Participating at the All Party Conference that then President Jayewardene convened in January 1984 in the aftermath of the watershed violence of 1983, Dr. Colvin R de Silva characteristically perorated that the structure of the Sri Lankan state is incongruent with the country’s sociopolitical reality. He said it more as Historian than as a Lawyer or the architect of the 1972 Constitution.

This gap between state structure and political reality was somewhat bridged by the 13^th Amendment that came three years later, with all due credit to President Jayewardene no matter how begrudgingly he may have done it and even if it was under Indian duress as JRJ’s critics have been alleging ever since.

In this backdrop, it is fair to say that the NPP’s constitutional proposals, even if they may not have been drafted with this specific intent, could contribute to further bridging the structural-reality gap and potentially transform Sri Lanka into an ethno-equal state and an ethno-equal nation. The rub, however, is in the ability of the government, as well as its intention, to fulfill in practice what is otherwise a very laudable purpose. The experience so far with the Provincial Council elections and the absence of any manifest effort by the NPP government towards implementing any of its main constitutional proposals do not allow room for too much optimism.

As I cite below, the NPP’s Manifesto fulsomely promises to hold all provincial and local government elections within one year after coming into office. Now with all the ministerial and prime-ministerial explanations in parliament as to what and what pre-steps this overworked government is apparently constrained to take, the PC system would consider itself lucky if the next provincial elections end up being held at the same time as the next parliamentary elections. That is the reality. It could be much better and that too by a government that promised to be much better.

The NPP’s Constitutional Purpose

Section 4 of the NPP Manifesto, A Thriving Nation, A Beautiful Life, is entitled A Dignified Life – A Strong Country, and includes nine subsections, viz. 1) A new constitution – A united Sri Lankan nation; 2) An efficient public service – A skill based professionalism; 3) Rule of law – A judicial system with equal access; 4) Public security assuring – People friendly service; 5) A humanitarian prison – A lawful confinement; 6) A drug-free country – A healthier citizen life; 7) A dignified diplomacy – A sovereign state; 8) High level of national security – Secured state; and 9) A Sri Lankan Nation – The Universal Citizen. These subheadings and sections are indicative of the NPP’s vision for the Sri Lankan State, a Sri Lankan Nation, and the equality of all its citizens.

The Section specific to the constitution (Section 4.1) includes the NPP’s promise to usher in “a new constitution” for “a united Sri Lankan nation.” The process for introducing the new constitution is described thus: “A new constitution will be drafted and passed through a referendum with the necessary changes, if there any, after going through a public discourse.” In addition, Section 4.9 – A Sri Lankan Nation – The Universal Citizen, elaborates on the premise and the purpose of a new NPP Constitution which are outlined as follows:

“Introduce a new constitution that strengthens democracy and ensures equality of all citizens. This initiative will build on the constitutional reform process started in 2015 which remains incomplete. The proposed constitutional reforms will guarantee equality and democracy and the devolution of political and administrative power to every local government, district and province so that all people can be involved in governance within one country. Provincial councils and local government elections, which are currently postponed indefinitely, will be held within a year to provide an opportunity for the people to join the governance.”

Fifteen “activities” are included as making up the constitution making process: 1) Recognizing and enacting the rights mentioned in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights as basic rights; 2) Broadening the constitutional law about the rights of children, women, and people with disabilities according to international conventions; 3) Safeguarding the voting rights of immigrants within and outside of the country; 4) Abolishing the executive presidency and appointing a president, without executive powers, by the parliament; 5) Introducing a new parliamentary electoral system; 6) Limiting official presidential residences to one; 7) Abolishing the pensions and special privileges given to retired presidents and their families; 8) Appointing 25 ministers and corresponding deputy ministers to 25 logically determined ministries and abolishing State Ministerial posts; 9) An advisory council consisting of specialists on the subject will be appointed to each ministry; 10) Introducing a code of ethics, including not allowing members of parliament (MPs) and ministers to appoint their immediate family members to their personal staff; 11) Abolishing allowances made to MPs for participating in parliamentary sessions; 12) Abolishing the pension offered to MPs after 05 years; 13) Preventing MPs or their close family members from directly or indirectly engaging in businesses or contracts with the government; 14) Removing the tax-free vehicle permits for MPs; and 15) Giving only one vehicle for Ministers /Deputy Ministers to be used during their period of office.

Interestingly, while the aborted 2015 constitutional reform process that the NPP was a part of is acknowledged, there are no references in the proposals – to the 1972 Constitution or the 1978 Constitution, and missing in the proposals are some of the signature terms that were/are both the badges and burdens of the two constitutions viz., the republic; unitary state; socialist (1972) and democratic socialist (1978); and special status for Buddhism. On the other hand, the proposals (Activity #1 & #2) include the commitment to enshrine and enforce rights and freedoms of Sri Lankans in accordance with international covenants and conventions. This inclusion is refreshingly open in contrast to the 1972 and 1978 constitutions which were rather averse to embracing anything ‘foreign’ due to the misplaced fear of diluting the island’s sovereignty, which is more theoretical than concrete.

Sovereignty and territorial integrity are duly emphasized in Section 4.7 of the proposals: A Dignified Diplomacy – A sovereign State, and in Subsection 4.8: Sovereignty and Territorial Integrity. Section 4.9: A Sri Lankan Nation – The Universal Citizen, underscores national reconciliation, equality of citizens in religion and language, and the vigorous operationalization of the Provincial Council system even though the 13^th Amendment is not mentioned in the proposals. There is, however, specific reference to the 16^th Amendment and the promise to implement the National Language Policy that is enshrined in 16A. Sri Lanka’s ethnic diversity is acknowledged and various measures are identified for achieving national reconciliation and a free and equal society.

