Features

Sri Lanka under British rule : Neither Gemeinschaft nor Gesellschaft

Published

4 years ago

2023/03/24

By Uditha Devapriya

Since at least Marx and Malinowski, anthropologists have been fascinated by, and focused on, the links between “primitive-tribal” and “modern-secular” societies. I use these terms with a pinch of salt – hence the asterisks – for the simple reason that no society can be said to fit one case or the other. In its initial phase the social sciences did, admittedly, distinguish between the two, and took the teleological position that the one would lead to another: hence Ferdinand Tönnies’s idea of a progression from Gemeinschaft to Gesellschaft. Such progressions were depicted as long, eventual, but inevitable, and were accepted widely at a time when Europe, the harbinger of industrialisation and colonialism, had consolidated its position as the main, if not sole, locomotive of world history.

I have pointed out earlier, in this column, that Europe’s encounters with the non-West – Africa and Asia, basically – did not spur the kind of transition from tribalism to modernity which the most benighted missionary and colonial official had publicly advocated. This was no less true in India than it was in Sri Lanka. To give a simple and much used example, upon their annexation of Kandy, the colonial government did not do away with the caste-based duty system, and corvee labour, at once. Unlike scholars and romantics who envisioned a supposedly nobler role for the colonising West, the administrators and officials working on the ground saw the need to retain precapitalist, and thus primitive, social relations, in order to legitimise their rule over the newly acquired territories.

One discerns an intriguing, if fundamental, disconnect or contradiction here, between the supposed aims and the actual, lived experience of colonial rule. If the objective of colonial rule was indeed to transform the societies they had acquired by force and compulsion, then the relationship between the coloniser and colonised had to go beyond the position of mere dependence which colonised territories were subjected to. We know, however, that this was never the case. India, for instance, accounted for a quarter of the world’s industrial production, and British rule smothered its textile sector in the interests of ensuring a market for British textile exports. What this reveals is that, regardless of what scholars at the time may have believed, the West was primarily interested in sabotaging the national industries of the non-West, rather than in transforming their societies.

It was the destruction of these industries, as well as official patronage of precapitalist social relations, especially in regions like Kandy, that hindered the long progression from tribalism to modernity which the likes of Tönnies, Durkheim, and Henry Maine advocated. The latter were, strictly speaking, not propagandists or mouthpieces for colonialism: it would be wrong to consider them so on the basis of their Western and European background alone. But they were products of their time, and in their time the Western view of non-Western countries gradually being subsumed by colonialism and then developing into capitalist and modernist societies was more or less accepted. Even Marx, in his initial despatches on India, pondered whether British colonialism would beneficially impact that country’s historical and economic trajectory. Of course, Marx later changed his position, proving himself an exception.

In any case, these processes ran their course more discernibly, and thoroughly, in Sri Lanka than they did in India, where, perhaps because of its size or its plurality, colonial rule did not, and could not, destroy its industrial base or pre-empt the formation of an industrial (and somewhat anti-imperialist) bourgeoisie. In Sri Lanka, by contrast, British rule managed successfully to hinder the progression from feudalism to capitalism, thereby preventing it from achieving a transition from “tribalism” to “modernity.”

Since I have reflected on these concerns in my recent essay on Maduwanwela Dissawe and the temples of the South, I will limit my analysis here to another area where colonial rule had an undeniably distinct, and paradoxical, impact on local society.

Education had long been viewed, even by the Portuguese, and more prominently by the Dutch, as a useful instrument for the consolidation of colonial power. The Dutch, through their network of parish schools, were interested more in eradicating Portuguese power – with little to no effect, as the enduring popularity of Catholicism, even today, illustrates – than in educating local elites. The latter objective formed the cornerstone of British policy on education, particularly after the Colebrooke-Cameron reforms of 1833.

The British government was itself not in one mind over education, and it was hardly in agreement with missionary enclaves who were interested more in converting locals to their specific brand or denomination. But by and large, a sort of tacit understanding developed between the two that these schools would inculcate Western values, and educate a class of locals who could staff the civil administrative service.

