Features
Ekagei kaema (polyandry) – a way of life in the Kandyan highlands

by Jayantha Perera
Hingula is a small bazaar 60 miles from Colombo on the Colombo-Kandy Road. A narrow, tarred road starts from there, and a signboard says, ‘To Aluth Nuwara Devalayala.’ The logo of the Archaeological Department on the signboard indicates the devalaya (temple) is a state-protected archaeological site.
The temple is about two miles from the bazaar. The road winds through a breathtaking vista of green rice terraces cascading from low hills to narrow lowlands. The rice terraces, like thin carpets with precise lengths and widths, create a mesmerising sight. Large Mara (Samanea saman) trees and patches of tall teak trees provide shade to pedestrians. A rubber plantation and tiny homesteads with arecanut palms interspersed with clove gardens, fruit trees, and pepper vines displaying vibrant colours in sunlight. The winding road takes a right turn by a large open hut. It goes over the shoe bridge that spans a dry stream bed before arriving at the Devalgama Junction. There are several kiosks, and one of them is a tea boutique where old men read newspapers and chit-chat without any hurry to leave. My research assistant, the jeep driver, and I entered the kiosk and ordered tea with seen banis (a small round bun with melted sugar).
Our arrival at the village was met with a palpable sense of caution. This initial reaction is significant, reflecting the villagers’ wariness towards outsiders. Those at the kiosk, though initially reluctant to engage in conversation, studied our Mitsubishi Jeep with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. A man, perhaps the boldest among them, asked, “Policye mahathwaruda?” (Are you Police officers?) I reassured them that we were not and explained our plan to study the cooperative aspects of farming, particularly in rice farming and irrigation water management. However, they quickly dispersed, leaving the tea kiosk empty.
We visited the temple and worshipped the Dadimunda Deiyo (God). When we came out of the temple, Kapu Mahaththaya (the lay official of the temple) was waiting for us. He was a charming middle-aged man with a friendly smile. He had received a message from the Government Agent of Kegalle District that a team of researchers from Colombo was coming to Devalgama. He invited us for lunch at his aunt’s house. The house was an old waluwwa (mansion). Old paintings and photographs covered the walls of the large dining room. Two giant elephant tusks mounted on two mahogany blocks stood at the entrance.
I told Kapu Mahattaya we were looking for a hamlet to research the cooperative aspects of farming. He recommended Devith hamlet. I asked him to help us find a place to stay for a few months. He said residents might refuse to keep three young men in their homes. He advised us to remain where caste does not hamper our work.
Kapu Mahattaya informed us he owns a hut in a rice field. His wage workers seasonally stay there. The hut has a cement floor and a thatched roof. Two large windows open to the rice fields, bringing in sunlight and a cooling breeze. The two windows and the only door can be locked from inside. He showed us a shallow well just by the rice fields. There is a small toilet behind the house. He promised to find a woman to cook our meals.
We walked to the rice fields behind the house. The closest mountain formed a horseshoe with a small flat area in the middle for a pathaha (pond). A natural spring from a mountain watered it. Local legends say Dadimunda Deiyo caused a water spring to send water to the pond by striking the ground with his staff. We could see the mist gradually covering the hilltops and felt cold.
Kapu Mahattaya walked with us to meet an old woman. She agreed to cook our meals and told us to come to her hut for lunch and dinner. She wanted us to buy rice, vegetables, curry and chilli powder, salt, cooking oil, and coconuts from a nearby boutique. She told us we should have lunch before noon and dinner by 5.30 pm. We gave her Rs. 100 as an advance, which she happily accepted.
We unloaded our bags and sent the ARTI jeep back to Colombo. Kapu Mahattaya visited us in the evening. I told him we were happy to stay in the hut and thanked him for his generosity. When I asked him how to lock the hut from the outside, he promised to buy a padlock and a hasp from Hingula. He took us to the boutique behind the hut and introduced us to its owner and his wife. They offered us tea and hulang viscothu (air biscuits). We bought five pounds of rice, eggs, a packet of curry powder, salt, coconuts, vegetables, and a bottle of cooking oil from the boutique and delivered them to our cook. She cooked rice and a brinjal curry and prepared pol sambal for dinner.
We had kimbula banis (flat, hard buns) and sweetened plain tea for breakfast at the kadey. We then visited a randomly selected few houses, introduced ourselves, and explained why we stayed in the village. The villagers were cordial and particularly interested in our caste, marital status, and employment. This interest in our personal information is significant as it underscores the importance of social status and personal history in the community. An old man told us that there were two unresolved murder cases in the village. He wondered whether we were CID (police intelligence) officers who wanted to reopen the murder investigations.
