Life style
My home is the taste of eggplant
Growing up in Sri Lanka, my childhood was rich with home cooked eggplant dishes — despite my dad’s warnings
Zinara Rathnayake
I cannot remember when I first tasted eggplant, but I was at home. Where I grew up. Our house sat in one corner of a two-acre paddy field in the teardrop island, Sri Lanka. I was in kindergarten, or maybe even younger. My mother made sure I grew up with the flavours of wambatu. This is the name for eggplant, aubergine or brinjal in native Sinhalese – wambatu.
In ayurveda, purple eggplant is considered a “heaty food” — my father, always reading, would advise us against eating it too often. “You’ll get a headache,” he will say one day. “Your legs and hands will ache,” he will tell us another day. Now at 24, I realize my father may have been right all along. Nightshades such as eggplants do seem to trigger my frequent migraines.
But it was too late. I will always love wambatu now.
Growing up in our little home, my mother would cook me her tempered eggplant dish two or three times a week. We had two kitchens at home. One was the usual indoor kitchen. The other was an open kitchen space with an earthen fire. This was the norm in Sri Lankan homes. The modern indoor kitchen is for light cooking. The earthen fire is for “serious” cooking.
Inside, there was a kerosene stove. “It cooks food faster,” my mother would say. She juggled two jobs — teacher and housewife. Once she washed and removed the stems, she would cut each eggplant into thin slices. She would carefully check for any rotten part, or sometimes for worms. If your eggplant has tiny holes inside, it’s a telltale sign of pests. In the early 2000s, most vegetables we bought home were organically grown. There was always a chance to find a tiny worm or a black, rotten part in our eggplants.
“These are the best eggplants,” my mother would say as the younger me watched her with disgust as she removed the inedible parts. “You know you aren’t eating poison. They don’t have chemical pesticides.”
In mornings before school, she would use an aluminum cooking pot. She would pour a little coconut oil. How many spoons? Two or three? There was no measuring scale. “The right amount, so it tastes right,” she would tell me. The same words her mother, my grandmother told her. Homemade coconut oil slowly would heat on the kerosene fire, and the rich aroma would fill the space within the four walls of our kitchen.
Curry leaves, sliced onions, chopped garlic and finely cut red chili would cook for three to five minutes. When the onions turned translucent, she would add the sliced eggplant into it, followed by a few tablespoons of red chili powder, roasted curry powder, turmeric powder, and sea salt. It’s cooked until the eggplants turn slightly mushy.
The creamy lentils curry and spicy sambal paired perfectly with my mother’s slightly-mushy, tempered eggplant. It was a divided labor of love. It tastes like home.
Served warm, I would devour this eggplant with white or red rice, a creamy parippu (lentils) curry, and pol sambal. Lentils are cooked in thick, creamy, homemade coconut milk with Lankan spices. Pol sambal is a spicy condiment prepared with freshly, scraped coconut. Every morning, my father would scrape half a coconut. He would then add the grated coconut flesh, dried red chili, and sliced onions into a chalice-shaped mortar. He would use a pestle to finely crush all the ingredients, and season it with lime before it went into our plates.
Tempered eggplants are muddy-green in colour. Before cooking, nature marks the raw eggplants with white and purple stripes. These are graffiti eggplants. They grow in abundance in the dry parts of Sri Lanka. Every Sunday, I would go to the weekly fair with my mother. It was a produce market where men and women came to sell and buy local produce. We’d buy two kilos of graffiti eggplants every week, just for me and my mother.

On the day of my ‘akuru kiyaweema’ — a customary event of reading the first letters to a child at an auspicious time in Sri Lanka.
Some days in the evenings, I would sit on the green grass by the small bamboo gate at home. Every evening, a middle-aged man rode his bread truck along the dusty narrow lane in front of our house. He went through the paddy fields into the village beyond visible sight. We called him Choon Paan Uncle. Choon is a Sinhalese term which indicates fun and happiness — something like good vibes. Paan is the Sinhalese name for bread.
The truck was Choon because he played music. It was a distinctive sound unique to Choon Paan trucks around the island. When I would hear the first sound of Choon Paan Uncle, I’d call my mum and we’d buy a loaf of bread from the truck, fresh off the oven. During dinner, I’d eat two slices of bread with my mother’s tempered eggplant dish.
