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Unravelling Sri Lanka’s great mysteries

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Asiff Hussein

Asiff Hussein, author of The Zeylonese Treasure Book on Myth, Mystery and Mystique, traces the origins of some well-known but elusive local beliefs and legends

Interviewed by Ifham Nizam


Q: The Zeylonese Treasure Book of Myth, Mystery and Mystique you wrote was a pioneering attempt at solving some yet unsolved mysteries which have eluded many. Could you elucidate some of them for the benefit of our readers?

A: The book deals with a hundred such topics, from the whereabouts of Ravana’s kingdom, the strange sanctity of Adam’s Peak, the legendary Nagas, a missing race of dwarfs, cannibalistic women, lost gold mines, buried treasure, strange phenomena and other oddities such as the mysterious female spectre known as Mohini, to name just a few.

What I have done is adopt a multi-disciplinary approach to the problem at hand, incorporating historical notices, archaeological evidence, a study of etymology or word origins, etc., to come to a tenable solution to these problems. Also, very important is to interpret historical data through a modern lens.

For example, we read in the Mahavamsa that during the reign of King Sirisanghabodhi, a Yakkha (Demon) named Rattakkhi (Red Eye) came here and made the eyes of people red, causing their deaths. This ancient account may well be a reference to a fatal epidemic that swept through Sri Lanka in the 3rd century. One of the telltale symptoms of Rattakkhi, according to the chronicle, was Red Eyes, a condition where the white of the eye becomes reddened. Although we cannot say for certain what it was, given the reference to red eyes followed by the death of the victims, we can only guess that it might have been an outbreak of a deadly mutant strain of cholera.

Another example is the origins of the ancient temple of Tirukonesvaram in Trincomalee, the origins of which are recounted in hoary old Tamil tradition, faithfully recorded by Sir Emerson Tennent in his book Ceylon, published in 1860, where it is stated: “A Hindu prince, having ascertained from the Puranas that the rock of Trincomalie was a holy fragment of the golden mountain of Meru, hurled into its present site during a conflict of the gods, repaired to Ceylon and erected upon it a temple to Siva”.

This is a very interesting account as it may suggest how the temple came to be founded. The reference to a fragment of the sacred mountain Meru flung here in a conflict between the gods may well be a recollection of some ancient meteorite that fell here and later came to be worshipped as a lingam or relic, setting in motion the building of this temple of a thousand columns that was later razed to the ground by the intolerant Portuguese conquistadors. The Hindu temple that presently stands in its place is only a shell of its former self.

Q: You have made a painstaking effort to trace the origins of some of our local legends such as the origin of Mohini. Would you care to elaborate a bit on this, how she came to be?

A: Mohini, as we know, is a sort of female spirit who is said to appear to travellers in the middle hours of the night, dressed in white, half-clad to expose her body and cradling a babe in her arms. She would beseech unsuspecting travellers to hold the child while she tightens her garment. No sooner they do so, she would vanish into thin air with her child. Her victims would take on an unusual pallor, develop a high fever and go berserk before dying an untimely death.

This belief is at least a 100 years old, probably more. Perhaps the earliest reference to it is the so-called Teldeniya Ghost mentioned by a writer simply known as L.A.D in his Some Ceylon Ghost Stories published in the Times of Ceylon, Christmas Number 1925. L.A.D says of this phantom: “It appears that her particular friends are cartmen, who rest themselves and their weary cattle by the roadside, and begin to cook a mid-night meal.

With a crying child in her arms, and tears flowing down her cheeks, she creeps from the shadows, and begs them to escort her to a neighbouring village, explaining that she has lost her way and is benighted. Beauty in distress appeals to them as it does to every gallant heart, and they immediately offer assistance. One fatherly man lifts the crying babe from her arms, and attempts to pacify it, but as he does so the girl vanishes. They search for her in bewilderment, and the baby disappears mysteriously, too.

This is more than even a cartman can stand, and they hastily yoke the bullocks to the carts, and hurry away. The following day the unfortunate man who held the baby dies suddenly, and ghostly mocking laughter is heard in the night. His relatives feel quite peeved over it all, but are helpless, and what is worse, the poor bereaved wives cannot have the satisfaction of pulling the hussy’s hair, or of biting her”.

It seems from the above account that belief in the Mohini was once not as widespread as today and it is possible that even a 100 years ago it was localised to Teldeniya and neighbouring areas. This is supported by the folk tale of Galmal Oya Pokuti recorded by Sandaruvan Lokuhewa in his Dumbara Janakata (2011) which tells of a woman named Kumarihami, who upon seeing her little son floating lifeless in a body of water, committed suicide by jumping into it.