The first British officials to set foot in Kandy – among them, John Davy – were demonstrably surprised at the state of education there. Products of elite public schools and universities themselves, they were astonished by how much of a widespread institution education had become in the highlands, administered by the pansalas and limited to the male population. In Britain at the time, education had become the preserve of the old aristocracy and an emerging bourgeoisie. It was this model, based fundamentally on filtration theory – or the entrenchment of a minority, to the exclusion of the masses – which British officials sought to enforce in the island. By contrast, missionary bodies were interested in taking their gospel as far as possible, even preaching it in the vernacular. Yet even though they were in conflict with the government’s more utilitarian approach to education, over the years they conformed to that approach while pursuing their own objectives.

For obvious and logical reasons, the institutions of a colonial society – the superstructure, to borrow Marxist terminology – acutely reflect, or appropriate, that society’s economic base. In Sri Lanka, colonialism had transformed if not transmogrified precapitalist social relations without fundamentally challenging them: hence the government’s decision to retain rather than overhaul caste and rajakariya, and hence its decision to co-opt rather than eradicate the Kandyan aristocracy. Within such a setup, a transition from tribalism to modernity was simply not possible, particularly after the grafting of a plantation economy which reduced the peasantry to a position of dependence while undercutting them through the import of cheap, indentured, and perpetually exploited labour from South India.

It goes without saying that this setup was well reflected in the schools and other educational institutions that the colonial State established in the mid-19th century. How so? First and foremost, these schools reaffirmed the colonial State’s advocacy, and enforcement, of elite filtration, or education for a minority as opposed to the masses. In areas like Kandy, the State did not interfere when missionary bodies set up schools, because it provided them with the opportunity to educate the children of native elites and European planters. The colonial State itself did not own the kind of “superior” schools that missionary bodies did: it had the Colombo Academy, but that was in Colombo. Elsewhere, as far as the aims of the State and missionary enclaves went, laissez-faire ruled the day. Individual governors may have held views that were antithetical to the aims of these enclaves, but again, such rifts were temporary, and were in any case resolved by succeeding governors.

Secondly, the curriculum of these schools was, in comparison to the needs of a society that had yet not industrialised, hardly modern or progressive. The students of these institutions not only learnt the literature, history, and culture of a society far removed from them, their very education distanced them from the society to which they had been born. This had the dual effect of distancing themselves from their roots while failing to root them in the society of the “mother country”, or the metropole. James d’Alwis’s memoirs, in which he recounts the pressure to conform and uproot himself that he experienced at the Colombo Academy, illustrate this dilemma well. Many years later, Ralph Pieris could recount his childhood at the Academy – by then renamed Royal College – in just about the same terms. I quote him in full, simply because it sheds light on what these schools stood for.

“The Ceylon schools supported an authoritarian regime in the classroom where the rod was not spared, idealised ‘manly’ sports such as boxing and rugger, while a disciplined military apprenticeship was provided by the cadet battalion. Many adults have hankering fixation on school life, the joys of cricket; and masochistic adoration or the father-figures of teachers. even if they were responsible for sadistic and humiliating physical chastisement… All too frequently I have witnessed the tragicomic spectacle of elderly men leading a hollow existence, pitiful spectators of sports they can no longer actively participate in, who have rejoiced only in the transient marvel of their physical strength, [to] discover in later life that their range has become restricted and their interests few.”

Ralph Pieris, Sociology as a Calling: A Desultory Memoir

Modern Sri Lanka Studies, Vol. 3, No. 2, 1988, pp 1-33

Pieris’s observation leads me to my third point, which is that the elitism engendered and perpetuated by these institutions continued long after colonial rule, and in fact continues today. There are, of course, important differences between colonial and post-colonial society. The right to vote, and free education, emancipated the masses from the fields or “avocations” to which the colonial State had restricted them. These developments were not wholeheartedly accepted by the elite of the day: in criticising the Central School System, for instance, a member of the Colombo upper class remarked that the new schools would never be as good as the elite ones. Yet such reforms had in themselves been necessitated by the right to vote, and could not be prevented or pre-empted. Despite the machinations of the English-speaking bourgeoisie – which either accepted these reforms or chose to migrate from the country – free education became well established, even in the schools which they had attended, and to which many of them continued sending their sons.