The American eggplant is meatier inside. They grow in farmlands in Sri Lanka’s hill country, particularly in the tea town Nuwara Eliya. The sight of small makeshift stalls piled with stacks of glorious, dark-purple eggplant fills my heart with joy. It was only during school holidays that we’d road-trip in a small minibus to the up country. We’d come back home with several kilos of eggplants and a potted, mountain-grown gerbera plant. A week later, the gerbera plant was usually dead, but our stomachs (full with delicious eggplants) are happy. Our hearts were even happier.
My mother also made a creamy curry with eggplants. She would first deep fry sliced eggplants. Once the excess oil is removed, she would make it into a curry. The crunchy pieces were cooked in thick coconut milk and seasoned with Indian Ocean spices.
There’s another eggplant dish I remember well. Wambatu moju is a celebration. It’s a delightful pickle that’s only prepared during special occasions. It has often been a centerpiece of the lunch table at home weddings, birthdays, and Sri Lankan New Year celebrations. It’s mostly served with yellow ghee rice.
To make it: eggplants are sliced. The meaty slices are fried until they turn golden brown in colour. You then fry your green chillies and shallots. These coconut-oil fried ingredients are marinated with mustard paste, ginger-garlic paste, chili flakes, salt, sugar, and vinegar. At home, we prepare the pastes ourselves on a grinding stone by hand. The preparation lasts for hours.
With layers and layers of taste, the eggplant pickle is quintessentially Sri Lankan. It tickles your taste buds. Chilli adds a punchy note. The tangy vinegar pairs well with sugar and salt, and balances the bitterness of the crushed mustards. It’s every wonderful flavour in one single bite.
Back then, in our tiny house by the paddy fields, my father worked his spare time in the garden. Our lawn was where bananas, pineapples, coconuts, and some vegetables were grown seasonally. There was also Thai eggplant and pea eggplant. Green in colour, they both look and taste different from their purple-coloured sisters. My father excelled at his elabatu (Thai eggplant) curry. He added dried tamarind from our next-door neighbor to our tiny Thai eggplants, cut in half and de-seeded.
Pea eggplants or thibbatu are even smaller. They are tiny, perfectly round balls. They are also named Turkey berries. When tempered, the clusters of berries taste wonderful. Since they are incredibly small, my father didn’t bother to remove the bitter seeds. But it was the kind of bitter you’d slowly fall in love with. I hated it at first, but with time, I slowly begin to like it. Before I knew it, I would ask my father for bitter-tasting, stir-fried pea eggplants every dinner.
As I grew up, I began loving my father’s Ayurvedic cooking. He frequented the outdoor kitchen, where he prepared tempered pea eggplants on an earthen fire inside a clay pot and turned seedless Thai eggplant into the sour, creamy curries I devoured. “There’s nothing heaty about them,” he would tell me with a smile.
In Colombo, I eat chemically-treated veggies and fruits from the supermarket, and I lunch in small eateries where curries taste nothing like love.
When I turned 10, we left for my school in Kandy. We stayed in a mountain house in the chaotic city. Our Kandy house only had one kitchen. It was where we were first exposed to chemically-treated veggies. My mother didn’t have to double-check for worms or rotten parts in her bulb-shaped, dark purple eggplants anymore.
My parents relocated to their tiny house by the paddy fields. Often, I head back home for my mother’s tempered eggplant. It sometimes triggers a migraine, but I cannot resist the taste. My father is retired now. He works in the garden and cooks on the earthen fire, making me his curries with glorious green eggplants. (BBC)
Life style
Nanda Malini Ascocenda: A flower that carries the name of a legendary voice
By Ifham Nizam
A flower named after one of Sri Lanka’s most celebrated voices has become a unique tribute to the country’s cultural heritage, with the Nanda Malini Ascocenda orchid carrying the name of veteran singer Dr. Nanda Malini.
The orchid was named in honour of Nanda Malini, recognising her outstanding contribution to Sri Lankan music and culture. She is among the country’s most acclaimed singers, with a career spanning several decades and a repertoire deeply rooted in Sri Lankan social and cultural experiences.
The striking illustration, released by the Ministry of Environment on August 21, features the veteran singer surrounded by colourful orchids and musical notes, bringing together two important elements of Sri Lankan identity — the country’s rich natural heritage and its musical tradition.
