Features
Mimure and on to Lakegala: the climb was too much for us
by Dishana Uragoda
(Continued from last week)
The drive to Mimure was going to be very slow due to the poor road conditions, which we had already experienced whilst coming into Kumbukgolla. The distance was six km between the two villages and we anticipated to travel at a slow speed, giving us approximately 30 minutes to get to our destination and start setting up camp. We reminded ourselves to collect the repaired tyre from the police station in Mimure. Azard, Udara and Charaka got out of the vehicle and gave an advance escort removing large rocks on the way. Chandi was driving, and I was feeling very tired to help out the three boys outside. Nish and I were making plans to either camp out or move into a school or temple. On some earlier occasions, Nish had been with me on camping trips to Yala with my family, and hence knew the art better than the others.
After about 30 minutes of driving, we managed to get to the police station. The road conditions from then onwards were much better. The policemen were relaxing in the calm and cool evening. As soon as the officer in charge saw us, he beckoned to a constable to go down to the vehicle with the repaired wheel, which made us liven up. The repair of the tyre was done free of charge. We thanked him for his help, and inquired as to the location of the campsite. We were given directions to proceed further on until we came to a bridge. By the side of the bridge was a clear area where we could set up camp. It was close to 6 pm and we had to set up the tents before it became dark.
We reached the bridge, and located on a side was a really nice unpopulated area. The Heen Ganga was calm at the time, but the length of the bridge gave an indication of the force of the water during heavy rains. The surface area in proximity to the bridge was all rock, making the river below look more like a pond with flowing water. I went to the edge of the river and selected a location which would function as a toilet. This was a good camping site for us.
The evening was getting darker and cooler, with a chilly blowing coming along the river valley. We had to settle down fast while daylight was still on. We were quick to the task of unloading and setting up the tents. Villagers had now gathered to inquire about us. They were very friendly and we informed them that we were staying the night there and we wished to climb the mountain Lakegala the following day. There was some degree of privacy for us, as the only houses to be seen were across the bridge. The road in front, the river on one side and a hillock behind surrounded our campsite.

Nish and I set about erecting the tents as we had dealt with this work on our previous trips. Each tent could accommodate three. Nish and I had decided in advance that we were going to sleep in the American-made tent, whilst whoever wanted to sleep in the cotton tent was most welcome to do so. Tharaka immediately volunteered as the third member for our tent, for he may have sensed that the two of us knew more about tents than the others. There was good reason behind selecting the American-made tent, as the thick material was waterproof, whereas the other was of thin cotton fit for camping in hot weather. For obvious reasons, this knowledge was selfishly kept to ourselves.
Whilst some of us were making the final sleeping arrangements within the tents, others had started preparing the dinner. Azard, Udara and Chandi lighted the lamps and set about getting the kerosene cooker running in order to have noodles for the night. Whilst they were busy with that, Tharaka, Nish and myself went for a river bath. By this time, the full moon was up, and the time was past 7.15 pm. It was a beautifully lit night with clear skies. After the long day we had gone through, jumping into the rather cold water for a bath made us feel refreshed.
Since we had previous experience of the capacity of our cooker, Azard and Udara too joined us in the knowledge that nothing would get overcooked. After the bath, Azard went back to the cooker and made sure that the noodles would come out edible. And we did have our dinner that night. After dinner we went to the river below and washed the cooking utensils, plates, and so on. By now half of us were feeling rather sleepy.
It was around 9 pm and silence reigned in the village. It was a good time to use the night cover to go to the toilet. I had arranged my “bed” in advance by laying sheets on it. A makeshift pillow was prepared by stuffing a case with clothes. It was time to go to bed. I realized it would not be a peaceful and quiet night. By now, the wind blowing down the ravine had increased in velocity and the playing wind made a constant fluttering sound on the tent walls. With Nish in the tent, I was confident that there was no way that the tent would fly away. With my mind at peace, I turned off for the night. I awakened once or twice in the night due to falling temperatures and the strong blowing, but in general I did manage to have a rather good night’s sleep.
