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Reimagining Dutugemunu : A Problem of interpretation

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By Uditha Devapriya

The interpretation of historical chronicles presents an intriguing challenge for the modern scholar and writer. The main problem, as it stands, lies in terminology. Words present no challenge to the translator, but to the historian and the archaeologist, it is not enough to translate; it is more important to contextualise. That is why contemporary interpretations of historical narratives often go on a tangent: they try to essentialise and in doing so end up imputing contemporary meanings to archaic and pre-modern ideas.

In Sri Lanka the two main such narratives would be the Dipavamsa and the Mahavamsa, the latter more than the former. Here the issue of interpretation is somewhat compounded by the fact that these two works are among the oldest and most credible of their kind in South Asia, indeed probably the most important such documents for any historian of the region or of surrounding regions like South-East Asia. The Mahavamsa alone is a useful compendium of the social and economic relations that prevailed before the advent of Buddhism in the 3rd century BC and the advent of Vijaya in the 6th. Among other things, it presents an early example of the colonisation myth, in the form of the Vijaya-Kuveni legend.

The myth itself is presented as a sequel to two other historical events, Gautama Buddha’s three visits to Sri Lanka, and the convening of the Three Buddhist Councils after his passing away or parinibbana. There is then a break of sorts in the narrative after these incidents when the story, as such, shifts to the Sinhabahu myth, which in my opinion, to put it rather crudely, is no more and no less than an Indianised – or Asianised if you will – version of the Oedipal myth. Origin and colonisation myths are strewn with three elements: guilt, incest, and parricide. Vijaya’s birth, visit to Lanka, and his subsequent actions in the island involve all three. Guilt, in fact, lies at the heart of the Kohomba Kankariya, which is a ritual centred on the quest for absolution for what Vijaya does to Kuveni.

Here we need to be mindful of an important point. The authors of the Dipavamsa and the Mahavamsa may have worked from an oral tradition, but that tradition is so replete with common motifs, themes, and problematics – the main problematic being, in my view, the question of how to legitimise, or authenticate, the purist claims of the monarchs of Lanka when these monarchs traced their origins to a neighbouring country – that it is difficult not to be swayed and dazzled by them. Even the historian and archaeologist feel tempted, from time to time, to overlook the mythical aspects of these stories.

It is against this backdrop that we must examine the main historical problem of the Pali Chronicles, namely the problem of what meanings to ascribe to the stories and concepts employed by their authors. We need to be aware that meanings of words change from time to time, era to era, and that, as I mentioned in my earlier article on Alan Keenan’s point about Sinhala (and non-Sinhala) names, ascribing contemporary meanings to archaic terms is a crime of which the most ardent nationalist is as guilty as the most fervent liberal. This is why both groups, opponents though they are, tend to get it wrong, very wrong, over the more controversial stories in these narratives, and the question of interpreting them. Chief among them, in my view, would be Dutugemunu’s defeat of Elara.

There are two reasons why Dutugemunu’s conquest has become the most misinterpreted historical episode – I hesitate to use the word myth because, as Gananath Obeyesekere has reminded us, Dutugemunu was an actual historical personage – in Sri Lanka. Firstly, it is to Dutugemunu that nationalist ideologues, those propounding an exclusivist interpretation of Buddhism and those considering Sri Lanka as Buddhism’s last haven – turn, to validate if not legitimise their claims. In their reading, Dutugemunu is a saviour-king, a great unifier whose actions can only be emulated, but never quite equalled: hence the tendency to adulate later unifier-monarchs, like Parakramabahu I, along Dutugemunist lines. As Newton Gunasinghe and Nalin de Silva – occupying different ideological grounds – has reminded us regarding this, the Dutugemunu story contradicts the universalism of Buddhism by grounding it in Sri Lanka and specifically among Sinhala speaking communities.

The Newton-Nalin congruence is interesting. It leads me to my second point, which is that the failure of interpretation, or misinterpretation, in the Dutugemunu story, or specifically the Dutugemunu-Elara encounter, is not merely the nationalist ideologue’s, but also his or her liberal opponent’s. For both groups, the Dutugemunist reading of history contrasts with another variant of Buddhism. Nalin de Silva, for instance, contrast Dutugemunist Buddhism (DB) with Olcott Buddhism (OB), which is then contrasted with the missionary zeal of the foremost Buddhist propagandist of 20th century Sri Lanka, Anagarika Dharmapala. In other words, historical stories and chronicles are used to justify the superiority of an exclusionary variant of Buddhism over a more universalist and all-encompassing one.

