Features
Leopards at Pilimagala and Kumana

by Walter R. Gooneratne
I have made frequent jungle trips over the past 50 years, and these covered most regions of the country. I have camped out on several occasions in the intermediate zones of both Ruhuna and Wilpattu National Parks, but however interesting and exciting these were, the first trip was the most memorable.
In this period about the 1950’s, which I write about, our jungles were teeming with wildlife, and in that unenlightened era, animals were referred to as game, and some such as the bear were officially called vermin. Shooting them was considered sport. Principles of conservation were just beginning to be understood. Attitudes towards conservation have changed now, and hopefully we should be able to save our dwindling species. At the beginning, when shooting was allowed on permits, I indulged in this so- called sport, but gave it up over the past 25 years or more and am now an ardent conservationist.
Leopards at Pilimagala
In June 1951 1 was transferred to General Hospital, Kandy as a house officer, and it was there that I met two kindred spirits, Dr.Mackie Ratwatte, who was also a house officer, and Dr. S. J. Lawrence, better known as Pervey, or Tango Lawrence, so named for his elegant performance of this dance. Pervey was an anaesthetist. We soon discovered that we had a common interest, namely that of nature, wildlife and adventure, and most of our “off’ week-ends were spent in the jungles in Dambulla, Inamaluwa, and Kibissa near Sigiriya.
When the new Department of Wildlife (as it was then called) was formed, areas around national parks were declared as buffer or intermediate zones. People were allowed, on permit, to enter and shoot a limited number of game in these zones. There being no bungalows to hire, only camping was available, and that too at any preferred spot. For the princely sum of ten rupees a party had the exclusive use of the whole block for ten days. The Yala Intermediate Zone was divided into two parts, north and east. The north was further divided into block one (Galge), block two (Warahana) and block three (Muduntalawa).
We decided that we should be more adventurous and go camping into an intermediate zone. Having made inquiries we decided to go to Galge. Fortunately for us, a friend of ours lent us an old war-model Willys Jeep, and another gave us a tarpaulin and a canvas ground sheet. Pervey’s armoury consisted of a 9.3mm Mauser rifle and a double-barrel shot-gun, and as for me, I had borrowed my father’s 7.9mm Mauser and his Stevens six shot repeater shot-gun. I also borrowed my brother’s 0.22 inch calibre Hornet rifle. Mackie had no weapons, for he did not shoot.
When news got around that we were going hunting, there was a special request from an old attendant of the hospital, Seetin Singho. He was a chronic asthmatic and wanted us to bring him some kara mus or flesh from the back of the leopard’s neck. There was a belief that the call of the leopard sounded like panting as in asthma, but it was unable to lick the back of its neck, and therefore eating kara mus was considered a cure for asthma.
Having loaded the jeep, we left Kandy early one morning in February 1952. In addition to the three of us we also took along a cook. The old jeep, groaning under its heavy load, brought us without further incident to Kataragama at about 11 am.
We now had to meet our tracker, Babun Appuhamy who was going to be our guide for the rest of the journey. He had informed us that he lived on the other side of Menik Ganga. Fortunately the river was at a low ebb, and the jeep, despite its heavy burden, had no problem getting across. Everybody at Kataragama seemed to know Babun, and we had no difficulty in finding his house. Our first meeting was a memorable one. He looked at us in surprise, for as he told us later, when he heard that the party consisted of three doctors, he had expected to see three staid middle-aged men. He changed his look of surprise to one of approval.
Babun was about five feet three inches in height and of a dark complexion. He did not seem to have an ounce of fat on his body, and his wiry muscles rippled under his dusky skin. His age was anybody’s guess. He inspected our weapons with the eye of a connoisseur and inquired closely about the Hornet. He said it would be the ideal weapon for small game such as jungle fowl and hare. When I told him that I could and would use it on larger game, he expressed his serious doubts. The Hornet, though of 0.22inch calibre had a muzzle velocity of 3,500 feet per second and fired a much heavier bullet than the ordinary rim fire weapon.
Camping at Pilimagala
Having had a lunch of rice and curry at a small eating house or buth kade in Kataragama, we started on the last lap of our journey to the campsite. The old Buttala-Kataragama road was a nightmare. The first three or four miles of the road were a drain four to five feet deep and just wide enough for our vehicle. Rainwater had gouged out deep channels on its floor, and when the jeep fell into these ruts it would tilt at crazy angles. We had therefore to dismantle the hood to prevent it from being damaged on the banks of the road.