Lakegala
Lakegala is the tallest and the most imposing mountain in the Knuckles range. When viewed from one angle, it has a needle-like spire, while from another side it has a broad top like an ordinary mountain. The people of the area believe that out of the three visits paid by Lord Buddha to Sri Lanka, one was to Lakegala and not to Adam’s Peak.
The following morning we were up in our tent by around 6.30 am. The three occupants of the other tent had a very poor night’s rest. The cotton had given them no protection from the wind, and the strong blowing had just swept through the tent, freezing the three poor occupants. Many a time they had thought the tent would get swept away by the wind, so that Azard and Udara, who had slept in two of its comers, had to hold on to the tent by anchoring their hands into two internal pockets of the tent. It sounded so funny to the three of us who slept in the other tent, but we knew this was no joke. They had no proper sleep, but kept up in good spirit.
Soon we were all out of the tents and decided to go for a wash to the river, which was within a 50-metre walk. The sound and sight of the cool flowing water was exhilarating. It was enjoyable to have a wash in such a gush of clear water, a far cry from the stream we had in the previous village. The riverbed was a large reddish-yellow rock that extended from bank to bank. It created a waterfall almost under the bridge and then gradually sloped down to form a pool of flowing water.
After the morning wash we prepared our breakfast, which had to be rather quick and easily prepared, as we had to climb Lakegala in the morning before the sun could come out and heat the rocky surface. It was rationed to three slices of bread with butter and jam. I thought it was an ideal breakfast which did not involve cooking. It obviously did not go well with the others, who requested a biscuit packet or two to be opened as well.
Just as we were finishing breakfast, we had visitors, who were an elderly Buddhist monk, accompanied by a 10-year old monk and a bunch of little village boys. We were rather surprised, yet welcomed the monks. We were not quite certain of the proper etiquette in entertaining the monks and were also concerned about the impact of this visit on our plans to climb Lakegala. We offered the monks breakfast, although there was little left. The elderly monk very kindly turned the offer down, and inquired after our plans for the day. Quite proudly, we informed the venerable monk that we intended climbing Lakegala.
Then calmly he inquired if we would comply with his request, which was to take the little monk with us to Lakegala. We were dumb struck, for it eroded into our plans. To put it mildly, I informed the venerable monk that it would be hazardous and could not take responsibility for the small priest. We also pointed out that the monk was in slippers which were unfit for mountain climbing, unlike our branded shoes. By then the venerable monk had obviously decided for us and asked us not to bother any more, but take the priest with us, while two guides would also be provided.

We next prepared ourselves for the climb. We dismantled the two tents and quickly packed them into the van. Now, along with the monk, there were seven passengers. Due to constraints in space, the elderly monk did not come with us. We first crossed the bridge and went to the heart of Mimure where the temple was situated, a distance of two km from the campsite. Soon we were driving through the village on a gravel road, which was quite populated on either side. The young monk looked far from peaceful, for he was bossy and haughty.
Soon afterwards, we happened to meet a well-grown man in his mid-thirties, when the monk ordered Chandi to stop the van. He put his head out and ordered the man to come with another to the temple, where we were supposed to leave the vehicle. Our respect towards the little priest had grown by now, and we had a chat with him in order to figure out where all the respect he elicited came from. He said he was a nephew of the elderly monk who was the chief priest in one of the temples in the village.
We reached Mimure temple and waited for a good 15 minutes until the two guides joined us. We left the van in the temple precincts, and began our trek around 10.15 am. The haversack containing food and water was conveniently handed over to one of the guides. Approach to the mountain was through a series of beautiful tiered paddy fields. The monk was leading along with one of the guides and Azard. The rest of us followed with the second guide. Soon after the stretch of paddy was over, we reached thick vegetation with huge trees.
The path had a loose gravel surface on which we had to step carefully. After about an hour of climbing, we were out of the woods and into the steep stretch of mountain. The terrain had changed dramatically to a seemingly smooth surface with long, golden grass. In reality the grass was covering an uneven rocky soil. At this point we regrouped ourselves and walked vigilantly as we heard that the first group had avoided a cobra at that point.