The liberal rejoinder to the nationalist reconstruction of the Dutugemunu story is, simply, that Dutugemunu’s actions, particularly his defeat of Elara, his momentary remorse over the deaths of his opponents, and his recovery from remorse through the intervention of a group of Buddhist monks, suggest an absence of empathy associated with Buddhist monarchs, of whom the supreme figurehead would have to be Asoka Maurya. Here, it is interesting to note and acknowledge that, like their nationalist opponents, liberal commentators resort to a common set of assumptions when commenting on such stories: prime among them, that the wars depicted in these stories were between two racial groups and not, as the likes of R. A. L. H. Gunawardana and H. L. Seneviratne have argued, two dynastic ones.

The episode involving Dutugemunu’s confessions of guilt to a Buddhist monk, and the Buddhist monk’s blanket absolution of the hero-king, is a case in point. What we see here is not so much a contradiction but an inversion of a similar episode from Asoka’s life, after the Kalinga War. The contradiction is so patently visible that it’s hard not to judge the episode without summoning a contrast with its Indian equivalent, or dis-equivalent. Nationalists may argue, as many of them indeed do, that Dutugemunu’s recovery from remorse indicates the sacrosanct nature of Buddhism as is practised in Sri Lanka: no matter what, even if it takes the murder of thousands or millions, the king’s foremost duty is to preserve the faith of the land. In fact, the author of the Mahavamsa, putting words into Dutugemunu’s mouth, argue that this takes precedence over “the sovereignty of the State.”

Liberal scholars, conversely, would contend that this episode provides a justification of ethnic cleansing, genocide, the murder of one’s own subjects in the interests of a faith or the State, and so on. This, like the nationalist argument, is not entirely without its merits. But it depends on how you look at the words and terms, or assumptions, underlying such stories. The question to ask here is, are we looking at history through an historical lens, depriving entire episodes and stories of their specificity in the interests of certain political and cultural biases – nationalist or liberal, exclusivist or cosmopolitan? I would say so. But the issue isn’t about agreeing or disagreeing with this notion of history; it is about coming up with a solution that address the concerns of both ideological groups.

The solution I propose is hardly a radical or innovative one, but it is the best one there is. While agreeing with Gananath Obeyesekere’s polemic against interpreting these stories in a too literal light – an approach which, as he rightly notes, paves the road to fundamentalism of the sort that has bedevilled this country for the last 75 years – I would note that we need to ground them in the way in which they were related, imagined, or witnessed at the time of their recounting. Another feasible solution would be to prioritise inscriptional evidence over literary texts: even though there are convergences between the two (the historical actuality of Dutugemunu’s personage), there are also significant divergences (the arrival of Vijaya). In other words, we need to be aware of the mythical connotations of historical narratives and compare, and contrast, them with actual archaeological evidence.

I am aware, however, of a problem – one noted for me by a renowned political analyst and commentator. The issue with interpreting stories like Dutugemunu’s defeat of Elara and his recovery from remorse with the aid of a Buddhist monk, at one level, linguistic: we need to be careful when using terms whose meanings change dramatically from era to era. At the same time, as linguists themselves will tell you, some words have meanings that transcend specificity, context, space and time, geography, history. What, then, do we make of a monk who, after hearing Dutugemunu’s confession, assures him that “from this deed arises no hindrance in thy way to heaven”? Certain episodes can be grounded in a specific period and excused on the basis of their specificity. Certain others, like the extermination of six million Jews, cannot. The problem for me is, where does Dutugemunu belong?

The writer is an international relations analyst, researcher, and columnist who can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com.



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Tusker Kavantissa’s death exposes Sri Lanka’s wildlife conservation crisis

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Kavantissa

by Prof. Ranjith Bandara,
Emeritus Professor, University of Colombo

This article examines why community exclusion, excessive bureaucratic control, unequal distribution of conservation benefits, weak institutional accountability, and short-sighted political leadership continue to undermine wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka.

The death of Tusker Kavantissa is more than the loss of one of Sri Lanka’s most remarkable wild elephants. It exposes uncomfortable questions about how we protect our natural heritage, how conservation decisions are made, and why repeated warnings have failed to produce meaningful reforms. His death should compel us to examine not only what happened to one extraordinary animal, but also the deeper weaknesses in our wildlife conservation system.