In my essay on the Royal College Hostel, published last August, I noted that independence brought about a transfer of power from the legatees of British power to an indigenous class. In elite schools, I added, this transfer was not so much from the upper echelons to the lower classes as it was from an elite to an upward aspiring petty bourgeoisie, or intermediate elite. Such transformations did not fundamentally put to question, much less challenge, the elitist structures that had been implanted in these establishments by the British government. This is why Pieris’s memoirs paint an accurate picture of these institutions, not just from his time but also from ours: Pieris’s description of past pupils’ “hankering fixation on school life, the joys of cricket” and of “elderly men leading a hollow existence, pitiful spectators or sports they can no longer actively participate in”, to give one example, is amply visible at the many matches, parades, and functions organised by these schools today.

All this goes back to my original point, that British rule did not liberate colonial societies, like ours, from our tribalist past. A careful examination of the institutions which were set up by colonial officials here, during that period, should make that much clear. The transition from colonial to post-colonial society has not really challenged the status quo. If at all, it has only substituted the domination of one social class for that of another: the petty bourgeoisie, for the Anglicised colonial elite. Against such a backdrop, it behoves us to ask what exactly must be done to ensure, not merely the eradication of colonial-precapitalist remnants in these institutions, but the eventual progression, in our country, from the colonial-tribalist setup to which it continues to be tethered, 75 years after independence, to a truly modern, secular, and progressive society. Such a transformation requires a radical shift in our perceptions of education, governance, and political reform. Yet it is needed, especially at a time when mass anger against the elite class has reached fever pitch.

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

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Features

Sections of US media looking power straight in the eye

Published

20 hours ago

2026/10/1

Sahan Weerasooriya

President Trump addressing the media at the White House.(BBC)

Some fundamental freedoms seen to be at the heart of democracy in the US – religion, speech, the press, assembly and the right to petition the government – are at risk of being undermined at present by the country’s Executive President. However, the latter is being legally challenged on this score by some sections of the US media and the citizenry of the country could take heart from this notable defense of media freedom.

In fact this is good news for the world of democracy. The push back is coming from organizations such as CNN, ABC, CBS, Fox, NBC who constitute the nucleus as it were of the US media and their solidarity no less than their resourcefulness calls for commendation.

Following a recent White House decision to suspend CNN from what was referred to as ‘participation in presidential pool coverages’, the other media organizations mentioned refused to replace it in the pool. Their position was that the public had a right to receive ‘accurate and independent information about the government.’

Earlier, the White House decided to bar MS NOW and Politico from entering its premises following the restrictions imposed on CNN. The organizations were accused of publishing “FAKE NEWS’ , ‘Fiction’ and ‘lies’ in respect of the administration. These organizations lost no time in initiating a federal lawsuit accusing the central administration of violating their rights guaranteed by the First Amendment.

However, the latter litigating organizations could now consider themselves as having been vindicated because the federal court hearing their case has ordered the Trump administration to temporarily restore White House press access to journalists from the mentioned media institutions. Notably, the court has declared that the ban is ‘likely unconstitutional’. The case is proceeding.

The mass media of the most vibrant democracies of the West ought to be no strangers to such inspirational acts of solidarity and exemplifications of independence but there are lessons here for the democracies of the South that could stand them in good stead. Minus the right of a people to be informed, the rest of fundamental rights featuring in Southern Bills of Rights and legislation of the kind are bereft of substance and meaning.

It is informed decision-making on the part of a citizenry that makes for democratic vibrancy and on this score many a Southern democracy fails. While Southern publics generally demand of their governments continuous economic well being and substantive material benefits they are not equally desirous of being informed and knowledgeable.

This lacuna in the consciousness of many Southern publics enables their governments ‘to get off the hook’, so to speak and govern, or more often misgovern, their countries with impunity. Among other factors, this species of mass ignorance makes it possible for governments to dismantle democracy and rule in perpetuity.

Accordingly, an educated and constantly informed public is an essential precondition for the flourishing of democracy and independent media are integral to this process. Minus an independent mass media sector that meets the knowledge needs of the people responsibly, democracy is as good as dead.

Needless to say, those sections of the US media that are currently taking the Trump administration to task over its media curbs are acutely aware of the cruciality of these fundamental knowledge requirements.

The hope of democratic opinion worldwide and locally is likely to be that media independence would thrive in the manner in which it is flourishing in the most vibrant and accountable democracies of the West.

Southern countries such as Sri Lanka that lay claim to democratic credentials, but are democracy-deficient in many ways, need to be particularly cognizant of these requirements. The publics of these countries need to go the extra mile to ensure the thriving of an independent but responsible mass media sector.