We were passing that stretch of 20-30 metres, when all of a sudden something bit me so very painfully between my buttocks. I was dressed in a pair of denims and the thickness of the trousers prevented me from rubbing the painful site adequately. The pain was unbearable. I then rushed behind a bush and stroked myself vigorously to relieve the pain, and then there was another excruciating bite. The culprits happened to be two jungle ticks that were barely visible to the naked eye.
Once again we started our climb and we found the tall grass very useful, for by holding on to it, we managed to steady ourselves in climbing the steep mountain. The strong sun was beating down on us and there was no shade to take advantage of. We climbed up for another hour or so when Nish said he was going to retire under one of the few solitary trees on the way. Nish was a strong man, but those with heavy appetites and low food intake may be affected more. We spoke to him and he opted to stay there until we came back.
In the meantime, the little monk was running way ahead of us with his guide tagging behind. Such a lead was an insult to us. Thanks to the grass, we managed to crawl our way up. After the three-quarter way mark up the mountain was a 50-metre stretch of bare rock at a steep angle of about 50 to 60 degrees. It was a stretch where climbers had used ropes to cross. Above the rocky stretch was once again the grassy terrain, running to the very top.
With the greatest difficulty, we managed to get to the bare rocky segment, and the time was around 1.30 pm. To prevent further embarrassment to us, we sent instructions to the guide to stay on until we came up, since it would be dangerous for the priest to proceed on his own. We were now on all fours and decided to take a break before we started our final ascent on the bare rock. Udara happened to stop at this point. The priest was a good twenty feet above us and we watched this 10-year old with amazement. He swiftly removed his slippers and gave them to the guide to carry, then twisted the long end tit’ his robe around his neck, and started running up the rock.
It also meant that our resting period was over. So we also began to ascend, but on all fours. After about five metres of climbing, one by one the boys declared their inability to continue. We were losing our balance, our grip oil the grass-covered rock was slipping and we had no energy to continue. The climb was becoming far too risky and there was no way we could have climbed to the top. Less than 10 metres onto the bare rocky segment, we decided to call it off. The priest was rather disappointed with us, and we sent a message from below to say that we were going to descend. We rested for 10 minutes or so and began our trek down. Even on our way down, the little monk took the lead. We concluded that his mountaineering abilities were an inborn trait in the people of the area.

It was well past 5.30 pm when we finally came down to the van. By this time, Azard had negotiated with one of the guides for a large jak fruit. His hunger pangs were too strong to control after having only three slices of bread for breakfast and skipping lunch. Soon afterwards we picked up the jak fruit, tipped the guides and bade them good-bye. We were on our way to set up camp again for the night.
By 6 pm the tents were once again coming up, whilst Azard, assisted by Udara, was preparing the jak fruit for dinner.
The rest of us set up the tents and then went to the river for a bath. The moonlight was fantastic once again, and it was rather interesting to watch, from the river below, a young teenage couple court openly on the bridge. It was not the first time we saw these villagers expressing their emotions quite freely and openly. The water was cold is in the previous night, but we splashed around and played enough to heat ourselves. It was another enjoyable bath, after which we went up to the tents to check on the dinner.
Azard and Udara were still around the cooker waiting for the water to boil. The kind villagers, with whom Azard had negotiated, brought dishes of sambol and coconut scrapings. Finally, dinner was ready about 8.30 pm. There was plenty of jak to consume as it was a large fruit, and the hungry bunch was happy that night as they finally managed to fill themselves up.
The following morning was the time for departure. The occupants of the cotton tent were better prepared for the second night, and had not suffered as much as the previous night. After the morning wash at the river, followed by breakfast, we packed our personal belongings first, and then along with the dismantled tents and other belongings, loaded them into the van. We bade goodbye to the villagers and set off to Colombo. We were back on the 15th evening after a wonderful and memorable trip.
(I would never have written this if not for the encouragement and support of my parents, Chris and Padma Uragoda, and my dear siblings, Neluka, Dianthi and Lalith, to whom I am deeply thankful. I ought to say, this was primarily written for the love of my parents, and this is a dedication to them.)