Among these measures are: establishing an Inter-Religious Council consisting of all religious leaders and religious scholars to resolve inter-religious issues; releasing all political prisoners and ensuring their free socialization; abolition of all oppressive acts including the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA); regularization of civil administration in a way that the civil rights of the people in all parts of the country including the North and East are guaranteed; providing educational and employment opportunities to all ethnicities based on merit without political influence; providing relief to war widows, internally displaced persons, people with disabilities and people with trauma in need of relief and shelter; settlement of existing land related issues by a National Commission on Lands and Settlements; and ending resettlement programmes that operate with the aim of changing population composition; and addressing the wages, land, housing, education, and health issues of the Malaiayaka Tamils based on the NPP’s Hatton Declaration of 2023.

This is an impressive list by any comparison and it will be all the more impressive if the NPP government were to seriously and capably set about achieving most or all of them.

The Constitutional Process

While the Manifesto indicates that “a new constitution will be drafted and passed through a referendum with the necessary changes, if there are any, after going through a public discourse,” it is not clear if the NPP intends to comprehensively amend the current (1978) constitution, or repeal and replace it based on a referendum. Similar to its 1972 predecessor, the 1978 Constitution provides for repealing and replacing itself but requires the people’s endorsement in a referendum. Although the referendum requirement is limited to specific provisions of the constitution, an interpretive judicial culture has since evolved widening the referendum net to capture other provisions that are not stipulated in Article 83 of the constitution.

Opposing and, in my view, more persuasive voices have been heard from experts like Dr. Nihal Jayawickrema, and long before that from Dr. Colvin R.de Silva during the controversy over 13A referendum requirements, that a referendum requirement should be limited to changing only the provisions that are specifically to the provisions mentioned in Article 83. By this interpretation, a referendum is required to extend the term of a president or of parliament, but not for abolishing the system of elected executive presidency itself.

At the same time, a synthesizing view has also evolved that if the constitution were to be changed in a substantial manner, let alone repeal and replace it even without changing any of the Article 83 provisions, it would be prudent to have a referendum and be done with it. The latter is also the NPP’s position but seemingly taken from a more positive and democratic standpoint than a narrow interpretive standpoint. But there are questions as to how and when the NPP government will have a constitution package ready and when will it likely call for a referendum. It is not necessary to detail the amending processes in an election manifesto, but with nearly two years in office it is time for the government to indicate what is going to be its new constitution and how is it going to be achieved.

Another technicality is that when it drafted the manifesto promising constitutional changes subject to a referendum, the NPP may not have been expecting a two-thirds majority in parliament. So, what was its thinking about meeting the initial amendment requirement of a two-thirds majority in parliament without having sufficient numbers in the government. It would have had to find common ground with opposition parties in parliament. That is the very purpose of the two-thirds majority in parliament – to achieve interparty consensus as opposed to using a steamroller single-party majority.

The question to the government is why is it not being consultative with at least some, if not all, of the parties in opposition. As well, inasmuch as the Manifesto refers to a continuation of the 2015 constitutional reform process, why is the government not consulting with those individuals and organizations who were significantly involved in that earlier process. Some of them were directly associated with the NPP. But none of them is in the scene now, while the current Minister of Justice was politically unheard and unseen at that time.

The double burden of Justice and Constitutional Affairs is too much for even the most experienced and equipped political leader. It is too much to saddle a first time MP and Minister with such heavy responsibilities. As well, there is much talk about the government inviting non-NPP experts to play lead roles in institutions and agencies involved in running the economy. Why not extend this approach to implementing the NPP’s constitutional reform process?

To hark back briefly to the making of the 1972 Constitution, neither Colvin R de Silva nor the United Front were banking on winning a two-thirds majority in the 1970 elections. Instead, they were relying on Colvin’s legal theory that the new constitution will be a total rupture from the Soulbury Constitution and that its making will follow its own path based on an electoral mandate from the people.

“Not merely despite the Queen, but in defiance of the Queen and her Crown,” was Dr. Colvin’s platform pitch. The two-thirds majority that the United Front turned out to be a curse in disguise. While the NPP is now saddled with a two-thirds majority it doesn’t have Colvin’s legal theory to ignore the amending procedures of the 1978 Constitution. JR Jayewardene faithfully followed the amending procedure of the 1972 Constitution, but created a more rigid constitution than its far more flexible predecessor.

Ushering new constitutions are easily done on the morrow of independence or a revolution. Midlife constitutional changes are extremely difficult in any country and there are only a handful of countries that have successfully achieved this feat. The successful making of the 1972 and 1977 constitutions in Sri Lanka were almost entirely due to the power and competence of their two architects, Colvin R de Silva whose power was entirely intellectual and professional, and JR Jayewardene who in addition had absolute political power after the UNP’s landslide victory in 1977.

Sri Lankan politics has not been able to replicate their circumstances ever since, and the circumstances of the NPP are no different, its two-thirds majority notwithstanding. If the government is serious about drafting a new constitution, conducting public consultation, and holding a referendum, it should have started the process the day after it was sworn into office. It could start the process right away even now. The task deserves a separate ministry and supporting expertise. It cannot be the part time job of a first time Minister of Justice.

All that said, many of the NPP’s reform proposals can be implemented without introducing a new constitution. Few have already been introduced and many more can be introduced by simple legislation or through amendments without a referendum. For the super majority the government has in parliament, its legislative record has not been sufficiently impressive. The government has given priority to implementing proposals that it considers to be more resonant with the voters at large.

They include, the taking away the manifestly undue perks and privileges of former presidents, and the proposals to end the more offensive perks and privileges of parliamentarians. The reform of parliament itself is to be achieved by implementing a new electoral system; by limiting cabinet size to 25 and appointing an advisory council for each ministry; and introducing a code of ethics for MPs. These measures will also go down well with the public, but they can all be implemented through simple legislation without having to change the constitution through a referendum.