She is said to have been reborn as Pokuti, a sort of she-demon taking her name from her pokutuor curly hair, and haunting the area known as Katubokkuva on the Teldeniya-Hunnasgiriya road in the dead of night, taking form as a beautiful woman with babe in arms and telling travellers “Aney, me daruva tikak atata ganta ko, mage redipota aenda gannakal” (Please take this child in your arms while I correct my attire). If the man as much as holds the child, he would certainly die, this legend tells us.

Q: You have also made a detailed attempt to trace the origins of our lost tribes, such as the Nagas. What is your take on the Nagas, did they really exist in ancient Lanka or are they the stuff of myth?

A: Although I was earlier very sceptical that such a race known as Nagas existed in our country, I have lately revised this view to admit the possibility that they might have well lived here in ancient times.

These Nagas,if at all they existed, were probably Austronesian or Malayo-Polynesian pirates and seafarers. These were the folk, known as Orang Lautor ‘Sea Peoples,’ who had made the sea their principal domain and who in later times possibly settled in the southern parts of our island. A good many old accounts connect them with piracy, seafaring and settlements on the coast or river mouths.

The ancient Sinhalese chronicle, Dipavamsa speaks of the pious Naga named Maniakkhika who lived in Lanka in the time of the Buddha, around the 6th or 5th century BC, when it states: “At the mouth of the Kalyani river, there lived a Naga together with his children and a great retinue of Nagas”. We also read in the Mahavamsa that the Naga King Mahodara had his Naga Kingdom”in the Ocean that covered half a thousand yojanas”. This work also tells us that when the Theri Sanghamitta was conveying the great Bodhi tree from the dominion of Emperor Asoka to Sri Lanka and had fared forth into the sea, the Nagas practiced their magic to win it.

Hoary old local tradition also records that there once lived in a village, to the West of Anuradhapura, a beautiful woman named Hema who got romantically involved with a merchant who resorted to Mantota. When he left for his country, the infatuated maiden, unable to bear the delay in his return, took to the sea one night in desperate hope of finding him. She was captured by a Naga-Raja or Naga King to whom she preached Buddhism and who, being pleased with her, rewarded her with a valuable gemstone.

Such stories, though of a seemingly mythical character, suggest that the Nagas were thought to be a seafaring nation, thus connecting them to the Malayo-Polynesians. Although the Nagas of these stories seem to have been thought of as water-spirits, living beneath the waters, it is possible that the idea evolved from the sea-pirating activities of maritime Oceanic or Malayo-Polynesian peoples which is known to have taken place in ancient times. This idea finds support in Kshmendra’s Bodhisattvavadana Kalpalata of the 10th century which records serious depredations against maritime trade in the Gulf of Bengal by Naga sea pirates from the days of King Asoka.

This suggests a connection of the Nagas with the freebooting sea people in the seas in and around West Malayo-Indonesia who are very ancient and already mentioned in early Chinese accounts of the region.
It is quite possible that it was the Naga race that introduced to our island the Oruva or Outrigger canoe, the coconut and the culture of betel chewing, not to mention a faint mongoloid strain found among some Sinhalese. It is pertinent that Sinhalese folk tradition holds that the betel vine was introduced from the Naga world and this was known among the ancient Austronesians as bulu which could well account for the Sinhala word for betel bulat, from bulu-pat ‘betel leaf’.

Q: In your book, you have propounded some interesting new theories, including the rather outlandish view that the Skanda god of Kataragama had his origins in Alexander the Great. How would you justify such a view?

A: Whether we like it or not, there are many similarities between Alexander and Skanda. Both the names Alexander and Skanda are very similar sounding especially when we consider that the eastern form of Alexander was Iskandar or Sikkandar.

Strangely, the Sinhalese tradition also knew the Kataragama deity as Iskanda, which it attributed to the Brahmins, who, wanting to give him a name and knowing well that he would do heroic deeds and end up possessing a heap of heads, called him Iskanda (Mountain of heads). Iskanda is said to have, as a young man, committed all sorts of heroic acts and a lot of terrible things and was thus exiled by way of a ship that eventually landed in Devundara whence he proceeded eastwards on foot a long way (katara) when he came to a village which was henceforth called Kataragama.