(Concluded)
(Excerpted from Jungle Journeys in Sri Lanka edited by CG Uragoda)
Features
How Black Civil Rights leaders strengthen democracy in the US
On being elected US President in 2008, Barack Obama famously stated: ‘Change has come to America’. Considering the questions continuing to grow out of the status of minority rights in particular in the US, this declaration by the former US President could come to be seen as somewhat premature by some. However, there could be no doubt that the election of Barack Obama to the US presidency proved that democracy in the US is to a considerable degree inclusive and accommodating.
If this were not so, Barack Obama, an Afro-American politician, would never have been elected President of the US. Obama was exceptionally capable, charismatic and eloquent but these qualities alone could not have paved the way for his victory. On careful reflection it could be said that the solid groundwork laid by indefatigable Black Civil Rights activists in the US of the likes of Martin Luther King (Jnr) and Jesse Jackson, who passed away just recently, went a great distance to enable Obama to come to power and that too for two terms. Obama is on record as owning to the profound influence these Civil Rights leaders had on his career.
The fact is that these Civil Rights activists and Obama himself spoke to the hearts and minds of most Americans and convinced them of the need for democratic inclusion in the US. They, in other words, made a convincing case for Black rights. Above all, their struggles were largely peaceful.
Their reasoning resonated well with the thinking sections of the US who saw them as subscribers to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, for instance, which made a lucid case for mankind’s equal dignity. That is, ‘all human beings are equal in dignity.’
It may be recalled that Martin Luther King (Jnr.) famously declared: ‘I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of its creed….We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’
Jesse Jackson vied unsuccessfully to be a Democratic Party presidential candidate twice but his energetic campaigns helped to raise public awareness about the injustices and material hardships suffered by the black community in particular. Obama, we now know, worked hard at grass roots level in the run-up to his election. This experience proved invaluable in his efforts to sensitize the public to the harsh realities of the depressed sections of US society.
Cynics are bound to retort on reading the foregoing that all the good work done by the political personalities in question has come to nought in the US; currently administered by Republican hard line President Donald Trump. Needless to say, minority communities are now no longer welcome in the US and migrants are coming to be seen as virtual outcasts who need to be ‘shown the door’ . All this seems to be happening in so short a while since the Democrats were voted out of office at the last presidential election.
However, the last US presidential election was not free of controversy and the lesson is far too easily forgotten that democratic development is a process that needs to be persisted with. In a vital sense it is ‘a journey’ that encounters huge ups and downs. More so why it must be judiciously steered and in the absence of such foresighted managing the democratic process could very well run aground and this misfortune is overtaking the US to a notable extent.
The onus is on the Democratic Party and other sections supportive of democracy to halt the US’ steady slide into authoritarianism and white supremacist rule. They would need to demonstrate the foresight, dexterity and resourcefulness of the Black leaders in focus. In the absence of such dynamic political activism, the steady decline of the US as a major democracy cannot be prevented.
From the foregoing some important foreign policy issues crop-up for the global South in particular. The US’ prowess as the ‘world’s mightiest democracy’ could be called in question at present but none could doubt the flexibility of its governance system. The system’s inclusivity and accommodative nature remains and the possibility could not be ruled out of the system throwing up another leader of the stature of Barack Obama who could to a great extent rally the US public behind him in the direction of democratic development. In the event of the latter happening, the US could come to experience a democratic rejuvenation.
The latter possibilities need to be borne in mind by politicians of the South in particular. The latter have come to inherit a legacy of Non-alignment and this will stand them in good stead; particularly if their countries are bankrupt and helpless, as is Sri Lanka’s lot currently. They cannot afford to take sides rigorously in the foreign relations sphere but Non-alignment should not come to mean for them an unreserved alliance with the major powers of the South, such as China. Nor could they come under the dictates of Russia. For, both these major powers that have been deferentially treated by the South over the decades are essentially authoritarian in nature and a blind tie-up with them would not be in the best interests of the South, going forward.