Our interaction with villagers improved when Kanthi joined us as a field assistant. She was a Kapu Mahattaya’s relative. She was in her late thirties, divorced, and came from a pelanthiya (high social status group) in a nearby hamlet. She graduated from Peradeniya University with a degree in economics and worked as a research assistant in a development project. While in Kandy, she married a colleague against her parents’ advice. They ostracised her from the family for marrying an outsider. The marriage failed in two years, and she returned to her parents.
Kanthi introduced villagers to us, paying attention to their caste, class, and employment status. First, she introduced us to three feudal pelanthiya families who owned most of the village land. Kapu Mahattaya’s family was one of them. Then she introduced us to several goigama (cultivator caste) middle-class families. Some owned small pieces of land, and others were tenants. Kanthi took us to high-caste and goigama families before visiting achari (blacksmith) and vahumpura (potter) families. They were service castes who played an essential role in the temple’s festivals. Some of them cultivated temple land on lease and performed temple duties.
The villagers considered Kanthi to be a reliable person. They were happy to talk to us when she was with us. At our initial interviews, Kanthi answered the questions before the villagers answered them! She was a walking databank. Villagers checked their facts and numbers with her before answering our questions. They respected her because of her work to educate poor children and her readiness to help them regardless of their caste or class. After her father’s death, she became the de facto chief of her family. She managed rice and other crop cultivation on her ancestral lands.
Kanthi stayed with us for fieldwork from 9 am to 5.30 pm. She never visited us at our hut or invited us home. She preferred to discuss fieldwork arrangements at the tea boutique before the villagers. However, after two weeks, the villagers lost interest in our work and did not linger to listen to our discussions.
Kanthi taught us the structure of the village community and how economic, social, and political alliances overlap. She explained how pelantiyas go up and down in the social status ladder mainly because of debt, litigation, and gambling. I was interested in studying Kandyan marriage alliances such as diga (virilocal) and binna (matrilocal) and inheritance customs. However, she was reluctant to discuss issues with me because she did not want to reveal family tensions over inheritance in the context of her divorce.
One day, Kanthi brought a large cane basket of food. Her family had returned from a wedding and brought lots of food; she got a portion for us. While enjoying the food at the tea kiosk, she introduced us to a young man named Vijay. Vijay lived in Colombo, where he had a motorcycle business. Later, I asked Kanthi about him. She smiled and told me he visited his home only once a month. He was a married man, and his wife lived in the hamlet. Then she said Vijay and his brother, Ratne, shared one wife. It was a polyandrous marital arrangement known as ‘ekgei kanawa’ (eat and live together as one household). The three – Vijay, Ratne, and their wife, Kumari – maintained one household.
Kanthi was an excellent storyteller. One day she delved into the ekgei kaema institution in detail. Kumari was her friend and shared her secrets with her. As I was not a member of the village community, Kanthi did not mind telling me what she knew. Although Kumari was married to the two brothers, her favourite was Ratne, a farmer who lived in the village. Vijay wanted to keep Kumari from his elder brother, Ratne. He yielded to his parents’ pressure and agreed to share Kumari with Ratne in one household. The parents of Vijay and Ratne owned a large tract of ancestral land. They wanted to keep it from fragmenting through inheritance and succession. Their strategy was to get a ‘common’ wife for the two brothers and accept their ‘common’ children as heirs to the ancestral estate.
Vijay wanted to sell his property share to raise money and start a business in Kegalle. But his father opposed the proposal and told him to live with his brother and Kumari or leave the family. Vijay hesitated and then agreed to keep a joint household with his brother and Kumari. Kumari’s parents told her to marry Ratne and later insisted that she accept Vijay as her co-husband. She did not refuse because she knew her parents were keen to improve their social and economic status by having access to the large rice field jointly owned by Vijay and Ratne.
The two brothers informed Kumari in advance of their sleeping plans with her. Vijay and Ratne had no problem in this regard, as Vijay lived outside the village. Ratne and Kumari had lived a happy family life. Vijay’s monthly conjugal access to Kumari for a day or two did not disturb their peace at home. Soon, Vijay became a drunkard. When he returned home for a few days, he went out with his friends to Hingula and returned home after midnight. Ratne respected the ekgei kaema arrangement and always found an excuse to leave home when Vijay came home. Ratne was worried about Kumari, as, on several occasions, Vijay had assaulted her.