The Nanda Malini Ascocenda is particularly significant because it represents an unusual meeting point between art and nature. Orchids have long been associated with Sri Lanka’s botanical wealth, while the naming of individual hybrids after distinguished personalities provides a lasting link between the country’s natural and cultural heritage.
According to published accounts, the Nanda Malini Ascocenda was named in 2004 in recognition of the singer.
A recent profile described her as possibly the only Sri Lankan artiste to have an orchid named after her by the Orchid Circle of Sri Lanka.
Nanda Malini’s contribution to music has been recognised through numerous awards. She has also performed internationally and remains one of the most recognised figures in Sri Lankan music.
Her association with songs reflecting social realities, human emotions and national identity has given her a special place in the country’s cultural landscape.
The orchid, therefore, represents more than a botanical curiosity. It is a living tribute to an artiste whose voice has accompanied generations of Sri Lankans.
The Ministry of Environment’s presentation also serves as a reminder that conservation is not limited to forests, wildlife and ecosystems. Sri Lanka’s natural heritage is closely intertwined with its history, culture, art and the people who have enriched the nation’s identity.
As the colourful blooms of the Nanda Malini Ascocenda evoke the beauty of Sri Lanka’s orchid heritage, the name attached to them ensures that the contribution of one of the country’s most distinguished musical voices continues to live on in an entirely different form — through nature itself.
Life style
The Best of Malkoha celebrates half a century of Sri Lankan ornithological writings
By Ifham Nizam
The launch of The Best of Malkoha: Half a Century of Ornithological Writings marked a significant milestone in Sri Lanka’s birdwatching and conservation history, as the Field Ornithology Group of Sri Lanka (FOGSL) celebrated its Golden Jubilee at the Faculty of Science, University of Colombo.
The book, drawn from five decades of writings published in Malkoha, the FOGSL newsletter, brings together a rich record of observations, discoveries and experiences that helped shape modern field ornithology in Sri Lanka.
The launch formed part of FOGSL’s first-ever Founders’ Day, held on August 22, a date chosen to coincide with the 76th birthday of Vidyajothi Emeritus Professor Sarath Kotagama, one of the Organisation’s founding figures and its enduring source of inspiration.
The occasion brought together academics, conservationists, naturalists, birdwatchers, students, young birders and members of FOGSL, reflecting the broad community that the organisation has cultivated since its establishment in 1976.
Biodiversity expert Dr. Rohan Pethiyagoda, delivering the Golden Jubilee Founders’ Day Oration, used the occasion to reflect on five decades of biodiversity research and conservation in Sri Lanka, while paying tribute to Professor Kotagama and the role played by FOGSL in taking birdwatching beyond a small circle of specialists.
Pethiyagoda said the organisation’s greatest achievement had been its ability to make knowledge of birds and nature accessible to ordinary people.
He recalled how, in the early 1990s, Professor Kotagama had proposed producing an affordable field guide so that birdwatching would no longer be restricted by the high cost of existing publications.
That resulted in the publication of A Field Guide to the Birds of Sri Lanka in 1994, which Pethiyagoda published and which subsequently became a bestseller.
The collaboration later produced Sri Lanka Kurulu in Sinhala, making serious bird identification and knowledge available to an even wider audience.
Pethiyagoda recalled a particularly emotional encounter that demonstrated the lasting impact of that work.
During a recent visit to Talangama to accompany Australian birdwatchers, he encountered two boys, aged around 12 and 14, carrying a battered copy of Sri Lanka Kurulu and using it to identify birds.
“I just started crying,” Pethiyagoda said, describing the moment as evidence of how knowledge had been passed from one generation to another.
- Prof Nihal Dayawansa
- Dr. Pethiyagoda
- Prof Kotagama
- Birthday celebration
He said the achievements of the past 50 years should not be underestimated. Sri Lanka has witnessed major advances in health, education, infrastructure and conservation, while the country’s protected-area network has expanded considerably.
At the same time, however, he warned that biodiversity research and conservation continue to face serious institutional challenges.
Pethiyagoda pointed to habitat fragmentation, climate change, inadequate scientific research and restrictions on field research as major challenges facing the next generation of conservationists.