At the sixth milepost, there was a shrine dedicated to Lord Ganesh. Babun hung a leaf at the shrine with a prayer to the deity for a safe journey. At this point we turned right on the track to Pilimagala, our campsite. After about four and a half miles we came to an open plain or eliya. This was Thalakola Wewa. The bund of this former tank or reservoir, as suggested by the name wewa, had breached many years ago and the resulting plain was lush and green after the recent rains. Here was a herd of about twenty deer. There were many does and a few bucks, which gazed at us in curiosity.
Babun wanted me to shoot the big antlered buck both for food and as bait for the leopard. I decided to use the Hornet, but Babun admonished me saying that I would only injure the animal and thereby lose him. Ignoring Babun’s advice I shot the buck in the shoulder with a hollow-point bullet. At my shot the animal collapsed in its tracks. Total disbelief was written all over the tracker’s face. He examined the rifle closely to make sure that I had not deceived him about the calibre.
We arrived at the campsite at about six pm and got about setting up our camp, which was a very simple affair. A rope was tied between two trees and the tarpaulin slung over it. The four corners of the tarpaulin were tied to some pegs driven into the ground. The ground sheet was spread on the floor and our tent was complete.
Pilimagala was a huge slab of rock, about 300 yards long and 150 yards wide. At the base of the rock, where our camp was located, there was a water-hole or kema extending some distance into the rock. This provided what we considered pure water (except for a few frogs!) for drinking and cooking. Towards the left corner of the rock, was a cave about twenty yards long and ten feet deep. It had a drip-ledge on the overhanging rock above the opening, providing architectural proof that centuries ago it was part of a monastery. It would have been occupied by monks, who would have worshiped the statue and the vihare, the ruins of which still existed at the top.
The rock itself was two tiered. The lower and bigger part had a large water-hole (kema) about 30 feet long and eight feet wide. The upper part was smaller and at its summit was a smaller water-hole and the ruins of the statue and vihare. It is this statue that has given the rock the name Pilimagala. (pilima = statue; gala = rock).
We washed away our grime and fatigue of the journey in a cool bath with water drawn from the kema and lingered awhile to enjoy the cool breezes that blew over the green canopy. The view too was breathtaking, an unbroken sea of varying shades of green around us. Back in camp, we relaxed with a drink, and now that the cook had prepared the dinner, we had a delicious meal of venison curry, pol sambol and rice. We then had unbroken steep till next morning.
Baits for leopard
After breakfast the next day, we set about tying up baits for the leopards. The first was taken eastwards to a swampy plain called Unawa, which was about a mile from camp. The bait was in fact dragged along the track, as Babun said that when a leopard, in its nightly wanderings spots the drag mark, it follows it to the bait. The next bait was tied up at Thalakola Wewa close to the water-hole.
That evening we did a trek to the other side of Pilimagala, where there were large plains, interspersed with high forest. We kept to the edge of the forest so as not to disturb any animals in the glades. Suddenly there was an alarm call of a deer to our right and in front. Babun immediately signaled us to freeze. There were more hysterical calls warning the jungle folk that there was a leopard on the prowl. Pervey and I were ready with our rifles in case the leopard should show up. However, after a short while, the calls ceased, indicating that the leopard had most probably spotted us and moved away.
Clapping for jungle fowl
As we went further along, a jungle fowl called in the thicket to our right. Babun immediately motioned us to squat and whispered to me to be ready with the Hornet.
rolled up the lower part of his sarong into a ball and having placed it on the palm of his left hand, clapped on it with his right palm. One sharp clap was followed after a second by four or five rapid ones. Each series of claps was immediately followed by the crowing of the cock. This went on for some time, and each time the bird got closer and closer, and suddenly it dashed towards us.
However, on seeing us he immediately took flight. I took a quick shot, but missed completely. I learned two lessons, one being how to call up jungle fowl, and the other to use only a shot gun for shooting it. I have used this technique several times since then with spectacular success. I demonstrated this to Dr. Chris Uragoda recently at Malwariya Kema in Yala Block Five. The theory behind this technique is that every time a jungle fowl crows to announce its territory, it flaps its wings. The muffled clap on the sarong simulates the flapping of the wings of an intruder and he rushes in to meet his challenger.