Tusker Kavantissa, one of Sri Lanka’s most prominent wild tuskers, died on 16 October, 2026, after receiving veterinary treatment for an injury, reportedly caused by gunfire. Although the wound had shown some improvement, his health subsequently deteriorated. The precise cause of death requires confirmation through a proper post-mortem examination. Nevertheless, the circumstances raise serious questions about preventive protection, wildlife management, and institutional preparedness.

The wider picture is equally disturbing. According to recently reported figures, Sri Lanka has lost an average of approximately 402 elephants and 138 people annually, since 2019, due to human–elephant conflict. These figures reflect a continuing national tragedy affecting both wildlife and rural communities.

What Sri Lanka faces today is not merely a wildlife conservation problem. It is also a crisis of environmental governance, shaped by institutional weaknesses, political decisions, and the failure to recognise the economic and social realities of conservation.

Conservation without communities

One of the fundamental weaknesses of our conservation approach is that local communities are often treated as subjects of regulation rather than partners in conservation. They are expected to bear the risks, respect restrictions, and cooperate with government programmes, yet their influence over decisions affecting their lives remains limited.

For rural families living alongside wild elephants, conservation is not an abstract environmental objective. It directly affects their safety, agricultural income, property, and everyday lives.

Farmers frequently possess valuable knowledge about elephant movements, vulnerable locations, seasonal changes, and practical protection measures. Yet conservation interventions are sometimes designed without adequately considering this experience.

When decisions are imposed from above, communities may feel excluded from programmes they are expected to support. This weakens trust, reduces cooperation, and ultimately undermines conservation outcomes.

We must recognise that protecting elephants and protecting farmers are not conflicting objectives. Both are essential. A conservation policy that safeguards wildlife while neglecting human security cannot be considered successful.

The real challenge is to replace conservation imposed on communities with conservation undertaken alongside them. Meaningful participation requires more than consultation meetings. Communities must have a genuine role in planning, implementing, monitoring, and evaluating conservation activities.

Bureaucratic authority versus public accountability

Wildlife conservation requires strong institutions, professional expertise, and effective regulations. However, excessive bureaucratic control can become an obstacle when administrative authority takes precedence over practical outcomes.

Decision-making in Sri Lanka’s conservation system remains heavily dependent on central institutions. Administrative procedures, overlapping responsibilities, and limited coordination can delay responses to urgent problems.

More importantly, excessive centralisation can discourage local innovation and prevent communities from contributing practical solutions.

When administrative authority becomes more important than results, conservation risks becoming an exercise in controlling people rather than protecting nature.

This criticism should not be confused with questioning the dedication of frontline wildlife officers and veterinarians. Many work under difficult conditions with limited resources. The efforts undertaken to save Tusker Kavantissa deserve recognition.

However, individual commitment cannot compensate indefinitely for institutional weaknesses.

We must ask whether our conservation institutions have the capacity to identify risks early, protect vulnerable animals, coordinate emergency responses, and evaluate the effectiveness of their interventions.

Public accountability should, therefore, extend beyond compliance with administrative procedures to measurable conservation outcomes.

Who bears costs, and who receives benefits?

Perhaps the most neglected dimension of wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka is the unequal distribution of its economic costs and benefits.

Wild elephants contribute substantially to tourism, biodiversity, cultural heritage, and the country’s international image. Their conservation generates benefits enjoyed by society as a whole.

Yet the financial and personal costs are concentrated among rural communities living within elephant habitats.

A study published in 2023, involving 300 farming households in southern Sri Lanka, revealed a striking imbalance. Although these households lived near two national parks, none received economic benefits from tourism. Meanwhile, 57 percent had experienced elephant-related crop damage.

The findings raise a fundamental economic question: if the entire country benefits from elephant conservation, why should a relatively small and vulnerable section of society bear a disproportionate share of its costs?

Conservation cannot remain economically sustainable when its benefits are widely enjoyed but its costs are concentrated among those least able to bear them.

A separate study, published in 2024, involving 439 affected farming households, examined the possibility of financing compensation through tourism revenue. It demonstrated the potential for tourism-based financial mechanisms to support human–elephant coexistence.