The most glaring omission is the continuing foot dragging over the repeal of the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA). There are already new victims of this continuation. What is the point in indefinitely detaining people like Retired Major Gen. Suresh Sallay under the PTA? It only vitiates however plausible a case the government might have against Gen. Sallay. More importantly, it flies in the face of the NPP’s promise to abolish the PTA, and its promise of custodial and prison reforms under Section 4.5 of the Manifesto: A humanitarian prison – A lawful confinement. The PTA only keeps the door open for police abuse and overreach.

The most recognizable and much talked about proposal is for “Abolishing the executive presidency and appointing a president, without executive powers, by the parliament.” If only the NPP government can deliver on this promise during its current first term, it can justifiably claim to have fulfilled its constitutional promise almost in entirety. No one will likely ask for anything more from the NPP, constitutionally speaking. But that seems unlikely to happen and this gets clearer as each day goes by. The talk inside the NPP and outside would seem to suggest that President Dissanayake will seek a second term as an elected Executive President and renege on what was made out to be a historic promise. It will become another daydream, so to speak.

by Rajan Philips

Soon after Pyongyang unveiled a new facility to produce nuclear bomb fuel, with Kim Jong Un reaffirming plans to expand the country’s nuclear forces “at an exponential rate”, President Xi Jinping crossed the border after seven years to visit his neighbouring state. Before his arrival, Xi published a carefully crafted message, couched in the deeply rooted lexicon of diplomacy and carrying layered meanings for a North Korean audience, in which he argued against hegemonic politics and the erosion of international rules. It was not merely a gesture of goodwill but a calculated act of strategic signaling, written in the language of stability while echoing the rhetoric of geopolitical rivalry that increasingly shapes the international order.

The visit itself, staged with extraordinary ceremony across Pyongyang’s grand civic spaces, was presented as an affirmation of friendship between socialist neighbours. Yet beneath the choreographed spectacle lies a more complicated reality. China is no longer speaking to North Korea as a problem to be solved, but as a condition to be managed within a fragmented international system. Xi’s carefully chosen phrases — “shared destiny”, “mutual assistance” and “unbreakable friendship” — were not decorative flourishes. They were assertions of permanence in a relationship that has survived war, sanctions and decades of strategic ambiguity.

At Kim Il Sung Square, where formations of soldiers, students and citizens performed beneath fluttering flags, the language of unity concealed an underlying imbalance. China’s diplomatic doctrine, repeatedly articulated in Xi’s writings, presents both states as “fellow travellers on the socialist road”; yet the material reality is more hierarchical. Beijing is not merely a partner to Pyongyang. It is the centre of gravity around which much of the North Korean system revolves economically, diplomatically and, increasingly, strategically. This is not openly acknowledged, but it is reflected in trade patterns, energy dependence and the tightly managed permeability of the border regions.

Xi’s article, published ahead of the visit and carried by North Korean and Chinese state media alike, reveals the intellectual framework behind this engagement. It speaks of “top-level strategic guidance”, a phrase that in Chinese political language denotes the primacy of leader-to-leader diplomacy over institutional negotiation. It also reiterates opposition to “hegemonism and power politics”, a formulation that simultaneously criticizes Western strategic dominance while offering ideological reassurance to Pyongyang. The brilliance of the wording lies in its dual purpose. It reassures North Korea while signaling to the United States without ever mentioning it directly.

Less visible, but widely recognized among regional specialists, is the dense network of economic activity that sustains the frontier between China and North Korea. Officially, trade remains constrained by sanctions and regulatory controls. Unofficially, the border operates through a mixture of state-approved commerce, local barter arrangements and carefully managed informal exchanges. Chinese provinces adjoining the frontier depend on this controlled permeability, particularly in sectors such as food supplies, textiles and consumer goods. In return, North Korea provides labour, access concessions and selected resource exports. This is not a “shadow economy” but a tolerated grey area maintained by both governments because it preserves stability without allowing the relationship to descend into crisis.

It is within this grey area that stories of “secret networks” frequently emerge. Yet the reality is often more bureaucratic than clandestine. Trade is driven less by rogue actors than by overlapping permissions, discretionary enforcement and shifting instructions from the centre. The notion of a handful of powerful profiteers orchestrating cross-border commerce oversimplifies a system in which benefits are dispersed through layers of administrative authority, provincial intermediaries and sanctioned enterprises. The defining feature is not secrecy but carefully managed ambiguity.

Xi’s emphasis on “jointly upholding the international system with the United Nations at its core” becomes particularly revealing when viewed alongside these frontier realities. On the surface, it is a reaffirmation of multilateral order. In practice, it reflects China’s preference for a world in which legitimacy flows through established institutions, even while bilateral relationships such as that with North Korea operate according to a different set of political calculations. This dual-track approach enables Beijing to retain strategic flexibility without formally dismantling the international framework from which it continues to benefit.

The visit also took place against a wider shift in global diplomacy. The Financial Times has noted the growing number of world leaders traveling to Beijing rather than Xi traveling abroad. Some interpret this as evidence of a China-centred diplomatic sphere. Whether viewed as modern statecraft or, more controversially, as a distant echo of tributary-era symbolism, one fact remains evident. Xi Jinping has built a diplomatic model in which China is less a participant in international gatherings and more a focal point through which bilateral relationships are channeled.

Within this arrangement, North Korea occupies a uniquely delicate position. It is at once a liability, a buffer and a strategic asset. Its nuclear programme complicates China’s relations with much of the international community, yet its existence also serves as a geopolitical barrier on the Korean peninsula. Xi’s language avoids direct reference to nuclear weapons, concentrating instead on “regional stability” and a “peaceful environment”. That omission is deliberate. Silence, in this context, is not avoidance but the management of contradiction.

One of the most closely watched questions following Xi’s visit is whether North Korea’s rapid nuclear expansion will become less visible, or simply retreat further from public view. Xi later stated that he and Kim had reached an “important consensus” and agreed to safeguard regional and global peace, a formulation that may signal a preference for restraint in presentation rather than any fundamental change in Pyongyang’s strategic ambitions.

