, decades later, still going strong at 78. Solving this puzzle of longevity requires looking beyond mere chance to consider the powerful interplay of generational advances in public health, modern cardiovascular medicine, shifting dietary and lifestyle habits, and the gradual reduction of environmental stressors across the decades. How, then, do these converging historical and medical shifts help us truly make sense of such a remarkable generational transformation?

Sri Lanka’s demographic journey

For more than a century, Sri Lanka’s demographic and epidemiological journey have served as a global paradigm for what can be accomplished when a nation prioritises social investment over raw economic output. Long before the term human development index gained currency in international policy circles, our island had already begun laying the groundwork for a public health system that was radically egalitarian in its design and astonishingly effective in its execution. In the decades immediately preceding and following independence, the narrative surrounding Sri Lanka’s medical achievements was anchored in the heroic conquest of acute mortality.

The rapid expansion of a free, state-funded medical network, the aggressive eradication of endemic malaria through widespread spraying and vector management, the introduction of universal childhood immunisations, and the relentless lowering of maternal and infant mortality rates collectively transformed a post-colonial tropical society into an outlier of longevity. When post-independence health planners first measured the life expectancy of the average Sri Lankan citizen in the mid-twentieth century, a newborn child could expect to live barely past fifty years. Today, robust demographic data confirms that average life expectancy in Sri Lanka has surged to nearly seventy-eight years, with women routinely living past seventy-nine—a figure that stands head and shoulders above our South Asian neighbours and rivals the health profiles of many high-income Western nations.

Yet, this extraordinary victory over acute infectious disease and early death has brought Sri Lanka face to face with a second, far more insidious health crisis. The very success of our twentieth-century public health campaigns ensured that millions of citizens survived childhood and mid-life infections, only to age into an environment increasingly characterised by urbanisation, dietary shifts, sedentary occupations, and psycho-social stress. As a direct consequence, the island’s disease burden has undergone a dramatic structural flip. Non-communicable diseases—specifically type 2 diabetes mellitus, essential hypertension, ischemic heart disease, cerebrovascular accidents, chronic kidney disease, and various forms of malignancy—now account for more than eighty percent of all deaths nationwide. For much of the past forty years, our healthcare infrastructure struggled to adapt to this shifting terrain. The legacy system, designed primarily to treat sudden, acute episodes of illness like respiratory infections, dysentery, or acute trauma, applied that same reactive logic to chronic condition management. Patients were conditioned to seek medical intervention only after a physical crisis had manifested—when severe retrosternal chest pain signalled a myocardial infarction, when unmanaged hyperglycaemia caused irreparable blurred vision or peripheral gangrene, or when a sudden ischemic stroke left a family patriarch or matriarch permanently paralysed. That era of reactive, crisis-driven medicine is finally ending, yielding to a quiet but profound revolution in how health is monitored, preserved, and restored.

Age of paradigm shift

We are entering the age of paradigm shift powered by the convergence of early molecular diagnostics, low-cost wearable health technologies, point-of-care digital sensors, minimally invasive surgical techniques, and advanced interventional cardiology. Modern clinical science is moving decisively away from the blunt rescue operations of the past toward a model of continuous, predictive risk management. Rather than waiting for organs to fail or arterial walls to rupture, contemporary medicine seeks to identify biological vulnerabilities at the cellular and metabolic level long before a single outward symptom appears. In doing so, it is not merely adding passive years to the human lifespan; it is fundamentally altering the biological trajectory of human aging in Sri Lanka, preserving physical autonomy, cognitive clarity, and productive vitality well into the twilight years.

To fully grasp the magnitude of this transformation, one must examine the devastating trajectory of type 2 diabetes in South Asia and how new diagnostic and monitoring tools are systematically dismantling its reign. For generations, metabolic disease was understood as an inevitable accompaniment of aging or an unavoidable genetic fate. South Asian populations possess a well-documented genetic predisposition toward central adiposity and insulin resistance at significantly lower body mass index thresholds than their Western counterparts. Historically, diabetes was detected through basic fasting blood sugar tests administered only when a patient presented with classic symptoms such as excessive thirst, frequent urination, or unexplained weight loss. By the time those symptoms emerged, however, subtle metabolic damage had already been accumulating quietly within the body for a decade or more. Microvascular damage to the retina and kidney glomeruli, along with macrovascular stiffening of the coronary and carotid arteries, had already taken root.