The policy implications are significant

A proportion of wildlife tourism revenue could be directed towards affected communities through transparent benefit-sharing arrangements. Such measures could support compensation, village protection, local employment, community enterprises, and agricultural improvements.

However, financial compensation alone is insufficient. The 2023 study also indicated that fear of elephants and concerns about crop damage strongly influenced community attitudes. People must feel safe in their homes and farms, not merely receive payment after suffering losses.

Equitable benefit-sharing is, therefore, more than an act of generosity. It is an economic and social requirement for sustainable conservation.

Political decisions and absence of long-term vision

The weaknesses in wildlife conservation cannot be attributed solely to public officials. Political leadership must accept its share of responsibility.

Poor land-use planning, habitat fragmentation, obstruction of elephant movement corridors, and development decisions that inadequately consider environmental consequences have contributed to human–elephant conflict.

Political decisions made for immediate gains can create environmental and economic costs lasting for decades.

Another weakness is the preference for visible, short-term interventions.

Constructing electric fences, relocating elephants, and launching emergency operations can attract considerable publicity. However, such interventions should be evaluated according to their effectiveness, not their visibility.

Political leadership should be judged not by the number of conservation programmes announced, but by the lives protected, conflicts prevented, and long-term improvements achieved.

There is also a serious problem of policy continuity. Conservation cannot be governed according to electoral cycles or changing political priorities.

Elephant habitats, migration patterns, and ecological processes do not change with governments. Successful conservation, therefore, requires consistent national commitments extending beyond individual political administrations.

Without such continuity, public investment may be wasted while the underlying problems remain unresolved.

Problem is not always a lack of policy

Sri Lanka’s conservation crisis cannot be explained simply by a shortage of scientific knowledge or policy recommendations.

In many instances, the greater challenge lies in translating available knowledge into coordinated, adequately funded, and politically supported action.

The National Action Plan for the Mitigation of Human–Elephant Conflict, prepared in 2020, proposed a science-based approach that emphasised community participation, protection of villages and agricultural land, and more effective conflict-management strategies.

Yet an important question remains: how much of this plan has been implemented successfully?

Have implementation difficulties arisen from inadequate resources, weak institutional coordination, administrative resistance, or insufficient political commitment?

An independent assessment of the plan’s implementation would help identify these obstacles and establish clear responsibilities.

We must also recognise that a substantial proportion of Sri Lanka’s wild elephants live outside protected areas. Attempting to confine all elephants within national parks and forest reserves is, therefore, neither realistic nor sustainable.

Effective conservation requires land-use policies informed by elephant ecology, settlement patterns, agricultural needs, and the practical realities of human–wildlife coexistence.

A sound policy that remains largely unimplemented offers little protection to either elephants or people.

Towards more responsible conservation system

Sri Lanka needs a fundamental change in how wildlife conservation is governed.

Four priorities deserve immediate attention.

First, local communities must become genuine partners in conservation management, with meaningful responsibilities and decision-making opportunities.

Second, conservation benefits must be distributed more fairly. Wildlife tourism should contribute directly to protecting the livelihoods and safety of communities that bear conservation costs.

Third, existing national conservation plans should be independently reviewed to identify implementation gaps and establish a realistic timetable for corrective action.

Fourth, conservation institutions must become more accountable for measurable outcomes, including reductions in human deaths, elephant mortality, crop losses, and property damage.

These reforms require cooperation among wildlife, forestry, agriculture, land, irrigation, and local government institutions.

They also demand political leadership willing to prioritise long-term results over short-term publicity.

For exceptional animals, such as Tusker Kavantissa, improved risk monitoring, preventive protection, and timely veterinary responses are particularly important. However, conservation should not be limited to protecting a few well-known animals.

Every wild elephant has ecological value, just as every person living alongside elephants has an equal right to safety.

The objective must be a system that protects both.

Lesson tusker Kavantissa leaves behind

The death of Tusker Kavantissa should not become another moment of national sorrow that gradually fades from public memory. It should mark a turning point in how Sri Lanka approaches wildlife conservation.

A proper investigation into his death is essential. Equally important is an honest examination of the conservation system within which such tragedies continue to occur.

The real challenge is not choosing between people and elephants. It is creating a system in which both can coexist safely, and where the responsibilities, costs, and benefits of conservation are shared fairly.

This requires more than scientific expertise and stronger regulations. It demands accountable institutions, meaningful community participation, economic fairness, and political leadership guided by a clear long-term vision.