Building hides
Early next morning we set out to inspect the baits. The one at Unawe had been attacked by a leopard as evidenced by the profusion of pug-marks around it. However, only a small amount of flesh had been eaten, but all internal organs had been carried to the edge of the jungle and devoured. Babun deduced that the leopard had found the bait only at day-break, and had therefore taken only the detachable parts and eaten them at the edge of the jungle. It would undoubtedly return to the feast. We now set about building a hide or kotuatte. It was sited about fifteen yards from the bait at the edge of the forest. Four stout saplings were cut from trees some distance away, so as not to disturb the area close to the bait. These saplings were now planted at the selected site to make a five-foot square. Thinner sticks were lashed to this frame to form a lattice. Strips of bark from the tree, maila were used as rope for this purpose. Next, small branches were threaded into the lattice until it was completely covered. In front were two holes or kapollas at eye level, one being for the tracker, and the other for the hunter to look and point his rifle through. These were covered with large leaves from the penera tree. At the back was an opening for the prospective occupants to get in, after which it was closed with a leafy branch. Finally, Babun inspected the contraption to make sure it was completely covered. He claimed that the leopard had such keen eyesight that it could spot even the batting of an eye-lid. Its hearing too was very acute.
As luck would have it, the bait or kuna at Thalakola Wewa had also been eaten. We built a kotuatte here too and returned to camp for a bath at the kema and lunch.
Mistaken identity
At 5 pm. we left for our respective hides. Pervey and Babun went walking to Unawe as it was not far, and Mackie and I took the jeep to Thalakola Wewa. Babun gave us strict instructions on how to conduct ourselves in the hide. We were to stay absolutely motionless, even if we were being drained of our blood by the hordes of mosquitoes that abounded there. Only when we heard the sound of the leopard eating the bait were we to open the kapolla and shoot.
At about 6 pm. we heard the alarm call of langur, a species of monkey, to the front of us but some distance away. A short while later a sambhur called, warning the animals that a leopard was on the prowl. For quite some time the jungle fell silent, except for the raucous calls of some Malabar pied hornbills from a tree behind us. It was now growing dark, and we thought that the leopard had spotted us and gone away. We were about to abandon our hide and get back to camp when a whole herd of spotted deer called from the track on our right and crashed away into the jungle.
The leopard was near at hand, but still no sounds of feeding were heard. Swarms of mosquitoes blanketed us, and it was quite dark by now. The moon had risen but was still covered by the wall of tall trees. Suddenly there was the sound of tearing of flesh and the simultaneous growl of the leopard. The growling and tearing of flesh continued for some minutes. We assumed that the leopard had spotted us and was trying to frighten us or maybe attack us.
By now the moon had just crested the trees and there was some light. We had to act fast before the leopard was on us. I exchanged the rifle for the shot-gun. I signaled Mackie to open his kapolla, and I did likewise. I then saw in the faint light what I thought was a gray head as it tore away the flesh. Taking careful aim I fired. At my shot, the animal crashed away and fell into the water-hole nearby. We, in our ignorance, had assumed that the leopard had been mortally wounded, and we could come the next day and recover the body.
When we got back to camp, the others had not returned yet. Half an hour later they were back. Their leopard had, for some reason not turned up. When I told Babun what had happened to us, he had a hearty laugh. He explained that it was a crocodile from the nearby water hole that was feeding, on the kill, and leopard in the thicket was trying to drive it away. No self-respecting leopard, he said, would jump into a water hole. It was not the leopard I had shot but the crocodile. Sure enough, the next morning Babun probed the water-hole with a pole and fished out the dead crocodile.
Another night’s vigil
In the evening we left early as Babun predicted that the leopard would come to the bait early to thwart the crocodile. He explained that the sound of gunfire, as long as the leopard was not injured, would be attributed by it to the sound of thunder. I can now confirm this, based on what happened to two of my friends on later occasions. The late Mr. Simon Gunewardene at Galge, and again the late Dr Ivor Obeyesekera at Kumana each had fired at and missed a leopard. On both occasions the leopards returned to the kill a short while later.