Timeline rewritten

Modern diagnostic protocols have completely rewritten this timeline. The widespread clinical adoption of Glycated Haemoglobin testing, alongside advanced assays measuring fasting insulin and homeostatic model assessment of insulin resistance, now allows clinicians to spot subtle metabolic dysregulation long before blood glucose levels breach the threshold of clinical diabetes or even standard prediabetes. Doctors can now inform a forty-year-old patient that while their blood sugar appears superficially normal on a standard panel, their pancreas is hyper-secreting insulin to clear that glucose—a clear warning sign that metabolic exhaustion is looming five to ten years down the road.

Even more transformative than early laboratory screening is the rapid miniaturisation and commercialization of personal monitoring technology, most notably Continuous Glucose Monitors. These small, water-resistant sensors, affixed painlessly to the upper arm, utilise microscopic filaments embedded in interstitial fluid to continuously record glucose concentrations twenty-four hours a day. Through wireless telemetry, they stream real-time glycaemic data directly to a user’s smartphone. For the first time in medical history, the invisible dynamics of human metabolism are rendered instantly visible to the individual. A user in Colombo or Kandy wearing a continuous monitor no longer must guess how a heavy lunch of refined white rice, a late-night sweet meat, or a forty-minute brisk walk affects their blood chemistry. They can observe the precise glycaemic spike in real time and watch how physical activity accelerates glucose clearance into muscle tissue.

This immediate biofeedback loop transforms the patient from a passive recipient of quarterly doctor’s orders into an empowered, active manager of their own biology. For individuals in the early prediabetic spectrum, continuous visibility provides the behavioural trigger required to implement targeted dietary modifications, stress management, and exercise routines that can completely arrest or reverse the progression toward overt diabetes. For those already living with diagnosed diabetes, continuous monitoring paired with modern pharmacotherapy—such as SGLT-2 inhibitors and GLP-1 receptor agonists that not only manage glucose but directly protect renal and cardiac tissue—drastically dampens dangerous glycaemic variability. By preventing severe spikes and nocturnal hypoglycaemic crashes, these technologies protect the delicate microvascular bed of the kidneys and eyes, virtually eliminating the tragic secondary complications of blindness and end-stage renal disease that historically plagued aging Sri Lankans.

A parallel revolution

A parallel revolution is unfolding in the management of systemic hypertension, the proverbial silent killer responsible for most stroke deaths and heart failure hospitalizations in our country. Hypertension is notoriously insidious because elevated arterial pressure causes no physical discomfort until catastrophic vascular damage occurs. For decades, the standard method for diagnosing hypertension was an opportunistic blood pressure reading taken with a manual sphygmomanometer during a sporadic visit to a hospital OPD or private dispensary. This method was notoriously fraught with diagnostic error. Patients frequently suffered from white-coat hypertension, where the stress of being in a clinical setting artificially elevated their reading, leading to over-prescription of medication. Conversely, others suffered from masked hypertension, where normal clinic readings concealed dangerously high blood pressure spikes during routine working hours or sleep.

The widespread availability of affordable, clinical-grade digital blood pressure monitors, smart wristbands, and ambulatory blood pressure cuffs has rendered sporadic clinic readings obsolete. Individuals can now capture comprehensive, multi-day home blood pressure profiles that accurately reflect their cardiovascular reality across morning, evening, and resting states. Automated smart wearables can detect subtle arterial stiffness and wave velocity trends, alerting users to early vascular aging long before persistent resting hypertension becomes established.

The clinical payoff of catching mild blood pressure elevations in their earliest phases is immense. Early lifestyle interventions, such as dietary sodium restriction, increased potassium intake through local produce, weight management, and low-dose antihypertensive agents like ACE inhibitors or calcium channel blockers, can easily reset arterial pressure back to optimal ranges. Maintaining arterial elasticity over decades prevents the hypertrophy of the left ventricle of the heart, preserves the delicate filtration barriers of the renal capillaries, and shields the cerebral vasculature from micro-aneurysms. Consequently, the incidence of devastating haemorrhagic strokes and vascular-dementia-induced cognitive decline—conditions that historically stripped elderly Sri Lankans of their dignity and independence—is declining among populations with access to early vascular management.