In fact it is veritably a matter of life and death. It is only an independent media sector that could, while ensuring the existence of an informed public, impress on the latter the need to protect and perpetuate its fundamental rights. In the absence of these campaigns, such publics could be eventually having on their hands governments that boast of ruling in perpetuity.

Taking a leaf from the sections of the US media referred to independent media organizations in Southern states need to act in solidarity as well. They would need to act on the basis of the principle that acts of victimization suffered by members in their fold at the hands of governments, for instance, are in fact inimical acts directed at their collectivity and which call for united remedial action. In short, no independent mass media institution could see itself as ‘an island’.

Besides some general guidance on the importance of media independence and solidarity, the message coming from the US with regard to media praxis is that power must be stood-up to unblinkingly. The mentioned sections of the US media are primarily in a struggle to ward off encroachments on their independence in the areas of policy and practice by the political executive, that is the President.

The latter would ride rough-shod over the media in the absence of robust opposition by the media itself to inimical executive action of this kind.

While media independence needs to be seen as crucial to democratic development, an obligation is cast on the media to ensure that it uses such independence responsibly and constructively.

The worst that could afflict a media sector is for it to fall prey to the clichetic ‘freedom of the wild ass’. In fact recurring irresponsibility on the part of the media could lend credence to the perception that a tightly regulated media is best for a country. It is a short step from this misguided view to the position that political authoritarianism is best for a state. That turn of events would be of course catastrophic for a democracy.

The issues discussed thus far point to the need for a broad discourse among Southern democracies in particular on what is best for them in this connection. Given the risks underscored earlier for Southern countries in particular a broad discussion on the matters at hand, which includes the public, emerges as a must for Sri Lanka. Besides, media solidarity within democratic countries and internationally is a must.

Features

What lessons can be learned to improve quality of Sri Lanka’s Grade 6 syllabus

Published

20 hours ago

2026/10/1

Sahan Weerasooriya

Prime Minister Dr. Harini Amarasuriya

by Prof. M. W. Amarasiri de Silva

Following public controversy over an inappropriate web link found in an English study module, the Sri Lankan government formally deferred the full rollout of the Grade 6 curriculum reforms to January 2027. In the interim, state schools will maintain the existing syllabus, reverting to standard eight-period daily timetables and previous textbooks to ensure uninterrupted instruction. Prime Minister and Minister of Education Dr. Harini Amarasuriya emphasized that this temporary pause allows the Education Ministry to thoroughly review all instructional materials, fix editorial flaws, and conduct scientific impact assessments across pilot schools prior to nation-wide implementation.

To address the oversight, an expert committee evaluated the flawed materials, completed necessary amendments, and finalised discussions to resubmit corrected modules for printing. Beyond revising written texts, the Ministry established a broader preparation roadmap—allocating funds for extensive teacher training programs set to begin mid-year, alongside scheduled informational briefings for parents, teachers, and students. Prime Minister Amarasuriya reaffirmed that none of the valid first-term modules were completely discarded or scrapped, preserving state resources while systematically rebuilding public trust and strengthening quality assurance protocols.

In this respect, this article reviews the current grade 6 syllabus comparing it with similar syllabi of India and the USA, with a view to make recommendations for the upcoming grade 6 syllabus revision.

Architecture of nation’s future

Education is the quiet architecture of a nation’s future. It is the unseen scaffolding upon which generations build their character, their intellect, and their capacity to contribute meaningfully to society. In Sri Lanka, the Grade 6 syllabus occupies a particularly important place in this architecture. It is the bridge between primary learning and the more demanding intellectual terrain of secondary education. It is the moment when children begin to move from learning basic facts to understanding concepts, from memorising information to applying knowledge, and from passive reception to active engagement. Yet, despite its importance, the Grade 6 curriculum in Sri Lanka has long struggled with issues of breadth, depth, relevance, and pedagogy. As global education systems evolve, Sri Lanka must examine what lessons can be learned from international models—particularly India and the United States—to strengthen its own curriculum and prepare students for a rapidly changing world.