Under Xi, Chinese foreign policy has increasingly prioritized stability over transformation and management over resolution. Nowhere is this more evident than on the Korean peninsula, where the objective is not denuclearization through coercion but the containment of escalation within predictable limits. In this sense, North Korea is not being pushed towards change.

Rather, it is being held within a carefully maintained balance that serves broader regional interests.

The wider geopolitical setting, including Russia’s deepening alignment with Pyongyang and the fluctuating approach of the United States towards Asia, further complicates this balance. Xi’s diplomatic language — with its emphasis on multi-polarity, opposition to “power politics” and the creation of a “community with a shared future for mankind” — is intended to place China at the centre of an alternative vision of international affairs. Yet that vision is not merely ideological. It is expressed through trade agreements, infrastructure investment and selective political partnerships.

What emerges from the Pyongyang visit is not a straightforward story of alliance, but one of carefully calibrated interdependence. North Korea retains leverage through its strategic unpredictability, while China retains influence through economic indispensability. The border between them is not merely geographical. It is a political and economic mechanism composed of regulated flows of goods, labour and messaging. It is this managed interdependence that allows both governments to preserve autonomy while avoiding collapse or confrontation.

Xi Jinping’s rise in global politics, therefore, cannot be understood solely through military strength or economic weight. It rests upon the construction of a diplomatic order in which China functions simultaneously as host, mediator and stabilising force. Foreign leaders travel to Beijing not as supplicants, but as negotiators entering a system where outcomes are increasingly shaped through bilateral and asymmetrical relationships. Within that framework, North Korea remains both an exception and a participant, its nuclear status complicating but not excluding its place within China’s strategic sphere.

Xi’s visit to Pyongyang reflects a world in transition, where the old certainties of alignment and isolation no longer fully apply. In their place is emerging a more complicated pattern of selective cooperation, managed tensions and carefully cultivated historical memory. Xi’s diplomacy does not resolve contradictions. It arranges them. And within that ability to arrange competing interests lies much of his contemporary influence. Whether that model ultimately proves durable or fragile remains one of the defining geopolitical questions of our age.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa

My journey from London to Toronto was on an Air Canada 747 jumbo jet. I had chosen a window seat while the middle seat beside me remained empty and a friendly woman sat on the aisle seat. Her English accent was unfamiliar, but I soon learned she was from Montreal, in Quebec—the French-speaking heart of Canada.

She spoke warmly about her country explaining its bilingual identity, its long winters, and its vast stretches of land. At that time, Canada had a population of only about 20 million (now over 40 million)—despite being the second-largest country in the world. She pointed out glaciers glistening beneath the plane, describing their majesty. Canadians, she assured me, were a welcoming people. Education, healthcare, and quality of life, she declared proudly, were all superior to what she believed one might find in the United States.

When she asked whether I had a winter coat, I admitted that a Lankan friend had lent me one although I had not packed it due to baggage weight limits. She nodded approvingly. “That’s wise. Styles change every year, and since it’s summer now, you’ll easily find a discounted one in Toronto.”

She explained that while parts of Canada endured some snow—especially in the central provinces—the west coast city of Vancouver enjoyed a gentler climate. Many Canadians dreamed of retiring there.

When we landed in Toronto, the kind lady stayed by my side, guiding me through immigration and even helping me find the right bus to the city. Before leaving for her connecting flight, she handed me her address and invited me to visit her in Montreal someday.

New life

After a week at New Hall in the University of Toronto, I was finally assigned a room at St. George College, where Siva and Surjeet also lived. This made life easier as I was no longer alone. I found that many Chinese students rented rooms in modest private homes nearby and to save money they often crammed two or three to a room—sometimes 10 in a house—sharing a single bathroom and a kitchen. Their meals were simple: dinner cooked as a group in the kitchen, breakfast skipped altogether, and lunch reduced to bread spread with peanut butter.

Watching them reminded me of the hardships faced by students in Maradana back in Sri Lanka. Yet, I admired the Chinese students deeply. They were disciplined and relentlessly hardworking, devoting nearly every waking hour to classes, libraries, or computer labs. Leisure was a luxury that they rarely allowed themselves to enjoy.

By contrast, my time at St. George was more colorful. Through Siva and Surjeet, I met others—among them Jim Retson from the Department of Law, his younger sister Mavis, a Master’s student in Speech Therapy, and Roberta, a fellow graduate student who was engaged to Jim. Our weekends filled quickly with outings, movies, road trips in Surjeet’s Volkswagen, and long hours of city exploration.

Pancake parties and beyond

Siva had a gift for cooking, often preparing sambar, a South Indian vegetable curry with a parippu base, which he served with white bread to anyone who dropped by his room. He was generous, never expecting anything in return. Yet one regular visitor, a South Indian day scholar named Paikyalingam, happily ate Siva’s food without ever offering reciprocal hospitality.

Sundays at St. George were special—pancake gatherings in a dorm kitchenette. Students brought flour, eggs, milk, and butter, flipped pancakes on the griddle, serving them with maple syrup. It was here I had my first taste of sweet pancakes alongside cured meats—bacon, ham, and sausage— to me a strange but intriguing combination. At these gatherings, Mavis grew particularly friendly toward me. Though I appreciated her warmth, I found her constant attempts to “correct” my English accent a little irritating.

From executive engineer to student

Before leaving Sri Lanka for graduate studies, I had risen to a permanent position of executive engineer at Richard Pieris and Co. Ltd. Shifting from the authority of that role to the humility of a student’s life in Canada was a difficult but necessary adjustment.

At the University of Toronto, my task was clear: complete the required coursework, and prepare and defend a research dissertation. Here, as a student, I found myself answering to people at every level. Back in Sri Lanka, I needed to obey only the chief engineer and the factory director. The contrast was striking.

Yet, my years as an engineer had been useful. Among my early projects was the development of a buffing system for rubber parts—an effort that would unexpectedly become my first brush with the field of Mechatronics.