At 5.40 pm we were alerted by the numerous alarm calls of peafowl, langur and spotted deer from quite a distance away. Obviously the animal had no reason for stealth, as he knew that a ready-made feast was awaiting him. A few minutes later there was the welcome sound of tearing of flesh and crunching of bone. Our leopard had come and was feeding. This was the moment we were waiting for. I signaled Mackie to look through his kapolla and simultaneously looked through mine. There was the leopard quite oblivious to his surroundings, gorging away at the meat.
I took the Mauser and fired at its head at that short range. At my shot the raised head came down and rested on its paws, and a shudder went through its whole body. All was now still. However, going on the old adage ‘never trust a leopard until he’s skinned’, we got out of the hide with the shot gun cocked. I asked Mackie to throw clumps of earth from a termite mound that lay nearby. Nothing happened. The leopard was dead.
The jeep was brought and the carcass hauled onto the bonnet in triumph. When we arrived at the camp, the others had not returned yet. A few minutes later, there was the sound of gun-fire. However, Babun had warned, that should we hear gun shots, we should stay put. In case the leopard should be injured, we would be blundering into an infuriated animal. An hour later they returned. Pervey had also got his prize. The jeep was taken and the leopard brought back.
After a bath in the kema, we drank the rest of the liquor in celebration. Then dinner and bed were most welcome The whole of the next morning was spent skinning the two leopards. At about 10 am, Pervey and I walked to Unawe. There we surprised a huge lone wild boar with prominent Lushes wallowing in the mud. We both got our rifles up, but it was too quick for us and crashed away into the nearby jungle.
In the evening, we walked towards Muduntalawa. About four miles from camp was a huge rock, with a long kema at ground level. The rock overhung the kema. Its surface was adorned with a pale green water weed in the shape of a rose petal. This was Banawelkema. On the way back, there were large numbers of spotted deer, but we did not shoot any, as it was getting late and we were in no mood to carry carcasses. The place was a paradise for leopard, and the track was riddled with their pug marks. A bear had also walked towards Muduntalawa.
It was getting quite dark when returning to camp, and had to walk with much caution as we had forgotten to bring a torch, for we had not expected to get so late. However, we sang at the top of our voices to warn any prowlers that some tough guys were on their way. When we got back to camp, the cook informed us that a leopard had called from the rock. Late at night the leopard called again, and Pervey and Babun went to investigate, but as there was bright moonlight the creature must have spotted them and moved away.
The next morning was cloudy and there was a drizzle. Though we had planned to stay two more days, we were compelled to leave the next day as our food supply was running out. We had misjudged the appetites of Babun and the cook, who could and did eat double of what we did.
(To be continued)
Features
Where the hell have all devils gone?

‘Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again’
–– The Sound of Silence
A drive through the city of Colombo is far less frazzling around midnight, when most asphalt cowboys (read private bus drivers) are in dreamland, and others move like a breeze, having to mind only an occasional wheeled contraption trying to break the sound barrier or policemen in high-vis jackets with flashing traffic wands.
Driving back home after work, some time ago, at an ungodly hour, as usual, yours truly beheld something that opened the floodgates of nostalgia. A devil was staring at him through the rear windshield of a vehicle. An electrifying sight—indeed!
It was actually a sticker of a colourful, apotropaic devil mask—fascinatingly fanged, adorably goggle-eyed, and so endearingly familiar to southerners who grew up among devils, so to speak.
A little over a year ago, a devil beckoned to the writer similarly on the Southern Expressway while he was on his way to Matara with his family for the traditional New Year, which invariably makes him succumb to the irresistible pull of his southern roots.
Well past the witching hour, tossing and turning in bed, in Matara, the writer found something amiss in an otherwise perfect southern night. There was no rub-a-dub of yak bera (low-country drum). During his childhood, pulsating tom-tom beating at thovil or devil dances in his neighbourhood would lull him to sleep.
On that sleepless night, the writer kept thinking to himself, “Where the hell have all the devils gone?”
Coexistence with devils
We, the southerners, evince a proprietary interest in yakas or devils. They may frighten others, but they are no match for the southern exorcists or kattadiyas, who claim to be capable of taming or even banishing them—for a hefty fee, of course. Devil dances are the events where yakas that possess humans are exorcised; they are humiliated in every conceivable manner before being driven out; no yaka with an iota of self-respect would take such mortification lying down if it was capable of striking back. So, a logical conclusion may be that the devils are scared of the southern kattadiyas!