Kanthi explained the root cause of the new tension at Kumari’s house. Ratne wanted a child, but Vijay did not. Vijay feared that Ratne might impregnate Kumari as they were usually together. Ratne was willing to suspend his access to his wife for a month or more so that Vijay could impregnate Kumari, but on one condition—the next child had to be his. Kanthi said the proposal was risky and was against tradition. The children of a household that followed ekgei kaema rules were considered ‘common’ children of co-husbands, making them co-heirs to their parent’s property.
Knowing a child’s biological father might encourage the co-father to ill-treat the child. Also, if Vijay or Ratne were infertile, the proposed arrangement would not work. Such tensions would destroy the ekgei kana marriage, affecting the undivided property. Ratne was willing to treat Vijay’s child as his own if Ratne failed to beget an heir. Vijay was resentful of such arrangements and thought Kumari was behind such proposals. Kanthi worried that one day, the two brothers would resort to violence to resolve their relationship with Kumari, who had no voice in the proposals and negotiations.
Kanthi knew several other families that followed the ekgei kana arrangement. Tensions it could generate over children, spouses, and undivided property were usually kept as family secrets and never revealed to outsiders.
Devith hamlet is not an idyllic village community. It always has social tensions arising from caste, class, social status, and social arrangements such as ekgei kaema. People have developed tension management schemes as part of the village social organisation. The critical tension management lever is the rigid caste hierarchy and associated purity or impurity. Another is the belief that the mighty God, Dadimunda, controls the area and keeps an eye on the moral character of the local population. The temple murals depict the God as an elite Kandyan aristocrat. He punishes those who violate norms, customs, and rituals. The belief in fate also plays a crucial role in legitimising the caste hierarchy and managing tensions.
One is born into a low-caste family or lives a comfortable life as a feudal landlord because of past bad or good karma (action). The power of gossip and rumour is more potent than any of the above levers. Kanthi always cautioned me about gossip and rumours. She told me if I had visited her at her home, her neighbours and relatives would have suspected that she had found a lover or a man to marry her. They would have built a ‘reality’ on that assumption as part of the village narrative.
Features
Sri Lanka’s Foreign Policy amid Geopolitical Transformations: 1990-2024 – Part I

Sri Lanka’s survival and independence have historically depended on accurately identifying foreign policy priorities, selecting viable strategies as a small island state, and advancing them with prudence. This requires an objective assessment of the shifting geopolitical landscape through a distinctly Sri Lankan strategic lens. Consequently, foreign policy has been central to Sri Lanka’s statecraft, warranted by its pivotal location in the Indian Ocean—adjacent to South Asia yet separated by a narrow stretch of water.
Amid pivotal geopolitical transformations in motion across South Asia, in the Indian Ocean, and beyond, the formulation and implementation of Sri Lanka’s foreign policy has never been more critical to its national security. Despite the pressing need for a cohesive policy framework, Sri Lanka’s foreign policy, over the past few decades, has struggled to effectively respond to the challenges posed by shifting geopolitical dynamics. This article examines the evolution of Sri Lanka’s foreign policy and its inconsistencies amid shifting geopolitical dynamics since the end of the Cold War.
First
, the article examines geopolitical shifts in three key spaces—South Asia, the Indian Ocean, and the global arena—since the end of the Cold War, from Sri Lanka’s strategic perspective. Building on this, second, it analyses Sri Lanka’s foreign policy responses, emphasising its role as a key instrument of statecraft. Third, it explores the link between Sri Lanka’s foreign policy dilemmas during this period and the ongoing crisis of the post-colonial state. Finally, the article concludes that while geopolitical constraints persist, Sri Lanka’s ability to adopt a more proactive foreign policy depends on internal political and economic reforms that strengthen democracy and inclusivity.
Shifting South Asian Strategic Dynamics
Geopolitical concerns in South Asia—Sri Lanka’s immediate sphere—take precedence, as the country is inherently tied to the Indo-centric South Asian socio-cultural milieu. Sri Lanka’s foreign policy has long faced challenges in navigating its relationship with India, conditioned by a perceived disparity in power capabilities between the two countries. This dynamic has made the ‘India factor’ a persistent consideration in Sri Lanka’s strategic thinking. As Ivor Jennings observed in 1951, ‘India thus appears as a friendly but potentially dangerous neighbour, to whom one must be polite but a little distant’ (Jennings, 1951, 113).The importance of managing the ‘India Factor’ in Sri Lankan foreign policy has grown further with India’s advancements in military strength, economic development, and the knowledge industry, positioning it as a rising global great power on Sri Lanka’s doorstep.