This derivation is no doubt due to folk etymology. This means that when the original meaning of a particular word has been lost over time, later folk tend to give other explanations as to its meaning. So here we find the older name of Iskanda being preserved bringing it closer to the name by which Alexander was known in the East, Iskandar.

Alexander was a prince of Macedon and Skanda, too, we know, was given the princely epithet of Skanda Kumara ‘Prince Skanda’. It might also reflect Alexander’s supposed claim to be the son of Zeus, in this case the epithet kumara being simply a reference to his sonship in relation to Zeus of Ammon whom later Hinduism must have confounded with Siva, thus making him to be a son of Siva.

Alexander was also regarded as the Warrior par excellence and Skanda was known as Mahasena ‘Great Army’ meaning a commander of the Army. That he was once considered the God of War and may have been originally worshipped by soldiers may be the reason why he was called Kanda Surindu Mahasen (The Soldier God Skanda). We also know that the Kataragama deity was much feared, being regarded as the god of war, and in the olden days struck terror to those who even as much as heard his name. Alexander, too, we know, was both loved and feared in his lifetime, often more feared than loved due to his warmongering and reputation as a stern administrator. In contrast, Murugan, with whom he is today often confounded, especially by Hindus, is never feared as such by his devotees.

Another proof of Skanda’s connection to Alexander is seen in the velor lance as the symbol of the deity which can be seen planted in the ground at Kataragama. Pilgrims would bring iron lances which they leave as votive offerings and silver needles with which they pierce their cheeks and tongues. These are actually regarded as little lances and taken to be symbols of the deity himself.

The fact that the lance was regarded as the symbol of the deity suggests his military character was deemed to be very important by his worshippers of an earlier age who came up with these rituals. Likewise, we find Alexander being depicted holding a lance or spear as his weapon of choice in the Issus Mosaic which is believed to be a Roman copy of an original painting by Philoxenus and which was produced during Alexander’s lifetime or shortly afterwards.

The similarities go on. Alexander conquered Persia whose Shahs of later times were seated on the Peacock Throne and to this day the vehicle of Skanda or Kataragama Deviyo as he is called locally is the peacock. Alexander encouraged mixed marriages between the Macedonians of the West and Persians of the East and himself married a Sogdian princess named Roxana, while in local tradition we have Skanda the foreigner marrying the Vedda girl Valli. Such resemblances are too close to be dismissed.

Another possible vestige of Macedonian influence that survived was to be seen a little more than a 100 years ago during the festival of the shrine that took place in the Esala period (July-August). C.A.Murray, a British Government Agent who supervised the Kataragama festival in 1897, had this to say about it: “Six women take part in the procession, walking in front of the elephant. They have their hair done up in a peculiar Grecian style, the secret of which it is said no one can master”.

The supposed date of Skanda’s arrival here is also pertinent, since it places it fairly close to Alexander’s period. The Okanda Devala near the beach in Yala is said to have been erected on the site where Skanda landed in the island on his way to Katararagama about 2,000 years ago.

What we must understand here is that when a deity is said to visit a particular country, it does not necessarily mean that he in his human form prior to deification physically visited the locality but more probably meant that his cult had spread to these parts. Thus, it is possible that Greek or Macedonian worshippers of Alexander, possibly those given to military pursuits, perhaps even mercenaries, had arrived here long ago before establishing his worship in the country. This is supported by the finding of a Greek or Macedonian coin in Tissamaharama in the Southern part of the country. It is therefore quite possible that soldiers or mercenaries from the Balkan or Mediterranean region, or who knows, even Hellenized Egypt, where Alexander was worshipped following his death had settled here in times long past.

There is a lot we can discern from old stories and legends but it depends how far we are willing to think out of the box and interpret them through a modern lens.



Features

Coercive laws recipe for future misrule

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by Jehan Perera

The NPP government is going after powerful figures from the past and present who have engaged in corruption, fraud and criminal activity in a way that no previous government in Sri Lanka has done. Former ministers, politicians and senior state officials are among those facing investigations and legal proceedings. The government has placed before Parliament a document listing 50 cases involving corruption, fraud and other crimes. These include not only financial offences but also cases relating to the Easter Sunday attacks, the killings of Lasantha Wickrematunge and Wasim Thajudeen, the disappearance of Prageeth Ekneligoda and attacks on journalists Keith Noyahr and Upali Tennakoon.

The significance of this effort is that it can demonstrate that nobody is above the law, regardless of political connections or social standing, which will help restore public confidence in institutions that have long been distrusted. It could also recover public resources, improve the investment climate and strengthen the foundations for a more prosperous and just Sri Lanka. When criticised for focusing on the past and not the present, the government position is that these investigations were initiated under earlier governments, particularly between 2015 and 2019, and that it is now allowing investigators to proceed to deal with the backlog without political interference.