The first lesson Sri Lanka can learn is the value of conceptual clarity. India’s NCERT curriculum, especially in Mathematics and Science, is globally respected for its logical progression and conceptual depth. Indian students are introduced early to the idea that mathematics is not merely a set of procedures but a language of reasoning. They learn why a ratio works, not just how to compute one. They understand the structure of an equation, not merely the steps to solve it. In Science, they explore the properties of materials, the structure of plants, and the principles of motion with a clarity that encourages curiosity rather than rote memorisation.

Sri Lanka’s Grade 6 syllabus, while competency-based, often leans heavily toward content coverage. Students are expected to learn many topics, but the time allocated for each is limited, and the teaching culture often emphasizes memorisation over understanding. If Sri Lanka wishes to improve the quality of its syllabus, it must embrace the idea that fewer topics taught well are better than many topics taught superficially. Conceptual mastery builds confidence, and confidence builds lifelong learners.

Lesson from the US

A second lesson comes from the United States, where the curriculum is built around skills rather than content. American students in Grade 6 are expected to read complex texts, analyse arguments, write essays supported by evidence, conduct experiments, and engage in collaborative projects. The emphasis is not on how much they know but on what they can do with what they know. This skills-based approach encourages critical thinking, creativity, and independence—qualities essential for success in the modern world.

Sri Lanka’s syllabus, by contrast, often rewards students for reproducing information rather than interpreting it. The exam culture reinforces this tendency, as students are assessed primarily through written tests that measure recall. To improve the syllabus, Sri Lanka must integrate more opportunities for students to think, question, debate, and create. The classroom should become a space where students learn to solve problems, not just memorize solutions.

Another important lesson comes from the breadth of Sri Lanka’s own curriculum. One of the strengths of the Sri Lankan system is its inclusion of cultural and religious education. Subjects such as Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity provide moral grounding and cultural identity. Art, Music, Drama, and Health contribute to holistic development. These subjects remind students that education is not merely about academic achievement but about becoming a balanced human being. However, breadth without depth can become burdensome. Grade 6 students in Sri Lanka often juggle more than ten subjects, each with its own textbook, competencies, and assessments. This creates pressure not only for students but also for teachers, who must rush through content to meet syllabus requirements. The lesson here is not to reduce cultural subjects but to integrate them more meaningfully. Religious education can be taught through ethical discussions, community projects, and reflective writing. Art and Music can be connected to history, literature, and social studies. Health can be linked to science and physical education. Integration reduces overload while enriching learning.

Another lesson from India

India offers another valuable lesson in the form of standardised textbooks. NCERT books are used across the country, ensuring consistency in quality and content. They are written by subject experts, reviewed rigorously, and updated periodically. Sri Lanka’s textbooks, while generally well-structured, vary in quality and often lag behind modern pedagogical standards. Some are dense, text-heavy, and lacking in visual aids or real-world examples. To improve the syllabus, Sri Lanka must invest in high-quality textbooks that are engaging, accessible, and aligned with contemporary educational research. Textbooks should not merely transmit information; they should inspire curiosity. They should include stories, diagrams, experiments, and activities that make learning enjoyable and meaningful.

The United States provides a lesson in inquiry-based science education. American students conduct experiments, build models, observe natural phenomena, and engage in engineering design challenges. They learn science not as a set of facts but as a process of discovery. Sri Lanka’s science curriculum includes experiments, but many schools lack the resources, laboratory facilities, or teacher training to implement them effectively. Improving the syllabus requires improving the ecosystem around it. Schools need laboratories, equipment, and teacher development programs that empower educators to teach science through inquiry. A syllabus is only as strong as the environment in which it is taught. ***

International models

Another area where Sri Lanka can learn from international models is language education. In India, students often learn three languages—English, Hindi, and Sanskrit or Urdu. This heavy language load has its challenges, but it also produces students with strong linguistic skills. In the United States, English Language Arts emphasises reading complex texts, writing arguments, and analysing literature. Sri Lanka’s English curriculum, while improving, still struggles with uneven implementation across schools. Many students reach secondary school without adequate proficiency in English, limiting their access to global knowledge. To improve the syllabus, Sri Lanka must strengthen English instruction through better teacher training, more reading opportunities, and a shift from grammar-heavy teaching to communication-focused learning. At the same time, Sinhala and Tamil instruction should be modernised to include creative writing, literature appreciation, and critical reading.