India’s Strategic Rise
Over the past three decades, South Asia’s geopolitical landscape has undergone a profound transformation, driven by India’s strategic rise as a global great power. Barry Buzan (2002:2) foresees this shift within the South Asian regional system as a transition from asymmetric bipolarity to India-centric unipolarity. India’s continuous military advancements have elevated it to the fourth position in the Global Firepower (GFP) index, highlighting its formidable conventional war-making capabilities across land, sea, and air (Global Firepower, 2024). It currently lays claims to being the world’s third-largest military, the fourth-largest Air Force, and the fifth-largest Navy.
India consistently ranks among the fastest-growing major economies, often surpassing the global average. According to Forbes India, India is projected to be the world’s fifth-largest economy in 2025, with a real GDP growth rate of 6.5% (Forbes, January 10, 2025). India’s strategic ascendance is increasingly driven by its advancements in the knowledge industry. The country is actively embracing the Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR) and emerging as the Digital Public Infrastructure (DPI) hub of South Asia. However, India’s rise has a paradoxical impact on its neighbours. On one hand, it offers them an opportunity to integrate into a rapidly expanding economic engine. On the other, it heightens concerns over India’s dominance, leaving them feeling increasingly overshadowed by the regional giant.
Despite significant geo-strategic transformations, the longstanding antagonism and strategic rivalry between India and Pakistan have persisted into the new millennium, continuing to shape South Asia’s security landscape. Born in 1947 amid mutual hostility, the two countries remained locked in a multi-dimensional conflict encompassing territorial disputes, power equilibrium, threat perceptions, accusations of interference in each other’s domestic affairs, and divergent foreign policy approaches. The acquisition of nuclear weapons by both countries in 1998 added a new dimension to their rivalry.
The SAARC process has been a notable casualty of the enduring Indo-Pakistani rivalry. Since India’s boycott of the Islamabad Summit in response to the 2016 Uri attack in Kashmir, the SAARC process has remained in limbo. Countries like Sri Lanka, which seek to maintain equally amicable relations with both India and Pakistan, often find themselves in awkward positions due to the ongoing rivalry between them. One of the key challenges for Sri Lanka’s foreign policy is maintaining strong relations with Pakistan while ensuring its ties with India remain unaffected. India now actively promotes regional cooperation bodies in South Asia, excluding Pakistan, favouring broader frameworks such as BIMSTEC. While Sri Lanka can benefit greatly from engaging with these regional initiatives, it must carefully navigate its involvement to avoid inadvertently aligning with India’s efforts to contain Pakistan. Maintaining this balance will require sharp diplomatic acumen.
India’s expansive naval strategy, especially its development of onshore naval infrastructure, has positioned Sri Lanka within its maritime sphere of influence. As part of the Maritime Infrastructure Perspective Plan (MIPP) launched in 2015 to enhance operational readiness and surveillance capabilities, India is developing an alternative nuclear submarine base for the Eastern Command under Project Varsha (Deccan Chronicle, 22.11.2016). This base is located in Rambilli village, 50 km southwest of Visakhapatnam and 1,200 km from Colombo (Chang, 2024). Additionally, INS Dega, the naval air base at Visakhapatnam, is being expanded to accommodate Vikrant’s MiG-29K and Tejas fighter aircraft.
Another key strategic development in India’s ascent that warrants serious attention in Sri Lanka’s foreign policy formulation is India’s progress in missile delivery systems (ICBMs and SLBMs) and nuclear-powered submarines. In 1998, India made it clear that its future nuclear deterrence would be based on a nuclear triad consisting of land-based Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs), submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), and strategic bombers (Rehman, 2015). Since then, India has steadily advanced in this direction. The expansion of India’s missile delivery systems, including ICBMs and SLBMs, serves as a reminder that Sri Lanka exists under the strategic shadow of a major global power.
The development of India’s nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) accelerated after 2016. The first in this class, INS Arihant (S2), was commissioned in August 2016, followed by the launch of INS Arighat in November 2021. Designed for strategic deterrence, INS Arighat is equipped to carry the Sagarika K-4 submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs), with a range of 3,500 kilometers, as well as the K-5, a long-range SLBM capable of reaching 5,000 kilometers. The submarine is based at INS Varsha (Deb, 2021).