However, while the South should not ruffle its ties with the big powers of the South it would need to ensure that its ties with the democracies of the West in particular remain intact in a flourishing condition. This is what Non-alignment, correctly understood, advises.
Accordingly, considering the US’ democratic resilience and its intrinsic strengths, the South would do well to be on cordial terms with the US as well. A Black presidency in the US has after all proved that the US is not predestined, so to speak, to be a country for only the jingoistic whites. It could genuinely be an all-inclusive, accommodative democracy and by virtue of these characteristics could be an inspiration for the South.
However, political leaders of the South would need to consider their development options very judiciously. The ‘neo-liberal’ ideology of the West need not necessarily be adopted but central planning and equity could be brought to the forefront of their talks with Western financial institutions. Dexterity in diplomacy would prove vital.
Features
Grown: Rich remnants from two countries
Whispers of Lanka
I was born in a hamlet on the western edge of a tiny teacup bay named Mirissa on the South Coast of Sri Lanka. My childhood was very happy and secure. I played with my cousins and friends on the dusty village roads. We had a few toys to play with, so we always improvised our own games. On rainy days, the village roads became small rivulets on which we sailed paper boats. We could walk from someone’s backyard to another, and there were no fences. We had the freedom to explore the surrounding hills, valleys, and streams.
I was good at school and often helped my classmates with their lessons. I passed the General Certificate of Education (Ordinary Level) at the village school and went to Colombo to study for the General Certificate of Education (Advanced Level). However, I did not like Colombo, and every weekend I hurried back to the village. I was not particularly interested in my studies and struggled in specific subjects. But my teachers knew that I was intelligent and encouraged me to study hard.
To my amazement, I passed the Advanced Level, entered the University of Kelaniya, completed an honours degree in Economics, taught for a few months at a central college, became a lecturer at the same university, and later joined the Department of Census and Statistics as a statistician. Then I went to the University of Wales in the UK to study for an MSc.
The interactions with other international students in my study group, along with very positive recommendations from my professors, helped me secure several jobs in the oil-rich Middle Eastern countries, where I earned salaries unimaginable in Sri Lankan terms. During this period, without much thought, I entered a life focused on material possessions, social status, and excessive consumerism.
Life changes
Unfortunately, this comfortable, enjoyable life changed drastically in the mid-1980s because of the political activities of certain groups. Radicalised youths, brainwashed and empowered by the dynamics of vibrant leftist politics, killed political opponents as well as ordinary people who were reluctant to follow their orders. Their violent methods frightened a large section of Sri Lanka’s middle class into reluctantly accepting country-wide closures of schools, factories, businesses, and government offices.
My father’s generation felt a deep obligation to honour the sacrifices they had made to give us everything we had. There was a belief that you made it in life through your education, and that if you had to work hard, you did. Although I had never seriously considered emigration before, our sons’ education was paramount, and we left Sri Lanka.
Although there were regulations on what could be brought in, migrating to Sydney in the 1980s offered a more relaxed airport experience, with simpler security, a strong presence of airline staff, and a more formal atmosphere. As we were relocating permanently, a few weeks before our departure, we had organised a container to transport sentimental belongings from our home. Our flight baggage was minimal, which puzzled the customs officer, but he laughed when he saw another bulky item on a separate trolley. It was a large box containing a bookshelf purchased in Singapore. Upon discovering that a new migrant family was arriving in Australia with a 32-volume Encyclopaedia Britannica set weighing approximately 250 kilograms, he became cheerful, relaxed his jaw, and said, G’day!
Settling in Sydney
We settled in Epping, Sydney, and enrolled our sons in Epping Boys’ High School. Within one week of our arrival from Sri Lanka, we both found jobs: my wife in her usual accounting position in the private sector, and I was taken on by the Civil Aviation Authority (CAA). While working at the CAA, I sat the Australian Graduate Admission Test. I secured a graduate position with the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) in Canberra, ACT.