My accidental exposure to mechatronics

When I was an engineering student in Sri Lanka, in the second half of the 1960s, we did not have digital computers in the university. When I was about to graduate, a main frame computer was installed in the faculty of engineering, University of Ceylon, Peradeniya. It was enormous in size and a large air conditioned room to accommodate it. Today’s desk-top personal computers (PCs) have more functionality, capability, and speed, and are far smaller and cheaper!

At that time, first we had to learn a programming language, typically FORTRAN, before we could use the computer. Even after that, we had to “punch” a deck of cards according to our program, hand it over to the person at the counter, and wait for many hours if not a day, to get a printout of the results. Often, such computer “outputs” showed errors (called, bugs) in the program, and the correct output would be forthcoming only after several iterations of correction, punching, re-submission and waiting.

To learn a programming language, we had to use the relevant manuals or books and unlike today, they were not freely available on line or even in library. The set of manuals for the university computer were kept under lock and key at the computer room of the University of Ceylon, and were carefully guarded by its manager.

Undeterred, I purchased a booklet on FORTRAN Programming, and carefully mastered it. Once I was ready to program the computer in FORTRAN, I had already graduated and was working as an engineer in a large factory. The company too did not have computers, but the chief engineer offered me a project related to computers soon after I joined the factory. Unbeknownst to me, that was my first and fortuitous exposure to rudimentary Mechatronics.

In my daily “walk through” in the factory, I noticed an alarming and hazardous situation. The factory had about ten “buffing stations” where the workers manually held rubber parts (the factory produced consumer items made of rubber, plastic, aluminum and steel among other things, in large scale) to spinning emery wheels, at buffing stations, and removed any minor artifacts in the parts, and also polished them in the process. The whole buffing area was full of rubber dust, and even though the buffing workers wore masks I was sure that they inhaled some of that dust daily. I asked the chief engineer whether we could improve the situation, and suggested two options: 1. Install a good ventilation system, 2. Redesign the buffing machines to be less hazardous. Fortunately, the chief engineer agreed, and told me “I will take care of the ventilation system, and you redesign the buffing machines.” He said that he would assign a foreman for the project, and I could acquire the needed parts and other material from the company’s Stores.

Little did I know, the particular foreman was typically a disaster, known to be lazy, did not want to do any work, and above all, did not like to take instruction or advice from others. The chief engineer just wanted me to somehow change the foreman’s habits and make him at least a bit productive, I suppose. Even though I was young and somewhat naïve, I resorted to some trickery with the foreman. I told him that I did not know much engineering, and I wanted to learn from him (even though I had a first class honors degree, with a practical final-year project, and topped the entire class of engineering at the university). He was quite flattered. I told him that I would recommend him for a bonus on completion of the project. During the project, I did not question his decisions, but tactfully corrected any of his errors that I noticed. So, gradually, he became a changed man and was quite friendly with me, while boasting to others that he could teach a thing or two to “these highly-paid engineers.” He was correct indeed.

The powers who designed the engineering curriculum at my university in Sri Lanka, had the foresight to plan for the future, proactively. The first two years of our engineering program were common to all engineering students (consisting of just Mechanical, Electrical, and Civil engineering students, at the time). Fortunately I learned electrical engineering and electronics as a result, even though my specialization in the final two years was mechanical engineering. So, in my main practical project after graduation, I embarked on Mechatronics.

I refreshed my knowledge in electrical engineering, and learned how to select an electric motor (particularly an induction motor), to properly match it to a load (which is the object that would be rotated by the motor). I learned the types of control that were available for induction motors. I brushed up my knowledge on the analysis of rotating bodies and particularly how to determine the torque versus speed curve of a load, using Mechanics of Machines that I learned in the university. Most of this study was done in the evenings, outside the normal working hours. Then I designed a hexagonal drum of appropriate capacity (doing some guesswork, based on the number of parts that were buffed in five existing stations in one hour and assuming that the new buffing machine would run for an hour to complete a batch of rubber parts) with the hope of gluing suitable emery paper in the interior. Then I estimated, with the help of the foremen, the weight of the drum with a full load of rubber parts. Finally, I calculated the moment of inertia of the loaded drum about its axis of rotation, and also determined a torque versus speed curve for it. That was the easy part.

A suitable shaft and bearings for the drum had to be selected from the company stores. The support structure for the drum had to be designed and fabricated, and a suitable induction motor had to be chosen. With eager help (and rigorous advice forthcoming) from the foremen, much of the design was completed except the selection of the motor. The motor selection was particularly difficult for several reasons. We had to depend on a few available induction motors (about four, as I recall) at the factory’s stores. No data sheet, manual, or even a standard torque versus speed curve were available (unlike today, when we can simply obtain all that information on line). Motor control involved simple start and stop, and at best, two-speed, “pole-changing” control. Unlike today, no sophisticated, variable speed, frequency control and field vector (magnetic flux vector) control were available then. Besides, an induction motor has to operate in its stable region, and the corresponding torque depends on the “slip,” which in turn depends on the motor speed. I had studied the analytical formula for the steady-state speed-torque characteristic of a 3-phase induction motor. I fitted all the available information of the available motors and estimated (crudely) the torque versus speed curve and the stable region of the motors. By painstakingly matching this curve with the load curve and allowing for a good factor of safety (to account for the numerous unknowns and uncertainties) I selected the best motor for the job, from what was available. The fabrication, assembly, and installation were the tasks of the foreman, technicians, and other workers. My job was primarily of supervisory nature during that activity. The enclosure and the ventilation system with a powerful exhaust fan were installed as well, but no “Mechatronics” knowledge was needed for that.