Interventional advancements

When cardiovascular disease does breach these early preventive barriers, modern surgical and interventional advancements ensure that an acute cardiac event no longer carries the death sentence or permanent disability that it did a generation ago. The field of interventional cardiology has evolved from major open operations toward extraordinarily precise, minimally invasive procedures. Half a century ago, a severe coronary artery blockage required open-heart surgery, complete with a sternotomy, heart-lung bypass machinery, weeks of intensive hospital care, and months of painful recovery. Today, through advanced transradial cardiac catheterization, an interventional cardiologist can enter the arterial system via a tiny puncture in the patient’s wrist under local anaesthesia. Utilising high-resolution fluoroscopic imaging, intra-vascular ultrasound, and fractional flow reserve technology, the cardiologist can navigate directly into the coronary vessels, clear the occluding atherosclerotic plaque, and deploy state-of-the-art drug-eluting stents to restore full myocardial perfusion within hours.

Moreover, surgical innovations have dramatically expanded the upper age limits of who can safely undergo complex structural heart procedures. Historically, an elderly patient in their late seventies or eighties suffering from severe aortic valve stenosis was considered far too frail to survive the trauma of traditional valve replacement surgery. Today, the advent of Transcatheter Aortic Valve Replacement allows cardiac teams to deliver a fully functional biological valve through a femoral catheter directly into the heart while it continues to beat. Similarly, electrophysiological breakthroughs—including tiny, leadless pacemakers implanted directly into the cardiac chambers and sophisticated implantable cardioverter-defibrillators—continuously monitor cardiac rhythm, firing micro-electrical shocks to instantaneously terminate fatal ventricular arrhythmias without any human intervention. These mechanical and surgical triumphs mean that a cardiac diagnosis in late life no longer signals an irreversible descent into bedridden invalidity. Instead, septuagenarians and octogenarians are routinely restored to functional physical capacity, walking, traveling, and living independently.

The convergence of these preventive diagnostic tools, wearable monitoring gadgets, metabolic therapies, and minimally invasive cardiac surgeries is driving a profound paradigm shift in how we conceptualise the aging process itself. For centuries, biological aging was viewed as an inescapable, uniform process of decay characterised by progressive frailty, multi-organ breakdown, and loss of functional independence. Today, geroscience—the study of the biological mechanisms driving aging—has demonstrated that the physical decline traditionally associated with old age is largely the cumulative result of unmanaged, low-grade chronic pathology. By systematically neutralising chronic hyperglycaemia, hypertension, sub-clinical inflammation, and vascular occlusion early in life, modern medicine is successfully decoupling chronological age from physiological decline.

Conceptual shift

This conceptual shift is best reflected in the growing clinical focus on healthy life expectancy, or health span, as opposed to raw lifespan. Life expectancy merely measures the total number of years an individual lives from birth to death; health span measures the number of those years lived in full physical health, free from chronic disease, functional disability, or severe cognitive impairment. Historically, even as Sri Lanka’s total life expectancy expanded during the late twentieth century, our average health span lagged significantly behind, creating a painful decade-long gap at the end of life spent battling chronic invalidity, reliance on family caregivers, and heavy financial burdens from constant hospitalizations.

By pushing the onset of chronic disease into the extreme final years of life—a phenomenon known in epidemiology as the compression of morbidity—modern health technologies enable citizens to preserve their vitality, cognitive sharpness, and muscular mobility well into their seventies and eighties. Older adults are no longer forced by physical frailty into early social and economic isolation. Instead, they remain active, productive participants in their communities, continuing to teach, write, advise, manage businesses, and contribute their accumulated wisdom to the nation’s social and economic capital. Aging in contemporary Sri Lanka is gradually ceasing to be defined by decline and dependency, evolving instead into a prolonged phase of active, self-directed life.

However, as we celebrate these triumphs of science and engineering, we must confront a critical societal question: how can Sri Lanka ensure that this revolution in longevity is democratised across all segments of our population, rather than remaining an exclusive privilege reserved for the urban affluent? Advanced continuous glucose monitors, high-end smart wearables, drug-eluting stents, and specialized interventional care carry significant financial costs. In a nation currently navigating complex economic recovery and tight fiscal constraints within the public health sector, there is a very real danger that a widening technological divide could create a two-tiered aging experience—where wealthy urban citizens enjoy healthy longevity while low-income and rural populations remain vulnerable to unmanaged chronic disease and premature death.

Bridging the gap

Bridging this gap requires an intentional, forward-looking public health strategy. The Ministry of Health’s ongoing expansion of Healthy Lifestyle Centres across island-wide primary healthcare networks represents an important step in the right direction. These centres must be equipped not merely with basic blood pressure cuffs and weighing scales, but with digital point-of-care diagnostic tools capable of measuring HbA1c, lipid profiles, and renal function markers instantaneously in remote rural clinics. Furthermore, public health policy must leverage our national mobile telecommunications infrastructure to deploy community-level digital health tracking. Telemedicine platforms, automated SMS health reminders, and subsidized digital monitoring devices distributed to high-risk individuals in rural agricultural and industrial districts can democratize preventive care, catching metabolic and cardiovascular risks in tea plantation workers and paddy farmers just as effectively as in Colombo executives.