We bought a house in Florey, close to my office in Belconnen. The roads near the house were eerily quiet. Back in my hometown of Pelawatta, outside Colombo, my life had a distinct soundtrack. I woke up every morning to the radios blasting ‘pirith’ from the nearby houses; the music of the bread delivery van announcing its arrival, an old man was muttering wild curses to someone while setting up his thambili cart near the junction, free-ranging ‘pariah’ dogs were barking at every moving thing and shadows. Even the wildlife was noisy- black crows gathered on the branches of the mango tree in front of the house to perform a mournful dirge in the morning.
Our Australian neighbours gave us good advice and guidance, and we gradually settled in. If one of the complaints about Asians is that they “won’t join in or integrate to the same degree as Australians do,” this did not apply to us! We never attempted to become Aussies; that was impossible because we didn’t have tanned skin, hazel eyes, or blonde hair, but we did join in the Australian way of life. Having a beer with my next-door neighbour on the weekend and a biannual get-together with the residents of the lane became a routine. Walking or cycling ten kilometres around the Ginninderra Lake with a fit-fanatic of a neighbour was a weekly ritual that I rarely skipped.
Almost every year, early in the New Year, we went to the South Coast. My family and two of our best friends shared a rented house near the beach for a week. There’s not much to do except mix with lots of families with kids, dogs on the beach, lazy days in the sun with a barbecue and a couple of beers in the evening, watching golden sunsets. When you think about Australian summer holidays, that’s all you really need, and that’s all we had!
Caught between two cultures
We tried to hold on to our national tradition of warm hospitality by organising weekend meals with our friends. Enticed by the promise of my wife’s home-cooked feast, our Sri Lankan friends would congregate at our place. Each family would also bring a special dish of food to share. Our house would be crammed with my friends, their spouses and children, the sound of laughter and loud chatter – English mingled with Sinhala – and the aroma of spicy food.
We loved the togetherness, the feeling of never being alone, and the deep sense of belonging within the community. That doesn’t mean I had no regrets in my Australian lifestyle, no matter how trivial they may have seemed. I would have seen migration to another country only as a change of abode and employment, and I would rarely have expected it to bring about far greater changes to my psychological role and identity. In Sri Lanka, I have grown to maturity within a society with rigid demarcation lines between academic, professional, and other groups.
Furthermore, the transplantation from a patriarchal society where family bonds were essential to a culture where individual pursuit of happiness tended to undermine traditional values was a difficult one for me. While I struggled with my changing role, my sons quickly adopted the behaviour and aspirations of their Australian peers. A significant part of our sons’ challenges lay in their being the first generation of Sri Lankan-Australians.
The uniqueness of the responsibilities they discovered while growing up in Australia, and with their parents coming from another country, required them to play a linguistic mediator role, and we, as parents, had to play the cultural mediator role. They were more gregarious and adaptive than we were, and consequently, there was an instant, unrestrained immersion in cultural diversity and plurality.
Technology
They became articulate spokesmen for young Australians growing up in a world where information technology and transactions have become faster, more advanced, and much more widespread. My work in the ABS for nearly twenty years has followed cycles, from data collection, processing, quality assurance, and analysis to mapping, research, and publishing. As the work was mainly computer-based and required assessing and interrogating large datasets, I often had to depend heavily on in-house software developers and mainframe programmers. Over that time, I have worked in several areas of the ABS, making a valuable contribution and gaining a wide range of experience in national accounting.
I immensely valued the unbiased nature of my work, in which the ABS strived to inform its readers without the influence of public opinion or government decisions. It made me proud to work for an organisation that had a high regard for quality, accuracy, and confidentiality. I’m not exaggerating, but it is one of the world’s best statistical organisations! I rubbed shoulders with the greatest statistical minds. The value of this experience was that it enabled me to secure many assignments in Vanuatu, Fiji, East Timor, Saudi Arabia, and the Solomon Islands through the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund after I left the ABS.
Living in Australia
Studying and living in Australia gave my sons ample opportunities to realise that their success depended not on acquiring material wealth but on building human capital. They discovered that it was the sum total of their skills embodied within them: education, intelligence, creativity, work experience and even the ability to play basketball and cricket competitively. They knew it was what they would be left with if someone stripped away all of their assets. So they did their best to pursue their careers on that path and achieve their life goals. Of course, the healthy Australian economy mattered too. As an economist said, “A strong economy did not transform a valet parking attendant into a professor. Investment in human capital did that.”