Fortunately, the project was a success, the workers and the management were very happy, and the foreman received a bonus (and a gratuity from me) and retired. A summary of the buffing process is as follows: Steam-cured sheets of latex is molded into rubber parts using a molding system. After cooling, the parts are placed in the drum. The motor is started and the exhaust system is operated. After an hour, the machine is stopped and a vacuum system is operated to clean the interior of the drum and its contents. A masked worker removes the parts into bins. The buffed (polished) parts are sent for inspection and packing. Many years later, I heard that the company had developed several such buffing machines and expanded the operation, but I was not involved in those activities as I was at the University of Toronto, carrying out graduate studies.

Paying Back to the Motherland

Computers, after all, are ubiquitous. Even at the Grade 8 level, rural students can be introduced to simple, computer-integrated projects in Mechatronics—at minimal cost. A computer education can be easily provided even to rural students. Figure below is just one example, where I had provided a computer room with several laptop computers to the rural school of Morahela, in the Badulla district. Beyond just the knowledge of using a computer, it is not difficult or costly to provide computer-integrated projects in Mechatronics even to Grade 8 students.

Exploring Mystic Toronto and Arrival of Winter

Toronto offered many attractions and activities. Public transportation—modern subways, trams, trolleys, and buses—made it easy to get around. For a small fare of twenty-five cents (at the time), one could explore the entire city, transferring between modes of transportation as needed. Weekend trips often took us to Ontario Place, a recreational park with open-air theaters, water parks, and a 3D IMAX theater. We also visited nearby islands, riding boats while enjoying “hot dogs” (sausages in buns). Jim, Mavis, Roberta, the French Canadian student Elizabeth (Liz) Campeau, and Anette Schiferl an American student who studied for a Master’s degree in Anthropology at the University of Toronto, often joined us in these explorations.

As winter approached, I bought a discounted coat, scarf, hat, and gloves from a store called Tip Top, just as the kind woman on the airplane had advised. The first snowfall thrilled me more than it chilled me—I ran outside, scooped up snow, and rubbed it against my face like a child discovering magic.

Groceries were affordable at the nearby open-air “Jewish Market.” One winter’s day, I walked there and back, with my gloves removed because my hands felt warm. When I returned to St George College, my fingers and ears had frozen stiff. Only after a hot bath and coffee did I feel normal again. Then I collapsed into bed. On that day I decided to buy earmuffs, a hat and scarf, as Mavis and Anette had wisely advised me to wear when venturing outdoors.

In Sri Lanka, I often suffered from sinus infections and allergies, but Canada brought me relief. What I did experience, however, was the common winter cold and nosebleeds. Alarmed one day at the sight of blood in a tissue, I hurried to the campus clinic (Canada had excellent healthcare. As a student, I could use any hospital or clinic at any time, free of charge). The kind doctor examined me in a fully equipped room, with the assistance of a nurse, carefully and thoroughly, and took me to his office after that.

“I know the problem” he explained gently. “Many Asian students face it in the winter. When you sneeze or clean the nose, your blood vessels can easily rupture. It’s nothing serious” he explained gently. “There is no medicine for a common cold, which you have. I will give you something to ease the pain.” The doctor handed me a bottle of Dimetapp syrup.

“As well, you can buy it over the counter, in a pharmacy” he said.

“How much is this?” I asked.

“Nothing. These are free samples that we get. In any case, the medicine is free for students” the attending nurse responded with a smile.

Friendship and Humor

Life in Canada became easier as friendships deepened. Over time, I adjusted to the Canadian life, including learning to cook basic Sri Lankan dishes for my friends, inventing recipes cautiously balancing spices, lime, and salt. In Sri Lanka, I went into the kitchen only when I felt hungry. I did not know how to cook. In Canada, often I treated the friends with “invented” dishes. Siva taught me how to make sambar. White Canadians rarely use spicy ingredients such as chili powder in their meals. My friend Bob, an Australian student, prided himself on his ability to eat spicy food. To test this, I prepared an exceptionally spicy meal. Although tears streamed down his face, he finished the meal, while cursing me in jest.

In the socials of St George, ballroom dancing and square dancing were common. We all participated enthusiastically in those activities. Notable here were Siva, Surjeet, Mavis, Liz, and Anette. Even though Bob used to be a chain smoker, he gave up smoking after peer pressure from our group. “If I don’t die from lung cancer, I am going to kill you” Bob joked.

Bob was a notorious beer drinker, who could easily beat all of us in it. One weekend I went to nearby pub with Bob. We ordered some beer, while Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” played on the jukebox. Young couples drifted onto the dance floor and engaged in ballroom dancing.

“Ask someone to dance,” I urged Bob.

“No, no, I can’t, you go,” he muttered. Despite his jovial spirit, Bob never associated women—dancing and romance seemed foreign to him. Mavis joked about this, and Siva scolded her for being unkind. Quietly, I agreed with Siva.

Rogues Like No Other

In Sri Lanka, I had not used computers. The coursework and research all were computer-based, in my new university in Toronto. This compelled me to learn at least two programming languages and become adept at using a computer. Consequently, I spent many evenings after dinner at the university’s computer center, familiarizing myself with this versatile tool. In interactive computing, which was a luxury then, typing commands into the computer felt akin to operating a typewriter, often straining my fingers after long sessions.

A course in modal control, taught by the respected Professor Edward Davison in the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering needed a good knowledge in interactive APL programming. Since a homework assignment that needed APL was due the next day, I went to the computer room after dinner and used one of its interactive workstations to do the computations. Since the needed keying in of program commands was excessive, I decided to remove my Orient wristwatch and place it in my briefcase. After a while, I needed to use the nearby washroom. I went there after leaving the workstation on and keeping my briefcase near it. When I returned, I realized that someone had gone through the briefcase and stolen my wristwatch. I was quite disturbed, not because of the financial loss, but for the sentimental value of the watch. My parents had gifted it when I entered the university in Sri Lanka. I was looking for an Orient watch of similar model, and decades later found one at Hudson’s Bay shop at Richmond Mall in Vancouver.