He said climate change would increasingly force species to move towards cooler, higher elevations, but fragmented habitats could prevent them from making such movements.
“Our challenge now is to connect up those little fragments so that plants and animals can migrate across these landscapes,” he said, stressing the importance of restoring ecological connectivity.
He also called for greater investment in ex-situ conservation for species facing extinction and urged the establishment of conservation facilities across Sri Lanka’s different climatic zones.
Pethiyagoda placed particular emphasis on citizen science, arguing that Sri Lanka possessed an enormous reservoir of public enthusiasm for biodiversity.
He noted that more than 20,000 Sri Lankans were now involved in citizen science through platforms such as iNaturalist, with Sri Lankan users generating significant biodiversity data.
“The appetite for science, the appetite for conservation, for exploration, for discovery is there in the people,” he said.
Pethiyagoda also paid an emotional tribute to Professor Kotagama, describing him as the constant force behind much of Sri Lanka’s modern conservation movement.
“In future generations, we will talk of conservation in this country as before Kotagama and after Kotagama,” he said.
He also acknowledged Professor Kotagama’s wife, Namali, for being the “bedrock” of his household and for supporting his decades-long contribution to conservation.
The Golden Jubilee celebrations also looked back at the origins of FOGSL.
The Organisation was founded on October 10, 1976, when four passionate bird enthusiasts—the late P. B. Karunaratne, Professor S.U.K. Ekaratne, Professor Sarath Kotagama and Rex I De Silva —came together with a shared objective of making birdwatching accessible beyond the relatively exclusive group that had traditionally dominated the field.
FOGSL was subsequently formally recognised by the University of Colombo and developed as a platform bringing together birdwatchers, researchers, students, educators and nature enthusiasts.
Its philosophy was simple: one did not need an academic qualification to become a member. Enthusiasm, careful observation, recording and sharing knowledge were enough.
That principle continues to define the Organisation.
FOGSL has since become Sri Lanka’s BirdLife International partner and has played an important role in bird research, conservation, environmental education, field studies, school programmes and citizen science.
Its work has extended from research on endemic birds and migratory species to biodiversity monitoring, conservation education and programmes aimed at children and young people.
Speaking at the event, FOGSL President Professor Nihal Dayawansa said the organisation’s founding vision remained relevant even after half a century.
The Organisation, he noted, was created not simply as a birdwatching club but as a platform through which people could study and conserve Sri Lanka’s birds while inspiring the wider public to appreciate nature.
The Founders’ Day itself was described as an opportunity to honour those who established and shaped the Organisation while celebrating the contribution of generations of members.
Professor Mayuri Wijeyasinghe, Head of the Department of Zoology and Environmental Sciences, said FOGSL had given ornithology a new meaning in Sri Lanka by taking birdwatching beyond an elite community and making it accessible to ordinary people and schoolchildren.
She noted that Sri Lanka, as a tropical island with a remarkable diversity of birds and a high level of endemism, had a special responsibility to understand and conserve its avifauna.
The Dean of the Faculty of Science, Professor I.M.K. Fernando, meanwhile, said that although his own field was physics, he recognised the common foundation shared by all branches of science—curiosity.
He congratulated FOGSL on reaching 50 years and praised its contribution to research, education, student development, wetland conservation, public awareness and science-based advice on development projects.
“The work goes far beyond publishing,” he said, noting the Organisation’s lectures, school programmes, research projects and conservation initiatives.
He also paid tribute to Professor Kotagama, describing him as a legend whose influence had extended well beyond ornithology.
Professor Kotagama, speaking after receiving tributes from colleagues and friends, said the Organisation’s foundations had been laid with a belief that people could make a difference.
He stressed the importance of taking decisions based on scientific knowledge and criticised excessive bureaucratic barriers that, in his view, prevented scientists from carrying out important field research.
Reflecting on his own period as Director of Wildlife Conservation, he said he had sought to transform the Department into a scientific institution.
“For me and for us who were working in the Mahaweli environment programme at that time, we knew that if not for science, you cannot go forward in conservation,”
Professor Kotagama said, stressing that conservation required both natural and social sciences.
He recalled the challenges faced by the Department, including inadequate staffing structures and poor career progression for wildlife officers, and said efforts had been made to introduce a more professional and scientifically grounded system.