India has significantly advanced its missile delivery systems, improving both their range and precision. In 2021, it successfully tested the Agni-5, a nuclear-capable intercontinental ballistic missile with a range of 5,000 kilometers. On March 11, 2024, India joined the ranks of global powers possessing Multiple Independently Targetable Re-entry Vehicle (MIRV) technology (The Hindu, January 4, 2022). These advancements elevate the Bay of Bengal as a pivotal arena in the naval competition between India and China, carrying profound political and strategic implications for Sri Lanka, which seeks to maintain equally friendly relations with both countries.
Further, India’s remarkable strides in space research have cemented its status as a global power. A defining moment in this journey was the historic lunar landing on 23 August 2023, when Chandrayaan-3 successfully deployed two robotic marvels: the Vikram lander and its companion rover, Pragyan. They made a graceful touchdown in the Moon’s southern polar region, making India the fourth nation to achieve a successful lunar landing. This milestone has further reinforced India’s position as an emerging great power, enhancing its credentials to assert itself more confidently in South Asian, Indian Ocean, and global power dynamics.
India envisions a stable and secure South Asia as essential to its emergence as a great power in the Indian Ocean and global strategic arenas. However, it does not consider Pakistan to be a part of this stability that it seeks. Accordingly, when India launched the ‘Neighbourhood First Policy’ in 2008 to strengthen regional ties, Pakistan was excluded. India’s ‘Neighbourhood First Policy’ gained renewed momentum after 2015 under Prime Minister Narendra Modi. His approach to South Asia is embedded in a broader narrative emphasising the deep-rooted cultural, economic, and social exchanges between India and other South Asian countries over centuries. India’s promotion of heritage tourism, particularly the ‘Ramayana Trail’ in Sri Lanka, should be viewed through this strategic lens as part of its broader strategic narrative.
Evolving Indian Ocean Geo-political Dynamics
The Indian Ocean constitutes the next geopolitical frame for Sri Lanka’s foreign policy. The Indian Ocean is a huge bay bordered by the Afro-Asian landmass and Australia on three sides and the South Asian peninsula extends into the Indian Ocean basin centrally. Situated at the southern tip of South Asia, Sri Lanka extends strategically into the heart of the Indian Ocean, shaping its geopolitical significance and strategic imperatives for maintaining sovereignty. Historically, Sri Lanka has often been caught in the power struggles of extra-regional actors in the Indian Ocean, repeatedly at the expense of its independence.
Sri Lanka’s leadership at the time of independence was acutely aware of the strategic significance of the Indian Ocean for the nation’s survival. The first Prime Minister D.S. Senanayake, who was also the Minister of Defence and External Affair, stated in Parliament that: “We are in a dangerous position, because we are on one of the strategic highways of the world. The country that captures Ceylon would dominate the Indian Ocean. Nor is it only a question of protecting ourselves against invasion and air attack. If we have no imports for three months, we would starve, and we have therefore to protect our sea and air communications” (Hansard’s Parliamentary Debates, House of Representative. Vol. I, 1 December 1947, c. 444)
As naval competition between superpowers during the Cold War extended to the Indian Ocean, following the British naval withdrawal in the late 1960s, Sri Lanka, under Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike, played a key diplomatic role in keeping the region free from extra-regional naval rivalry by mobilising the countries that were members of the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM). In 1971, Sri Lanka sponsored a proposal at the UN General Assembly to establish the Indian Ocean as a Peace Zone (IOPZ). While the initiative initially gained traction, it stalled at the committee stage and ultimately lost momentum.
The maritime security architecture of the Indian Ocean entered a new phase after the end of the Cold War. The United States became the single superpower in the Indian Ocean with an ocean-wide naval presence bolstered by the fully fledged Diego Garcia base. Correspondingly, the regional strategic linkages that evolved in the context of the Cold War were eventually dismantled, giving way to new strategic relationships. Additionally, three key developments with profound implications for Sri Lanka should be noted: India’s projection of political and naval power into the deeper Indian Ocean, China’s rapid economic and military rise in the region, and the entry of other extra-regional powers into Indian Ocean politics. Although Sri Lanka adopted a broader strategic perspective and a more proactive foreign policy in the 1970s, its approach to geopolitical developments in the Indian Ocean in the post-Cold War era became increasingly shaped by domestic challenges—particularly countering the LTTE threat and addressing post-war exigencies.