But there is an aspect of the government’s approach that is less justifiable. While pursuing past wrongdoing by powerful individuals, it is also advancing a triumvirate of draft laws that could give the state sweeping powers over citizens, organisations and dissent in the present and future. The draft Prevention of Terrorism legislation, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill raise serious questions about the over-centralisation of power. Each of these laws strengthens the powers of the state while weakening the rights and safeguards that protect people from their misuse and thus questions the basic rights of people in democracy where ‘the power of the people is vested in the government’. This is a recipe for future misrule rather than the rule of law. As the well-known saying goes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Proposed Laws

The real test of system change, for which the government obtained an overwhelming mandate, requires not only a government willing to hold others accountable, but one prepared to subject itself to the same principles of legality, transparency and restraint. The three proposed laws that are particularly important in this regard are the Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill. Each of these draft laws has been presented as serving a legitimate purpose. Preventing terrorism, combating organised crime and ensuring that NGOs do not facilitate money laundering or terrorist financing are proper responsibilities of the state. Sri Lanka has international obligations in these areas, and no responsible government can disregard them. However, the existence of a legitimate objective does not justify every means adopted to achieve it.

The proposed Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill illustrates the problem. Although its definition of terrorism draws on a model developed by a former United Nations Special Rapporteur, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka has warned that the definition of terrorism extends beyond the model and could bring legitimate political protest, trade union action and civil disobedience within the scope of counter-terrorism legislation. Its concerns also include prolonged detention, inadequate judicial oversight and restrictions on access to legal counsel. These are objections that go to the heart of the relationship between the citizen and the state. The government cannot credibly promise to protect democratic freedoms while creating powers that could be used to restrict them. It is necessary for the government to reassess the draft through transparent consultation and revise provisions that could criminalise legitimate dissent.

The Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill raises similar concerns. It is presented as giving effect to the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organised Crime, which Sri Lanka ratified in 2006. The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) has argued that the convention does not require many of the bill’s provisions. The proposed law extends to a broad range of offences, permits detention orders lasting up to a year, makes confessions to police admissible for purposes of legal evidence, and introduces extensive surveillance powers. A law intended to dismantle criminal networks should not create a parallel system of exceptional powers that could be applied far beyond organised crime. Nor should safeguards developed through years of experience with abuses under the Prevention of Terrorism Act be weakened through legislation bearing a different name. The government should review whether or not existing laws could be used effectively to control these crimes or whether each exceptional power is necessary.

Civil Society

The proposed NGO Registration and Supervision Bill presents another test of the government’s intentions. The government may reasonably seek transparency in the finances of organisations receiving public or foreign funds, including measures to prevent money laundering and terrorist financing. It seeks to justify its overreach on the grounds of meeting the internationally mandated requirements of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) for the Asia-Pacific region. But these objectives do not justify placing civil society and NGOs under excessive administrative control when even the FATF ranks them as low to medium risks. The draft bill would require registration and renewal, impose extensive obligations on organisations and empower authorities to suspend or deregister them on broadly framed grounds. It is important to redraft provisions that confer excessive discretion over registration, renewal, suspension and deregistration of NGOs.

Among the concerns raised by United Nations human rights special rapporteurs with regard to the draft NGO law are provisions requiring organisations to align with government policies and restrictions that could affect advocacy, dissent and freedom of association. The implications extend well beyond organisations that engage directly with the government. Community groups, human rights organisations, independent researchers and organisations working on reconciliation or accountability could find their activities constrained by uncertainty over how these provisions might be interpreted. Organisations that criticise government policies are not thereby working against the country. Their freedom to do so is part of what distinguishes a democracy from a system in which the government determines which opinions and activities are acceptable.

The government has generated considerable public goodwill through its pursuit of corruption and criminality. It should not assume that this goodwill gives it an unlimited mandate to strengthen the coercive powers of the state. The NPP knows from its own history that governments can treat dissent as a threat and use the machinery of the state against their opponents. There is still time to correct the drafts through transparent public consultation, narrow definitions of offences, meaningful judicial control over detention and surveillance, and effective remedies against arbitrary decisions. A government that pursues corruption while weakening safeguards against state abuse risks undermining its own achievements. Besides bringing to light the abuse of power by previous governments, the NPP government needs to build a system in which no future government can abuse power in the belief they can get away with it.