The 50-year journey of FOGSL is closely intertwined with the development of modern field ornithology in Sri Lanka.
From the early days when birdwatching was largely confined to a small group of specialists, the Organisation helped create a culture in which students, schoolchildren, amateur birdwatchers and citizen scientists could contribute to the understanding of the country’s biodiversity.
The launch of The Best of Malkoha, therefore, served as more than the unveiling of another publication. It was a record of that transformation.
The writings collected in the volume represent five decades of observations and experiences, documenting how Sri Lankan field ornithology evolved through the work of generations of birdwatchers, researchers and conservationists.
As theOorganisation enters its next half century, the message emerging from the Golden Jubilee celebrations was clear: the future of conservation will depend not only on institutions and scientists but also on an informed and empowered public.
FOGSL’s enduring motto—”Once a member, always a member”—perhaps best captures that legacy: a lifelong connection with birds, nature, scientific observation and the responsibility to protect Sri Lanka’s extraordinary natural heritage.
Life style
Heart that beats for humanity
Dr. Rajitha de Silva
By Zanita Careem
Dr. Rajitha Y. de Silva, Consultant Cardiothoracic Surgeon and Consultant at Sri Jayewardenepura General Hospital, has built a distinguished career around one of medicine’s most demanding discipline – surgery of the heart. With his expertise, precision and pioneering spirit, he has become closely associated with the advancement of Minimally Invasive Cardiac surgery in Sri Lanka. He joined Sri Jayewardenpura General Hospital in 2013 and is today recognised as a pioneer of Minimally Invasive Cardiacs procedures in the country.
He is particulary recognised as a pioneer of mimimallyinvasive surgery in Sri lanka,with experience in procedures including minimally invasive coronary surgery and mitral valve repair. He is recognition as a leading figure in the advancement of modern cardiac surgery in the country. With years of specialised training and experience behind him, Dr de Silva has built a reputation in cardiothoracic surgery while remaining deeply conscious of the human story behind every patient who enters the operating theatre. For him, the beating heart is more than an organ to be repaired – it represents a life, a family, a future and a second chance.
His commitment to patients extends well beyond the operating theatre. Having witnessed the financial hardships faced by heart patients who desperately needed surgery but could not afford it. Dr de Silva, together with Senior Cardiologist Dr. Ruwan Ekanayake, co-founded the Heart to Heart Trust Fund.
The initiative was created with a powerful objective, that no patient should be denied life saving cardiac treatment simply because of financial difficulties.
Perhaps one of the most striking aspects of Dr de Silva’s personality is that his concern for patients does not end when the operation is over. His vision has included creating initiatives that make the difficult journey of cardiac patients more humane, giving them encouragement, dignity and hope during a period when they are often at their most vulnerable. Abayadhana was born from a simple but powerful conviction that every patient deserves a chance to live.
Through the Abayadhana programme, he represents his compassionate approach to caring for people who need not only medical attention, but also understanding, encouragement and support. What makes this initiative particularity meaningful is the personal commitment behind it. It reflects his belief that healing is not only about medicine, but about reaching out to people when they are most vulnerable.
Away from the intensity of the operating theatre, Dr. Rajitha de Silva finds another kind of joy – his passion for cricket over the years; he has taken the field in numerous matches, playing alongside and against many well known personalties.
Dr. Rajitha de Silva’s journey is guided by compassion and success anchored in humanity. From pioneering milestones in cardiac surgery to the Heart to Heart Trust Fund and the Abayadhana initiative, he has continued to give back to the people whose lives he touches. His love for cricket, his warmth and generosity reveal the heart behind the healing hands.
A surgeon by profession, a humanitarian by choice and a cricketer by heart, Dr. Rajitha’s greatest legacy may not be measured only by the operations he has performed, but by the lives he has changed, the hope he has restored and the hearts he has touched.
The trustees of the Heart to Heart Trust Fund stand united behind the mission of saving lives and giving hope. Their collective commitment helps turn the Trust’s vision into meaningful support for patients and families in need
The Executive Director, Heart to Heart Trust Fund, Shanti Fernando, plays a hands on role in turning the Trust’s vision into action, coordinating efforts, and bringing hope where it is needed.
Behind Dr. Rajitha de Silva’s demanding life is his wife, Dr. Arunie, and children, who has been his strength and support.
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