India’s Expanding Naval Diplomatic Role in the Indian Ocean
Parallel to its strategic rise, India has intensified its engagement in the broader strategic landscape of the Indian Ocean with renewed vigor. This expansion extends beyond its traditional focus on the South Asian strategic theatre, reflecting a more assertive and multidimensional approach to regional security, economic connectivity, and maritime diplomacy. India’s active participation in multilateral security frameworks, infrastructure investments in critical maritime hubs and strategic alignments with major global powers signify its role in the changing naval security architecture of the Indian Ocean. India’s shifting strategic posture in the Indian Ocean is reflected in the 2015 strategy document Ensuring Secure Seas: Indian Maritime Security Strategy. It broadens the definition of India’s maritime neighbors beyond those sharing maritime boundaries to include all nations within the Indian Ocean region (Ensuring Secure Seas, p. 23).
In 2015, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi launched his signature Indian Ocean diplomacy initiative, Security and Growth for All in the Region (SAGAR) to foster trust and transparency, uphold international maritime norms, respect mutual interests, resolve disputes peacefully, and enhance maritime cooperation. Strategic engagement with the littoral states in the Indian Ocean region, especially Sri Lanka, the Maldives, Seychelles, and Mauritius and Madagascar has emerged as a key component of India’s Indian Ocean naval diplomacy.
The Seychelles archipelago, located approximately 600 miles east of the Diego Garcia base, holds particular significance in India’s maritime strategy. During Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s official visit to Seychelles in March 2015, India and Seychelles signed four agreements. A key strategic outcome of the visit was Seychelles’ agreement to lease Assumption Island, one of its 115 islands, to India—a move that reinforced Seychelles’ alignment with India’s broader naval diplomacy in the Indian Ocean
Similarly, Mauritius holds a central position in India’s naval diplomacy in the Indian Ocean. During Prime Minister Modi’s visit to Mauritius in March 2015, India signed a Memorandum of Understanding with Mauritius to establish a new base on North Agalega Island, a 12-kilometer-long and 1.5-kilometer-wide Island. The base is crucial for air and surface maritime patrols in the southwest Indian Ocean. It will also serve as an intelligence outpost. In September 2016, defense and security cooperation between India and Mauritius deepened alongside the signing of the ‘Comprehensive Economic Cooperation Partnership Agreement’ (CECPA).
India’s expanding strategic interests across the Indian Ocean are reflected in its growing economic, educational, and defense collaborations with Madagascar. In 2007, India established its first overseas listening post in northern Madagascar to monitor shipping activities and intercept marine communications in the Indian Ocean. This initiative provided India with a naval foothold near South Africa and key sea-lanes in the southwestern Indian Ocean. The significance of India’s defense ties with Madagascar is further highlighted by Madagascar’s participation in China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). As a crucial hub along the Maritime Silk Road connecting Africa, Madagascar’s strategic importance is underscored in the broader geopolitical landscape.
Another element of India’s expanding naval diplomacy in the Indian Ocean is its participation in both unilateral and multilateral anti-piracy operations. India’s commitment to regional security was reinforced in 2008 when it established a ‘Strategic Partnership’ with Oman, securing berthing and replenishment facilities for its navy, along with a strategically significant listening post in the Western Indian Ocean. India’s naval presence in the Arabian Gulf gains additional significance amid reports of a new Chinese naval base in Djibouti and recent submarine deployments. Successful anti-piracy missions in the western Indian Ocean underscore India’s growing influence in the region’s evolving naval security architecture.
India increasingly views its vast Diaspora as a soft power tool to bolster its status as an Indian Ocean power. In June 2014, it launched the Mausam project to reinforce its cultural ties across the region, showcasing its heritage, traditions, and contributions to global arts, literature, cinema, yoga, and cuisine. This initiative complements India’s expanding naval diplomacy and strategic presence in the Indian Ocean. Over the years, it has established listening facilities, airfields, and port infrastructure in key locations such as northern Madagascar, Agaléga Island (Mauritius), and Assumption Island (Seychelles). This has led India Today to ask: “Could this mark the emergence of an Indian ‘String of Flowers’ to counter China’s ‘String of Pearls’?” (The be continued)
by Gamini Keerawella
Features
Greener Pastures, Mental Health and Deception in Marriage:

Exploring Sunethra Rajakarunanayake’s Visachakayo
Sunethra Rajakarunanayake’s Sinhala novel Visachakayo (published in 2023) is a thriller in its own sense due to its daring exploration of social themes that modern Sinhala writers fail to touch. To me, the novel is a mosaic that explores pressing issues that middle-class Sri Lankans go through in the 21st Century. The narrative is seen from the perspective of Akshara, a Tamil girl whom the reader first meets in an infamous ‘Visa Queue’ to get her passport to go to England.