Ultimately, the story of health in Sri Lanka has always been one of extraordinary resilience and institutional ingenuity. Just as our public health pioneers in the mid-twentieth century proved to the world that a developing nation could eradicate tropical diseases and achieve high life expectancy through free public education and universal healthcare, our contemporary medical system must now demonstrate that preventive longevity can be made accessible to all. The tools to detect disease before it strikes, to monitor bodily health in real time, and to surgically repair failing organs are already in our hands. By integrating these modern technologies into our public health fabric, Sri Lanka can ensure that the gift of long life is matched by the gift of enduring health, productivity, and human dignity for generations to come.

Tales of Mystery and Suspense 16:

I have thus far looked only at novels, but in recent years I have also read several short story collections full of suspense and mystery. The first of these that I will explore is by someone not usually associated with such work. Edith Wharton was rather known for her incisive stories about American high society in the 19th century, on the lines of Henry James, though she was brilliant and less convoluted .

She was not someone I had read in childhood, but for some reason I have on my shelves several books by her, though I cannot now recollect from where they were all collected, and when. Over the years I read several of the novels I have, and enjoyed them, but for some reason I do not think I took down The Ghost Stories of Edith Wharton, a comparatively slim volume, that had been tucked away amongst my children’s books.

I could recollect none of the stories, except for the last two, the plots of which came back to me as I began reading them. One was called ‘All Souls’’ and was about a lady who lived by herself and found one night that all her servants had gone away, leaving her alone in the house. She had broken her ankle that day and been put to bed, with strict injunctions not to move, but when her bell was not answered she had staggered up, to find the electricity not working and no one at home. The voice she heard in the kitchen turned out to be from a radio.

When she awoke on what she thought the following morning, she was told she had imagined things and the servants were all back in place, and it was only the same morning. I had remembered by then that the probable explanation was that the servants had all gone to celebrate a witches’ sabbath, for it was All Souls’ Day when the dead walk. What I had forgotten was that before she fell she had seen a woman walking up to the house, and when a year later she saw the woman again, she fled, to stay with her cousin, who narrates the story. She never went back to the house.

The last story in the book is more straightforward, about a young man who goes to stay with an explorer he had met, who has set up house in the desert. But his host is not there when Medford arrives, and he is looked after by his manservant Gosling, who said Almondham was due back any day. But he did not arrive, and meanwhile there was less and less water to drink, for Medford refused wine and there was no Perrier.

Meanwhile his bath water smells, and I then remembered that in fact Gosling had killed his master, though perhaps not intentionally, and put him in the well. The reason was that he had not been allowed any leave and, just when he thought Almondham would relent, he said he was expecting a visitor and Gosling would have to stay on.

But while this is no great mystery, Edith Wharton creates suspense by making Medford worry about whether Gosling is correct in telling him not to trust the Arab servants, who were likely to kill him if he went off alone with them. And though it is more and more obvious that Gosling has not told him the truth, Medford is sure of nothing, until he suddenly finds Gosling about to push him into the stinking well, though he then backs off.

These two stories, which I remembered, perhaps because they had been anthologized elsewhere, were the most compelling, though I did find almost all the others also quite readable. And almost all held one’s interest, with the suspense being maintained until the end – and beyond it sometimes since the stories were sometimes open ended.

Amongst the most gripping was the story of a man who decided to visit the sister, who lived alone in Brittany, of an old friend. But when he got to a darkened house, he suddenly remembered that he had been told the woman had died. So he is quite convinced, when an old woman lets him in, and he is confronted by a shadowy figure on the stairs, that this is a ghost.

She begs him to stay, for she says she has felt appallingly lonely since she died, but he finally breaks away and flees. But when he tells the sister this, and says he is sorry he had not visited the grave, for she had wanted to be buried in her garden, he is told that she had not died, but only had a cataleptic fit, from which she had recovered.

Several other stories deal with adultery, or affection for a man, on the part of a woman treated badly by her husband. These stories, it is suggested, reflect Wharton’s own situation, for the man she married was serially unfaithful and not at all sympathetic, and they parted company. But women were expected to uphold rigid standards of behaviour, and many of Wharton’s heroines suffer accordingly.