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Features

Quality assurance without quality enhancement: The irony of university QA

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By Ramya Kumar

According to the Quality Assurance Council (QAC) of the University Grants Commission (UGC), quality assurance (QA) refers to “the means (i.e. the policies, attitudes, actions, procedures, etc.), by which an institution can guarantee with confidence and certainty, that the standards and quality of its educational provision are being maintained and enhanced”.

An expansive structure has been in place since 2005 to govern and implement QA processes within the state university system. The QAC is the focal point at the UGC that implements external reviews of state universities and institutes. Each university has its own Centre for Quality Assurance (CQA) tasked with performing QA in line with QAC directives. Faculties, in turn, have Internal Quality Assurance Cells (IQAC) performing their own QA; they are answerable to the CQA.

The big question is whether this all-encompassing top-down QA system, that in many ways undermines the internal dynamics of university governance, actually supports universities to enhance the quality of education. This article highlights some concerns.

Top-down check-box activities

The QAC conducts external reviews of universities and degree programmes. A review team appointed by the UGC (who may or may not have experience in the institution/programme in question) examines the self-evaluation report submitted by the said institution/programme. The team then conducts a site visit to verify the claims made in the university’s self-evaluation report, clarify issues identified during the desk review, and examine how QA procedures operate in practice. The team holds meetings with the university administration, members of the Council and Senate, Deans, Heads of Departments, academic and non-academic staff, students, and others. Following the visit, a draft report is submitted to the relevant institution/programme for comment before final publication. The reviewed institution/programme then prepares and publishes an action plan addressing the recommendations, with subsequent monitoring of progress.

There are some worthy QA initiatives under implementation, such as improving facilities for students with disabilities and strengthening mechanisms to address sexual- and gender-based violence. However, for the most part, QA activities have little to do with improving the quality of education. They are mostly preoccupied with monitoring faculty and department websites, digital transformation, student feedback, subject evaluation, course evaluation, peer evaluation, and, more recently, staff appraisal. These activities, which consume an inordinate amount of time—so precious at understaffed universities—have become check-box activities completed to generate evidence for the next review. Below is an excerpt of a conversation between two academics (1 and 2) that conveys how QA plays out at universities (reproduced with permission).

1: … .it’s like social media you know, like posting things on Facebook or twitter or Instagram. When people do a lot of social media, everything they do, they do thinking, “okay I’m going to post it in this way… this I have to put on my Instagram.” QA is a little like that… everything is considered in light of, “ah we can use this for the review, as evidence… for example very recently we were encouraged to have all the things that we do in our department in the faculty newsletter so then they can put in the review. Every little thing has to be noted down….

2: And with pictures and all…

1: At the very least it has to be written so that you have written evidence .. you can’t be doing something for the sake of doing something or because it is good for the department … and sometimes people tell me “oh yea that’s a good idea we can fit that under this x, y section of the review..”

2: Yea, and nobody really thinks about the actual outcome… whether it’s actually helping anyone..

1: I also find that a lot of the words that we used in different ways have now been co-opted to the QA discourse ..including quality.. I can’t actually say what I want as an “outcome”, for example, that the outcome of this workshop is that my students “think about” … then I am told “ah but no that’s not one of the Bloom’s taxonomy words, “think about”.…

2: And the worst part is these medical and agriculture people, these types of people go around spreading it like some kind of gospel!

1: Yea, this cookie cutter way of doing things, they think is the height of innovativeness or creativity, when actually it is so mundane … for me the most awful thing about it is like some fungus of mundanity has taken over through QA reviews.

2: yea, when you say QA, my mind closes off immediately and I stop listening…

Auditing everything but power

QA leaves out crucial aspects of university governance. For instance, there is no review or assessment of the “quality” of university administrations under Criterion 1 or the integrity of procedures governing the promotion of academic staff under Criterion 6 of the institutional reviews.

The majority in the Council—the university’s executive and governing body, which is responsible for selecting the Vice-Chancellor (VC)—are appointed in ad hoc fashion. Apart from the Ex-Officio members in the Council (VC, Deans, etc.), and the two members elected by the Senate, the remainder are appointed by the UGC with no formal consultation or vetting procedure. The VC appointment process described in UGC Circular No. 03/2023 exemplifies how an ostensibly technical process can become entangled in political sycophancy. The Registrar invites applications for the position of VC through advertisement. Applicants must submit a curriculum vitae, a statement of vision for the university and supporting documents. The University Council appoints a three-member Search Committee of senior academics to encourage “eminent persons” to apply, while the UGC appoints a former VC from another university to “observe” the selection process.