Eyeing the South

“South,” for Canadians, means the United States (US). Siva made no secret of his wish to move there. My friend Anette Schiferl—warm, kind, mature, and from the US—told us a great deal about the US. I will never forget her kindness, for example, she volunteered to type my M.A.Sc. (Master of Applied Science) thesis, which was full of engineering analysis, on an IBM Selectric typewriter with changeable character balls.

Siva’s journey was unique. Unable to enter a university in Sri Lanka, he had joined the University of Birmingham in the United Kingdom, for the first degree and then had moved to Canada as a permanent resident. His desire was to join Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and obtain an MBA. He described MIT as the world’s leading engineering university. It was very foolish for Sri Lankans to covet Cambridge and Oxford universities in England when MIT and Harvard universities in the US were much better, he quipped. I remember that as a kid I too had wanted to get my PhD degree from the University of Cambridge in UK, but when I grew up and entered the School of Engineering at the University of Ceylon, I preferred to get my PhD from MIT.

Even though I came first among all engineering departments at the University of Ceylon the leading university in Sri Lanka, obtained a first-class honors degree in engineering, and won the University Prize for Best Performance in Engineering, I did not get a scholarship to Cambridge. Siva’s response was blunt: “That’s your luck.” Indeed, fate has its quirks. It is an ironic twist of fate that Siva went to MIT years later and obtained an MBA, while I went to MIT and obtained a PhD, and years later went from US on a Senior Fulbright Fellowship to Cambridge, and obtained my second PhD and also ScD—the so-called higher doctorate from there. That is another story for another time.

Journey to New York

Siva loved the newspaper New York Times, buying it daily and reading it religiously. One day, he proposed a road trip to New York City in Surjeet’s Volkswagen Beetle. He corrected my pronunciation along the way: “peetza” not “pissa,” “Nu York” and “Folkswagen,” not “New York” and “Volkswagen.” Since I hadn’t driven in Canada and Siva lacked a driver’s license, Surjeet would drive the whole journey. Siva slept in the back seat while I rode up in the passenger seat, navigating by paper maps—this was long before cell phones and GPS. We left Toronto early in the morning.

Since we had to stop twice on the way for food and fuel (“fule” not “fooel” as Siva explained), and also because we had to repair an engine problem too, it was the early morning of the next day when we reached the city of New York. Even though it was a tiring trip, it was relieving that we reached New York without accidents. Our fate could have been disastrous, however. While driving to New York, Surjeet grew tired and momentarily fell asleep at the wheel. The car swerved to the median of the road, but I quickly grabbed the steering wheel, preventing a disaster. This close call shook us, and we made sure to stay awake for the rest of the journey, stopping for coffee and chewing gum, playing loud music, and talking continuously.

In New York, we stayed in the house of one of Surjeet’s Indian friends, who was very tidy and methodical. He scolded us for our carelessness during driving. We went to sleep without any food. In the late morning when we woke up, there were bread, butter, jam, and chicken curry for breakfast. Reheating and eating food that had been cooked before is a common practice among Canadians and Americans.

“The first slice of the loaf has to be eaten at the very end, or the bread will become dry” Surjeet’s friend advised us. “Hey man, would there be anything left to spoil after the four of us eat a loaf of bread?” Surjeet scolded the friend.

In the evening, we went to see an Indian cultural festival. That was held in a nearby field. There were chairs for the spectators. The stage was made of tables covered with carpets. Dressed in traditional attire, Punjabis performed martial art and dances. Surjeet explained that historically, Punjabis were heavily involved in military and defense of India and Britain. Religiously the soldiers were predominantly Sikh, not Hindu. The festival featured stalls selling Indian fare like poori, paratha, samosa, gulab jamun, halwa, barfi, kulfi (Indian ice cream), and drinks like sweet lassi, which we indulged in heartily.

The next day, we visited Times Square, Central Park, and walked along Broadway, renowned for its theater. Although tickets to Broadway shows were expensive, we managed to watch a play at an off-Broadway venue and also enjoy street food before returning to Surjeet’s friend’s home. There, we discovered a cabinet stocked with various liquor. When Surjeet inquired if we could try some, his friend offered him a glass of “Drambuie,” a honey-flavored liqueur. Surjeet, however, grabbed the entire bottle and quickly finished it, prompting his friend to lock the cabinet.

To show our gratitude for the friend’s hospitality, we prepared lunch the next day with ingredients that we purchased from a nearby grocery shop. For dinner, we explored Chinatown, where the food was exceptionally delicious. Enclaves like Chinatown are a common feature in major Western cities.

Return to Toronto

Early the following morning, we began our journey back to Toronto. Along the way, we encountered yet another mishap. A piercing siren echoed, and glancing through the rearview mirror, we spotted a police car approaching us swiftly, its red and blue lights flashing in an unrelenting rhythm. Surjeet veered off the highway and brought the car to a halt. A police officer, stepping out with measured precision, inspected us closely. Holding a phone near his mouth and muttering something unintelligible, he first noted down our vehicle’s number. He wore aviator sunglasses, and a pistol hung visibly on his left side. Unlike most Americans, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face.

He demanded Surjeet’s driver’s license and the vehicle registration papers, and then asked, “Do you know the speed limit on this road?” Surjeet offered a sheepish smile without responding. The officer continued, “It’s 55 miles per hour, but you were driving at 80. The fine is $50. Pay it now.” Surjeet explained that we were Canadian students and had no cash. The officer mentioned that payment could be made using check or credit card, but when we admitted that we had neither, he stated, “In that case, mail $60 within a week, or face legal action.” He handed Surjeet a citation slip and left.

As we resumed our journey, Surjeet reassured us with confidence that American authorities had no jurisdiction to enforce fines on Canadian vehicles and would not proceed with any legal action. However, a month later, Surjeet received a letter from the New York State Court, informing him that he had been charged for non-payment of the fine and was required to appear in court. The letter also mentioned that he could settle the case by mailing $100 immediately. Sharing the cost among ourselves, we pooled the amount and mailed it to the New York court.