Our greatest failure would not be the loss of Tusker Kavantissa alone. It would be allowing the same weaknesses in our conservation system to claim more lives while we continue to avoid the reforms that could prevent them.

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Equality before the Law as foundation of Sri Lanka’s recovery

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Gnanasara Thera brought to court, dressed in lay attire

by Jehan Perera

The government appears set to overcome the first major challenge to one of its foundational principles. It has faced down demands from sections of the Buddhist clergy and opposition parties to release Ven. Galagodaatte Gnanasara from his prison sentence for contempt of court.

Ven Gnanasara is best known as the general secretary of the Bodu Bala Sena, a nationalist Sinhala grouping. The government seemed unfazed by a protest march organised by Buddhist monks and the opposition parties and its supporters organised an even bigger march to support the government’s position. It is notable that the general population did not get involved in either march in any substantial number. The issue has now become a test of whether the government will uphold its commitment to apply the law equally, irrespective of a person’s position or status, even when doing so brings it into conflict with a powerful constituency.

The case has a specific legal history. Ven. Gnanasara was sentenced to six years’ imprisonment by the Court of Appeal in 2018 for contempt of court in a case involving former military personnel where he disrupted the proceedings. The Supreme Court rejected his appeal in 2018. Former President Maithripala Sirisena subsequently granted him a presidential pardon in 2019. Last month, the Supreme Court invalidated that pardon. The initial demand by Buddhist monks and their lay supporters was that Ven. Gnanasara should be permitted to wear his Buddhist robes when appearing in public before the courts. The government has indicated its willingness to examine the procedures governing the treatment of Buddhist monks in prison, in consultation with the relevant religious authorities. However, the initial demand has now been escalated into a demand for a presidential pardon.

One of the central promises of the National People’s Power (NPP) during its election campaign two years ago was to apply the law equally to all. This commitment has shaped the government’s approach to allegations of corruption and criminality involving individuals who previously wielded political power. The NPP government was swept into power on a wave of antipathy towards those in previous governments who were perceived to have abused their positions for private gain. The economic collapse Sri Lanka experienced in 2022, and the hardships endured across society, remain vivid in the public memory. The past two years have seen the government pursuing those accused of corruption and other offences. Several high-ranking members of previous governments have faced arrest and legal proceedings and been sentenced to jail.

Religious Concerns

The ability of opposition parties to mobilise widespread resistance against proceedings involving their leaders has been limited, as much of the general population continues to favour accountability for past financial crimes. However, the case of Ven. Gnanasara is different. It does not concern allegations of financial corruption, but the relationship between religious authority, the courts and the law of the land. This is where the distinction between respecting religious traditions and upholding the law becomes crucial. There is a sense among sections of the general population that Buddhist monks should not be treated on a par with others and that requiring Ven. Gnanasara to appear in court without his robes was unjust and contrary to the national ethos. Such sentiments reflect the special place Buddhism occupies in Sri Lanka’s history and society. Sinhala Buddhist nationalism has been a potent political force throughout the country’s history, drawing on a heritage that extends back more than two millennia. The question is whether respect for Buddhism needs to also entail the exemption of individual monks from the ordinary requirements of the law and thereby treat them differently.

The challenge would be to accommodate legitimate religious concerns through rational and lawful procedures without allowing religious status to become a source of legal privilege. The government has been amenable to addressing the issue of monastic robes, but has so far resisted the demand to release Ven. Gnanasara through a new pardon. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake and government members have made it clear that the government would not bend the law to accommodate any individual. They have taken the position that any shortcomings in existing rules should be addressed by changing the rules through proper procedures, rather than by making an exception for a particular individual. If the government holds its position, it will demonstrate that its commitment to the rule of law extends even to constituencies that have historically enjoyed considerable political influence.

This is important not only for the country’s democratic institutions but also for its economic future. Sri Lanka is seeking to recover from its economic collapse and establish the foundations for sustained growth. The International Monetary Fund’s analysis of Sri Lanka’s governance weaknesses has repeatedly emphasised the economic costs of corruption and institutional deficiencies. Its 2024 analysis of governance and growth concluded that comprehensive and coherent reforms could bring significant macroeconomic benefits. The IMF’s 2025 assessment also highlighted the importance of sustained governance reforms in unlocking the country’s growth potential. Investors, both domestic and foreign, need confidence that public institutions function according to predictable rules, that contracts and property rights are protected, and that political connections or social status will not determine how the law is applied.