The most dramatic of these involves a woman who meets her lover in a crypt, which her husband walls up, with a statue of her he has commissioned, the face of which breaks up to indicate the grief that overcame her. I have read similar outcomes in stories by Balzac and also Nirmali Hettiarachchi, adapted by the latter, but only here does stone change shape to express the grief that led to the deaths of all the women.

In another story a husband strangles a dog a woman lavished love on since she was alone, with a necklace he had given her and which she passed to an admirer, a necklace the husband had somehow got back. He then strangled all other dogs she paid attention to, but one night when she went down, the man who loved her having come back, to warn him that her husband was home, she heard him being attacked at the top of the stairs by the ghosts of all the dogs. And since dog bites were seen on the dead body, she was acquitted of the charge of murder which had been brought against her.

There are tales too of possession by dead women, one ending in an exorcism, the other with the husband vanishing, after getting letters from his dead wife, leaving his new wife and her mother dimly understanding what has happened. All these denouements are, if not as dramatic as in the last two stories, memorable, which is why I have little doubt this is the first time I read these other stories. And they serve to emphasize the talent of a remarkable woman, who made a life for herself away from the conventions of American society.

A memoir by Thamasha Abeynaike

Glancing at the phone for a photo before the start of the first charter flight of the day, I noticed the time was 11:11. It seemed like a nod from the universe that this was bound to be a memorable day — and the 27th of December 2021 didn’t disappoint.

Capt. Gihan Fernando (Capt. GAF) greeted us at the hangar and after a reminder to me, as an observer on the flight, to ‘Take lots of photos!’, we waved him goodbye.

After a flawless sector from Ratmalana to beautiful Sigiriya, PIC Capt. Dinindu Ruwanpathiranage (Capt. Dinny) taxiied onto the apron and we awaited the arrival of our passengers for the next sector : Sigiriya to Koggala.

To say we were blessed with the most relaxed and understanding couple as passengers for this sector would be an understatement.

Wassim and Marya, who are now an indescribable part of our aviation lives, shared their plans of a beautiful vacation on the coast of Weligama.

Landing Site — Circled in Red, Attempted Runway — On Bottom Left of picture

Personally, I was excited for my favourite approach in Sri Lanka — the approach into Koggala Airport — bordered on one end by the beach, and the other by the Koggala Lake.

Our take off from Sigiriya was at sharp 13:00h and our lives were shaken within the next 52 mins.

While overflying Kurunegala, and following a descent down to 5000ft MSL, the engine of our trusted 4R-GAF Cessna 172 aircraft started to run rough. Following troubleshoots and after our trained procedures, Capt. Dinny diverted to Katunayake International Airport.

The Italian phrase “Cadere dalle nuvole” (direct translation : ‘to fall from the clouds’) — means “When you’re forced to face the reality.”

We are trained in Forced Emergency Landing Procedures throughout our flying careers countless times. I, myself, have chatted to my friends over numerous dinners about aerodynamics and emergency procedures. However, when the actual engine of your aircraft is giving up on you, there is no definite prediction of descent rate and glide range.

At Nawaloka Hospital Colombo : Photo by Channa

Sigiriya Airport Apron : Photo by Wassim

We ran through the emergency procedures many times with one of our ever supportive passengers, Wassim, mentioning, ‘We will not disturb you. You guys get us down safely.’ No better words could have been spoken and a confident voice echoed in my head ‘We’re all going to be safe’.

While perfectly lined up with a cleared runway at Katunayake Airport and with Capt. Dinny talking to and working with a misfiring engine, the engine of our C172 finally completely shut down at 200ft.

This is a testament to the indefinable skill of Capt. Dinny — to make a split second decision to abandon the approach and turn to a paddy field on his right, upon which we touched down beautifully at an impressive speed of 55knots at 13:52h.

Unfortunately, while slowing down in the mud, the aircraft collided with a concrete road which was slightly raised from the field level.

Zoom image will be displayed

I am forever grateful for this sequence of events, as Capt. Dinny’s skill and the thought of keeping the nose raised throughout the landing roll, saved us from being crushed by the instrument panel collapsing onto us.

Six months later, we have

physically recovered.

After listening to the stories of hearing this news and rushing to our side — from our families, friends, students to the aviation community — I can only sum it all up to one word : Grateful.This redirection was a blessed awakening to the true value of life and what potential a great training, instinct and a calm mindset hold in this beautiful field of aviation.