Akshara lives with her grandmother ‘Ammamma’ and her aunt ‘Periyamma’ (the younger sister of her mother). Both Ammamma and Periyamma look after her in the absence of her mother, Chinthamani who passed away a long time ago. Akshara’s father lives in Jaffna, with the kids of the second marriage. Later, we are told that Akshara’s father had to marry the second wife due to the loss of his wife’s first husband, who was an LTTE cadre. The second marriage of men seems to be a common theme in the novel due to their commitments to the family as an act of duty and honour.
The most iconic character in the novel is Preethiraj, ‘the man with a big heart’ who functions as a father figure to the other characters in the novel. It is through Preethiraj’s memory that the reader becomes aware of sociological themes in the novel: displacement and immigration, the institution of marriage and mental health issues. Preethiraj (fondly known as Preethi) is the son of Pushpawathi, the second wife of Akshara’s grandfather. Preethi goes to Royal College, but he has to relocate to Jaffna in 1958. Preethi endures social injustice in both public and private spheres. His studious sister, a medical student, labels him as a ‘lunatic’, while his mother condemns him as the ‘odd one’.
The novel intersects between the three themes: immigration and displacement, mental health issues and the institution of marriage. Almost all the characters have to go through displacement, suffer from intricacies of love laws and marriage rules like in The God of Small Things by Arundathi Roy. The writer offers a nuanced analysis of these three themes. For example, take mental health issues. The novel portrays a spectrum of mental health issues, such as schizophrenia, psychosis, Othello Syndrome, depression, autism and even malingering. At times, the representation of such ailments is extremely sarcastic:
“Hm… Canadian citizenship is an easy solution to secure those opportunities. However, unless I am asked to intervene, I will not meddle with their affairs. The son of one of my friends was introduced to a pretty girl. They liked her, not because of her money, but because of her looks and her ability to play the piano. But later, they discovered she has schizophrenia. Now their son follows whatever she says to save the marriage. My friend says she has lost her son” (p.20).
“Those opportunities” refer to material wealth including money and property in Colombo. Here, Rajakarunanayake does not fail to capture the extreme materialism and consumerism. However, in general, her representation of human follies is extremely humane.
The title ‘Visachakayo’ is another interesting coinage that reflects the plight of Sri Lankans who migrate to the ‘global north’ in search of greener pastures. Akshara’s friend, Subhani, who has migrated to England, explains that the term ‘Visachaya’ captures the in-between status of immigrants who are waiting for PR in a foreign country. Subhani mockingly says that they are equal to beggars who beg for visas. Subhani’s coinage and other accounts of Sri Lankan immigrants in England, the novel shows how difficult it is for an immigrant from the ‘global south’ to fight for a living in a country like England where immigrants come to resolve their financial struggles back home.
The novel is an eye-opener in many ways. First, it is an attempt to bridge the gap caused by the Sinhala-Tamil ethnic strife. It is also a cultural mosaic that captures both the joys and sorrows of Sinhala, Tamil and Burgher families in Sri Lanka. The novel also delves into mental health issues, categorically tied to marriage, a daring task even for a seasoned writer. However, Rajakarunanayake’s writing style compels the reader to adopt a more humane and empathetic approach towards individuals grappling with mental health challenges at various stages of their lives. The linguistic technique of using ‘ne’ tag at the end of sentences creates a conversational tone, making the narrative as if it is a conversation between a therapist and a patient. Her writing style also resembles that of Sri Lankan and Indian diasporic writers, a style that is used when writing about the motherland in exile, of which food becomes a critical trope in the narrative that unites the characters who live in exile.
Rajakarunanayake has done a commendable job in the representation of social issues, making this novel a must-read for anyone who is interested in researching social dynamics of contemporary Sri Lanka. It soon needs to be translated into English which will offer a unique experience to Sri Lankan English and international readers. A good book is something that affects the reader. Visachakayo has this quality, and it makes the reader revisit the past, reflect on the present and anticipate the future with hope for humanity just as Preethi does regardless of hardships he endured in the theatre of life.
By C. M. Arsakulasuriya
Features
A strategy for Mahaweli authority to meet future challenges amidst moves to close it down

The potential available in lands under Mahaweli Project, which cover about one third of farming areas of the Dry Zone, could easily help the country become self-sufficient in healthy foods, provided it is managed properly. However, at present, the main focus of the Mahaweli Authority of Sri Lanka (MASL) is mainly on Operation & Maintenance of Canal network feeding the farms. Main purpose of the Mahaweli Restructuring & Rehabilitation Project (MRRP) funded by the World Bank in 2000 was to diversify that objective to cover enhancement of agriculture aspects also. System H Irrigation Systems covering about 20,000 Hectares commanded under Kalawewa Tank located in the Anuradhapura District was used as a pilot area to initiate this effort. However, only the Canal Rehabilitation component of the MRRP was attended because of the government policy at that time. Restructuring component is still awaiting to be completed. Only, a strategy called Water Quota was introduced under the MRRP to initiate the restructuring component. However, the management restructuring required addressing the agriculture component expected under MRRP is still not attended.