Nostalgia
After living in Australia for several decades, do I miss Sri Lanka? Which country deserves my preference, the one where I was born or the one to which I migrated? There is no single answer; it depends on opportunities, prospects, lifestyle, and family. Factors such as the cost of living, healthcare, climate, and culture also play significant roles in shaping this preference. Tradition in a slow-motion place like Sri Lanka is an ethical code based on honouring those who do things the same way you do, and dishonour those who don’t. However, in Australia, one has the freedom to express oneself, to debate openly, to hold unconventional views, to be more immune to peer pressure, and not to have one’s every action scrutinised and discussed.
For many years, I have navigated the challenges of cultural differences, conflicting values, and the constant negotiation of where I truly ‘belong.’ Instead of yearning for a ‘dream home’ where I once lived, I have struggled, and to some extent succeeded, to find a home where I live now. This does not mean I have forgotten or discarded my roots. As one Sri Lankan-Australian senior executive remarked, “I have not restricted myself to the box I came in… I was not the ethnicity, skin colour, or lack thereof, of the typical Australian… but that has been irrelevant to my ability to contribute to the things which are important to me and to the country adopted by me.” Now, why do I live where I live – in that old house in Florey? I love the freshness of the air, away from the city smog, noisy traffic, and fumes. I enjoy walking in the evening along the tree-lined avenues and footpaths in my suburb, and occasionally I see a kangaroo hopping along the nature strip. I like the abundance of trees and birds singing at my back door. There are many species of birds in the area, but a common link with ours is the melodious warbling of resident magpies. My wife has been feeding them for several years, and we see the new fledglings every year. At first light and in the evening, they walk up to the back door and sing for their meal. The magpie is an Australian icon, and I think its singing is one of the most melodious sounds in the suburban areas and even more so in the bush.
by Siri Ipalawatte
Features
Big scene for models…
Modelling has turned out to be a big scene here and now there are lots of opportunities for girls and boys to excel as models.
Of course, one can’t step onto the ramp without proper training, and training should be in the hands of those who are aware of what modelling is all about.
Rukmal Senanayake is very much in the news these days and his Model With Ruki – Model Academy & Agency – is responsible for bringing into the limelight, not only upcoming models but also contestants participating in beauty pageants, especially internationally.
On the 29th of January, this year, it was a vibrant scene at the Temple Trees Auditorium, in Colombo, when Rukmal introduced the Grey Goose Road To Future Model Hunt.

Tharaka Gurukanda … in
the scene with Rukmal
This is the second Model Hunt to be held in Sri Lanka; the first was in 2023, at Nelum Pokuna, where over 150 models were able to showcase their skills at one of the largest fashion ramps in Sri Lanka.
The concept was created by Rukmal Senanayake and co-founded by Tharaka Gurukanda.
Future Model Hunt, is the only Southeast Asian fashion show for upcoming models, and designers, to work along and create a career for their future.
The Grey Goose Road To Future Model Hunt, which showcased two segments, brought into the limelight several models, including students of Ruki’s Model Academy & Agency and those who are established as models.
An enthusiastic audience was kept spellbound by the happenings on the ramp.

Doing it differently
Four candidates were also crowned, at this prestigious event, and they will represent Sri Lanka at the respective international pageants.
Those who missed the Grey Goose Road To Future Model Hunt, held last month, can look forward to another exciting Future Model Hunt event, scheduled for the month of May, 2026, where, I’m told, over 150 models will walk the ramp, along with several designers.
It will be held at a prime location in Colombo with an audience count, expected to be over 2000.
Model With Ruki offers training for ramp modelling and beauty pageants and other professional modelling areas.
Their courses cover: Ramp walk techniques, Posture and grooming, Pose and expression, Runway etiquette, and Photo shoots and portfolio building,
They prepare models for local and international fashion events, shoots, and competitions and even send models abroad for various promotional events.
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