Sensitive Issue

Sri Lanka has long sought the leap towards prosperity that has proved elusive under successive governments. Economic reform alone will not achieve it. The connection between the rule of law and economic prosperity is direct. Businesses are more likely to invest when they can expect disputes to be resolved fairly, public resources to be managed transparently and regulatory decisions to be made on rational grounds. No country can achieve a durable economic take-off if its institutions are perceived to operate according to political favour, inherited privilege or communal pressure. Sri Lanka cannot afford to return to a political culture in which powerful interests are shielded from accountability while ordinary citizens bear the costs.

Changing a political culture that has evolved over the decades if not centuries is a difficult undertaking, particularly in a country where political leaders have long relied on religious and communal identities to consolidate their support. It requires not only firmness but also sensitivity, dialogue and a willingness to reform laws and institutions where genuine deficiencies exist. The present controversy offers an opportunity to demonstrate that these objectives need not be in conflict. The government can respect the Buddhist clergy’s concerns about the treatment of monks in prison while refusing to grant an individual an exemption from a judicial sentence. It can recognise the importance of Buddhism to the country while maintaining that no religious or political authority stands above the law.

The question is whether national traditions and ethos are interpreted in ways that strengthen justice, responsibility and social harmony, or invoked to defend privileges that undermine them. The country needs a transformation in public expectations from privilege to accountability, from communal claims to equal citizenship, and from personal discretion to institutions governed by law.

The government’s handling of the case involving Ven. Gnanasara is therefore about more than one monk or one sentence. This particular case will determine whether the government can build a system in which no government, religious authority or politically influential individuals can place themselves beyond the law. A just society must be able to honour both its traditions and its commitment to equality before the law.

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Lure of old hometown too hard to resist

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Highly adaptive one-man band / At Broadway Dehiwela on 24th October

Lanka was his homeland, and now it’s Australia, based in Sydney. But for legendary performer Roger Menezes, the lure of his old hometown is just too hard to resist — and he keeps coming this way, ever so often!

Roger is in town at the moment — his fourth trip for this year alone! In fact, for the last few years, he has been checking out Sri Lanka on a very frequent basis.

This time, he says, he will be here for just two weeks, as he has heavy commitments, Down Under, as a performer.

On the 24th of this month, he will be seen in action at Broadway Dehiwela, celebrating their second anniversary. It’s a homecoming of sorts, as he was the very first artiste to perform live at this venue, on their opening night!

He goes back to Sydney in November for an early Christmas party, and will be back, in Colombo, in December, for more performances, with a pre-New Year’s Eve party at the Broadway, on 30th December.

Roger says he also takes the opportunity, whenever he visits Sri Lanka, to soak in the beauty of our country, especially the serene scenes away from the hustle and bustle of Colombo!

Roger Menezes: Fourth trip for this year

Roger Menezes is truly a remarkable talent, and it is always a sheer pleasure to look into the careers of musicians who have left such a lasting, indelible mark on Sri Lanka’s rich musical heritage.

Known for his signature “hits and memories” performance style — a nostalgic, heart-warming blend of jazz, pop, and classic rock — he remains a foundational figure of Sri Lanka’s golden era of music.

He was deeply integrated into Colombo’s swinging 1960s and 70s music scene.

He played drums for iconic groups like The Savages, Thunderbirds, and Fireflies, played guitar for Sam the Man, and joined the legendary band The Jetliners as their keyboardist, saxophonist, and guitarist (additionally recording bass guitar tracks). He also fronted his own much-loved ensemble, Roger and the Webs.

He migrated to Sydney, Australia, in the early ’70s and the legend only grew.

In Australia, he founded the highly successful corporate and event bands Eastern Spice and Stay Tuned (alongside his wife Cheryl and family). Under his leadership, Stay Tuned was heavily involved in providing entertainment for corporate functions, organised by the Sydney 2000 Olympic Committee. The group also headlined the New Year’s Eve festivities at Sydney’s iconic Centrepoint Tower for five consecutive years!

Today, he is widely celebrated as a highly adaptive one-man band, simultaneously navigating vocals, keyboards, guitar, saxophone, and drums — a one-man orchestra who truly does it all!

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