Propose Strategy
Total length of the canal network which needs seasonal maintenance is about 1,000 Km in a typical large-scale irrigation project such as Kalawewa. Main role of the Resident Project Managers (RPM) appointed to manage such projects should be to enhance the food production jointly with the Farmer Organizations. Therefore, the abbreviation used for RPM should be redefined as Resident Production Manager. The role of a Production Manager is not limited to maintenance of canal networks as adapted presently. In the current production phase, Irrigation projects should be perceived as a Food Producing “Factory” – where water is the main raw material. Farmers as the owners of the factory, play the role of the labour force of the factory. The Production Manager’s focus should be to maximize food production, deviating from Rice Only Mode, to cater the market needs earning profits for the farmers who are the owners of the “factory”. Canal systems within the project area which need regular maintenance are just “Belts” conveying raw materials (water) in a Typical Factory.
Required Management Shift
In order to implement the above management concept, there is a need for a paradigm shift in managing large scale irrigation projects. In the new approach, the main purpose of managing irrigation systems is to deliver water to the farm gate at the right time in the right quantity. It is a big challenge to operate a canal network about 1000 KM long feeding about 20,000 Hectare in a typical Irrigation System such as Kalawewa.
It is also very pathetic to observe that main clients of irrigation projects (farmers providing labor force) are now dying of various diseases caused by indiscriminate use of agrochemicals. Therefore, there is a need to minimize the damages caused to the ecosystems where these food production factories are located. Therefore, the management objectives should also be focused on producing multiple types of organically grown crops, profitably without polluting the soil and groundwater aquifers causing diseases like Kidney Failures.
Proposed Management Structure
Existing management staff should either be trained or new recruitments having Production Engineering background, should be made. Water should be perceived as the most limited input, which needs to be managed profitably jointly with the farming community. Each Production Manager could be allocated a Fixed Volume of water annually, and their performance could be measured in terms of $s earned for the country per Unit Volume of water, while economically upgrading a healthy lifestyle of the farmers by using climate smart agriculture.
In addition to the government salary, the production management staff should also be compensated in the form of incentives, calculated in proportion to income generated by them from their management areas. It should be a Win-Win situation for both farmers as well as officers responsible for managing the food production factory. Operation of the Main Canal to cater flexible needs of each factory is the main responsibility of the Resident Production Manager. In other countries, the term used to measure their performance is $ earned per gallon of water to the country, without damaging the ecosystem.
Recent Efforts
Mahaweli Authority introduced some of the concepts explained in this note during 2000 to 2006, under MRRP. It was done by operating the Distributary canals feeding each block as elongated Village Tanks. It was known as the Bulk Water Allocation (BWA) strategy. Recently an attempt was made to digitize the same concept, by independently arranging funds from ICTA / World Bank. In that project, called Eazy Water, a SMS communication system was introduced, so that they can order water from the Main Reservoir by sending a SMS, when they need rather; than depend on time tables decided by authorities as normally practiced.
Though the BWA was practiced successfully until 2015, the new generation of managers did not continue it beyond 2015.
Conclusion
The recent Cabinet decision to close down the MASL should prompt the MASL officers to reactivate the BWA approach again. Farmer Organisations at the distributary canal level responsible for managing canal networks covering about 400 Hectares can be registered as farmer cooperatives. For example, there are about 50 farmer cooperatives in a typical irrigation project such as Kalawewa. This transformation should be a gradual process which would take at least two years. I am sure the World Bank would definitely fund this project during the transition period because it is a continuation of the MRRP to address the restructuring component which was not attended by them in 2000 because of government policy at that time. System H could be used as a pilot demonstration area. Guidelines introduced under the MRRP could be used as tools to manage the main canal. World Bank funded Agribusiness Value Chain Support with CSIAP (Climate Smart Irrigated Agriculture Project) under the Ministry of Agriculture which is presently in progress could also provide necessary guidelines to initiate this project.
by Eng. Mahinda Panapitiya
Engineer who worked for Mahaweli Project since its inception
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