Social Studies is another area ripe for improvement. Sri Lanka’s curriculum includes History, Geography, and Civics, but the teaching often emphasises memorization of dates, definitions, and facts. India’s Social Science curriculum, while also content-heavy, provides clearer conceptual frameworks. The United States, however, excels in teaching civics and citizenship. American students learn how governments function, how laws are made, how communities solve problems, and how citizens participate in democracy. Sri Lanka can strengthen its Civics curriculum by incorporating more discussions on governance, rights, responsibilities, and community engagement. Students should learn not only the structure of government but also the values that sustain it—justice, equality, and participation.

One of the most important lessons Sri Lanka can learn is the value of reducing exam pressure. In both India and Sri Lanka, exams dominate the educational landscape. Students are judged primarily by their ability to perform on written tests. The United States, while not free from assessment challenges, uses a wider range of evaluation methods—projects, presentations, portfolios, and continuous assessment. These methods allow students to demonstrate learning in diverse ways. Sri Lanka should consider adopting a more balanced assessment system that values creativity, collaboration, and practical skills alongside academic knowledge.

Technology integration is another area where Sri Lanka can improve. The United States incorporates digital literacy, coding, online research, and digital citizenship into the curriculum. Sri Lanka’s ICT syllabus is well-structured, but implementation varies widely. Many schools lack computers, internet access, or trained ICT teachers. Improving the syllabus requires improving infrastructure. Students must learn to navigate the digital world safely and effectively. They must learn coding not as a luxury but as a basic skill. They must learn to evaluate online information critically, a skill essential in an era of misinformation.

Teacher training

Teacher training is perhaps the most critical lesson of all. A syllabus is only as effective as the teachers who deliver it. India invests heavily in teacher training through national programs, workshops, and online platforms. The United States emphasises professional development, peer collaboration, and instructional coaching. Sri Lanka must strengthen its teacher training programmes, ensuring that educators understand not only what to teach but how to teach it. Teachers should be trained in inquiry-based learning, differentiated instruction, formative assessment, and classroom management. They should be empowered to adapt the syllabus to the needs of their students rather than follow it mechanically.

Sri Lanka must learn the lesson of relevance. A syllabus must prepare students not only for exams but for life. It must teach them how to think, how to communicate, how to solve problems, and how to work with others. It must prepare them for a world where knowledge is abundant, but wisdom is scarce. It must help them navigate a future shaped by technology, globalisation, environmental challenges, and social change. To improve the syllabus, Sri Lanka must ask: What kind of citizens do we want to produce? What kind of thinkers? What kind of leaders? The answers to these questions should shape the curriculum.

Lastly, improving the quality of Sri Lanka’s Grade 6 syllabus requires learning from both international models and local strengths. From India, Sri Lanka can learn the value of conceptual clarity and standardised textbooks. From the United States, it can learn the importance of skills, inquiry, and creativity. From its own traditions, it can preserve cultural education, moral development, and holistic learning. The goal is not to copy another country’s system but to build a uniquely Sri Lankan curriculum that is modern, relevant, and empowering. A curriculum that honours the past while preparing students for the future. A curriculum that nurtures thinkers, creators, and compassionate citizens. A curriculum worthy of a nation with immense potential and a proud educational heritage. If Sri Lanka embraces these lessons, the Grade 6 syllabus can become not just a bridge to secondary education but a foundation for national progress.

Features

Three magical nights at Colombo Fashion Week

Published

20 hours ago

2026/10/1

Sahan Weerasooriya

Melloney Dassanayaka is certainly a familiar name here, and abroad, as well, having represented Sri Lanka at the Miss Universe 2024 pageant, held in Mexico.

A former National Basketball player, she is also involved in several projects, beneficial to the community, including financial literacy for single women-headed families in the country.

A banker by profession, Melloney hold a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration.

Melloney with Asanka de Mel of Lovi Sri Lanka

This extremely talented old girl of Holy Family Convent, Bambalapitiya, was in the limelight, once more, when she was seen on the ramp at Colombo Fashion Week.

It was her very first experience, at this prestigious event, and she loved every minute of it, she said, and, what’s more, she was featured on three consecutive days.

According to the itinerary, on day 01 she walked for Lovi Sri Lanka; day 02 Rizwan Beyg (Pakistan designer), Arsath Furkhan (Indian designer), Haoyi Yan (Chinese designer) and Samant Chauhan (Indian designer); and on day 03 Vaishali Shandangule (Indian designer).