A Special Meeting of the University Council is convened. Candidates are interviewed and must make a presentation to the Council Members, followed by questions. Each Council member “gives marks” for seven prescribed criteria: strategic focus (20%), effective leadership (20%), holistic thinking/conceptual skills (10%), academic and research excellence (15%), personal integrity (10%), professional communication (10%) and managerial competence (15%). Marks are averaged, and the Council recommends three candidates to the UGC in rank order. The UGC-appointed observer separately submits a confidential report on the selection process.

This procedure is expected to guarantee quality, but does it? Applications are submitted to the Council Members, who have been appointed on questionable bases, and who are expected to review the applications and give scores, based on objective assessments. But, in reality, most Council Members are manipulated by VC candidates, who often have personal ties with them. The UGC-appointed observer usually has no genuine interest in the outcome. And there is no way for anyone to actually question the Council’s decision once it is made. Although the highest-ranked candidate may ultimately be appointed, the selection remains a political decision made by the President, who retains the discretion to appoint any one of the three.

External reviews also do not look into the promotions of academic staff, except to scrutinise whether there are policies and procedures in place to govern promotion. Academic staff may apply for promotion to Professor once they satisfy the prescribed eligibility requirements, which typically include the period of service, academic qualifications, research and publication achievements, teaching experience, and contributions to the university and wider community. Applications are evaluated against specified criteria, with research output and academic contributions assessed through documentary evidence and expert evaluation. Under the UGC’s scheme for Professors, two experts from outside the applicant’s institution assess specified aspects of research and knowledge dissemination. Again, beneath this technical process, which is externally evaluated, lies a problematic points-based scheme that can be manipulated and abused with impunity.

Rethinking university QA

Like the VC election process and the schemes of promotion for academic staff, QA reviews are open to manipulation. Before a review, there is a chaotic rush to complete evidence gathering and reporting. Academics leave all other work aside, including at times their teaching, to focus on completing documentation and preparing reports. The standardised criteria in the review manuals and scoring sheets often do not reflect differences in disciplines and institutional contexts. But this does not really matter because any serious problems experienced by institutions or programmes are hastily brushed under the carpet to conceal any evidence that could taint the review. The goal is to obtain an A or at least a B grade at whatever cost.

QA may result in positive change if it moves beyond top-down check-box activities towards internally designed and owned processes encompassing all aspects of university governance, led by departments and faculties, and supported by adequate resources. The current QA system needs to be dismantled and replaced by procedures that are accountable, not to the UGC, but to our students and the communities we serve.

(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna)

. Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

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Features

Down Memory Lane — the Grand 20th Edition!

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Down Memory Lane: Ready to sing again

Yes, Down Memory Lane, the beloved Sing-Along concert series that first struck a chord, way back in 1997, returns for its landmark 20th edition this Saturday, 17th October, at the beautiful Bolgoda Grand Resort, Moratuwa town centre.

Having celebrated its glorious 25th anniversary with the show in 2023, this milestone 20th concert promises to be even more special.

The organisers, the ever-popular Moratuwa Arts Forum, are pulling out all the stops to present yet another unforgettable evening, brimming with camaraderie, fellowship, and pure nostalgia.

Get ready for two-and-a-half hours of non-stop singing as veteran vocalists, from the Moratuwa Arts Forum, will take the stage to lead and inspire the happy audience to sing, sing and sing to their hearts’ content.

The repertoire? Absolutely magical, according to the organisers.

Veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike: Will handle the evening’s proceedings / Priya Peiris: Event Conceptor

Around 40 golden oldies — from timeless English vintage evergreens and hits from the 50s to the 90s, to toe-tapping calypsos, soulful American plantation melodies, rousing cowboy and Dixieland favourites, aa well as cherished Sinhala standards. All to be sung with much gusto!

This year’s dedicated organising committee comprises Brian Coorey (Chairman), Priya Peiris (Event Conceptor), Hiran Fernando, Suranga Fernando, Viranjan Perera, Hemka Fernando and Neelesh Silva. Guidance and support comes from Moratuwa Arts Forum President Sarana Guneratne and Secretary Chandani Silva.

Adding his signature charm to the evening, as Master of Ceremonies, will be the veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike.

Don’t miss this landmark celebration of music and memories!

For further details, contact Hiran Fernando on 0772636446 or WhatsApp 0783636446.

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