Reflections on New York

New York City lacked the cleanliness and charm of Toronto (at the time). Yet, upon our return, we realized it had an inexplicable allure. To a youthful and restless mind, the city represented a sense of joy despite its chaos. Knowing the challenges, the three of us resolved that living in the United States was worth pursuing.

After returning to Toronto, we discussed the allure of living in the United States. Highly motivated, we visited the US Consulate in Toronto and submitted applications for permanent residency (green card) in the United States. Three months later, Siva and Surjeet received letters of regret, stating that their applications had been declined. I received no response. Assuming that the response to my application had been lost in mail, I wasn’t particularly bothered. Then, about a month subsequent, a letter arrived from the US Department of Immigration, informing me that the first stage of my application had been approved. They requested additional documents for the second stage. I couldn’t understand why the applications of Siva and Surjeet had been rejected. Nevertheless, they genuinely wished me well.

After completing the second stage, including an in-person interview, I was granted permanent residency in the United States. However, I needed to relocate there to legalize my status. I hastily submitted the thesis for my Master’s degree (MASc) and successfully completed all the exams, including the PhD Qualifying exam, which was a requirement, at the University of Toronto. Then, skipping the graduation ceremony, I boarded a Greyhound bus to Cincinnati, Ohio, with dreams of a new beginning. Siva, Surjeet, Annette, and a few other friends accompanied me to the bus terminal to bid me farewell. Leaving Anette Schiferl behind left a heartache in me. I recalled that Anette, painstakingly, had typed my MASc thesis at the University of Toronto on an IBM Selectric typewriter. The typewriter came with character balls for special mathematical characters and Greek letters, which were needed for typing analytical research documents. Those days, there were no PCs, laptops or tablets. Also, Anette advised me to go to Cincinnati, not Boston first, because the University of Cincinnati was rich and I could easily secure a research assistantship from them. I too was eager to go to Cincinnati before Boston because Neil Armstrong, the first man who set foot on the moon, was a Professor of Aerospace Engineering at the University of Cincinnati.

Vancouver and Other Canadian Cities

British Columbia is a vast province in Canada, and Vancouver is its most prominent city, an incredibly picturesque place. That region enjoys Canada’s warmest winters, thanks to the “El Niño” phenomenon, which brings mild weather through the tranquil Pacific Ocean. Summers, too, are not excessively hot. Vancouver is surrounded by natural beauty, with the serene Pacific Ocean to the west, the Fraser River to the south, and mountains to the north and the east. The enormous Stanley Park is located in the city, similar to Central Park in New York.

Within minutes, one could be kayaking along the coast, rowing on a river, skiing on Whistler Mountain, or hiking up Grouse Mountain. Vancouver International Airport is a major hub of air travel, offering direct flights to key destinations in Asia and Europe. A short 15-minute drive takes one to the US border in the State of Washington. These factors make Vancouver a popular destination for vacationers. With Hong Kong’s return to the People’s Republic of China, wealthy Hong Kong entrepreneurs have relocated to Vancouver (mostly its suburb called Richmond) with money, causing a surge in real estate prices.

Victoria is the capital city of the province of British Columbia (BC), and is located at the end of an island called Victoria Island, off Vancouver. One needs to take a ferry or an airplane to go there from Vancouver. The provincial parliament of BC is located there. The architecture in Victoria is Victorian, and is similar to that of England. Victoria boasts the picturesque view of its harbor, China Town, Royal BC Museum, and a variety of fine restaurants.

Interactive Computer Facility at a Rural School in Morahela

Canada’s top universities are known to be Toronto, British Columbia, and McGill. McGill University is located in the city of Montréal, within the French-speaking province, Québec. I had the opportunity to visit Montréal for conferences. Québec is the only province where French is given priority. Road signs, advertisements, restaurant menus, everything is in French. Locals address you in French first and switch to English only if you cannot respond in French.

Despite this, most residents in Québec speak English fluently but prefer not to display it. The food, drink, and customs all follow French traditions. Montréal itself is a delightful city, home to over 2,000 restaurants offering cuisines from 30 different countries. Its notable landmarks include the St. Lawrence River, Mount Royal and Laurentian Mountains, and Notre-Dame Basilica. Winters bring heavy snow to Québec, while summers are warm and vibrant.

Ottawa, pronounced “Otawa” but sometimes referred to by foreigners as “Otāwa,” is the capital city of Canada, and is located in the province of Ontario. It is relatively close to Toronto and Montreal and is known for its cold climate. Country’s Parliament buildings are located in Ottawa, and are particularly striking and a key attraction.

Edmonton is the capital city of the province of Alberta and is also situated in a cold region. Known for its wealth of oil and mineral resources, Alberta is a prosperous province with a lower cost of living and taxation. Traveling by car from Vancouver to Edmonton takes approximately 14 hours via the Trans-Canada Highway. Along the way, it is common to spot wildlife such as bear and moose, which often approach the roadside, gazing at the people who stop their vehicles to admire them. It’s as if they are observing us, imagining our world to be part of their vast sanctuary. Interestingly, it is not uncommon for humans to act more uncivilized than these creatures. Feeding the wildlife is strictly prohibited. Edmonton is also home to a massive shopping complex that features a hotel and a water park. I had the privilege of visiting the University of Alberta in Edmonton as an invited guest speaker and also as an external examiner for PhD.

Saskatoon, the principal city of Saskatchewan, a central province in Canada, is notable for its large population of First Nations people (occasionally and incorrectly referred to as Red Indians). The city is surrounded by vast, flat plains and is known for its extremely cold climate. I was fortunate to visit the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon as an external examiner for doctoral programs.

The other cities that I have visited in Canada include Halifax and Truro in the province of Nova Scotia, St John’s in Newfoundland, and Winnipeg in Manitoba, mainly for conferences and visits to universities.

This ends my story about Toronto and Canada.

by Clarence de Silva