During the writer’s growing-up years, the township of Matara encompassed only a small urban area, beyond which lay rural backwaters, where humans and yakas had opted for an uneasy coexistence, with the latter often overstepping their limits, warranting the intervention of devil dancers.
The writer, as a child, used to think that beyond the area illuminated by household lights in the neighbourhood, all the starving devils in the country converged for the night, keeping a sharp lookout for the brats who dared venture out after dusk. So, he and his elder brother carefully avoided crossing the border demarcated by garden lights lest they should provoke demonic retaliation or even end up as the dinner of the supposedly evil ones.
Cane that drove out fear of devils
The credit for making the writer and his brother overcome their fear of yakas should go to their mother or her unforgiving cane, to be exact. She was not equal to the task of catching them during daytime, try hard as she might, for their mischief or misbehaviour. So, cases against them were heard in absentia in the daylight hours and sentences were duly passed, and all that remained to be done upon their return home at dusk was to mete out punishment, which was severe.
Those were the pre-Child Protection Authority hotline days, and flight was the only option the hapless brothers were left with. So, a scared duo would show their mother a clean pair of heels each, but, darn it, their sprints would end where the dark territory of the devils began!
With the passage of time, the two brothers would summon the courage to cross the line of control between human territory and that of the yakas, and their mother gradually lost interest in the nightly sprints. Otherwise, she would surely have gone on to clinch an Olympic medal for running, a couple of decades before Susanthika! (In ‘My Family and Other Animals’, Gerry Durrell quotes his elder brother as having said that they can be proud of the way they have brought up their mother!)
Conquering fear: Ultimate test
Making an occasional foray into the devils’ territory at night was one thing, but overcoming the fear of demons once and for all was quite another; the ultimate test of masculinity for teens, in that part of the country, sans proper street lighting at the time, was returning home all alone well past midnight after watching a horror movie at a cinema in the nearby town. There were occasions when the writer had to come back home all alone on bicycle or using shank’s pony, passing two cemeteries with large tombs, which, he thought, had been purpose-built for scaring brats who dared wander after nightfall!
‘The Exorcist’ was a scary flick that made any mid-teen worry about the prospect of having to walk the dark roads that lay between the cinema and his home, after the 9.30 pm show––all alone. The snakelike tongue the possessed girl flicked from time to time almost touched the petrified faces of the writer and his friends occupying the front-row seats. Equally blood-curdling were the films like ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’. Dracula also would unnervingly affright them initially to the extent of making them see, on their way back home at night, the blood-sucking creature’s ghastly visage everywhere like a politician’s grinning mug on election posters defacing wayside walls. But later Dracula became a joke, for he/it overdid bloodletting like the violent characters in Tarantino’s edge-of-the-seat thrillers full of gratuitous gory scenes. Subsequently, horror movies became so funny that Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ amused the writer instead of giving him heebie-jeebies. (Hitchcock is heard saying in an audio recording in the BBC archives that he intended ‘Psycho’ as a comedy, but people took it for a horror movie, and he kept quiet!)
Witnessing the banishment of devils
Years prior to the late arrival of television in Sri Lanka were characterised by a chronic lack of entertainment, and the yakas were considerate enough to move in to fill that vacuum, from time to time, with demonic possessions, which necessitated all-night devil dances. They were the events that provided the writer, his brother and their friends an up-close look at numerous devils, especially Mahasona and Ririyaka, who were in fact the devil dancers wearing magnificent wooden masks representing the anthropomorphic personifications of different yakas.
Frantic yet spellbinding dancing lasted for hours on end to the accompaniment of hypnotically rhythmic drum beating, which reached a crescendo towards the wee hours. The exorcists would go into deep trances then, muttering gobbledygook, which apparently only they and the southern devils understood.
The disease-causing devils were identified, summoned and banished much to the relief of the possessed and family members. Thovil could be considered kangaroo trials for devils. Those ceremonies were well choreographed and highly entertaining; they included scenes that provided comic relief in the form of dialogues between yakas and devil dancers, who ridiculed the former much to the amusement of the spectators. Obscenities that some tipplers who were sozzled to the gills hurled at the devils from the audience made thovil even more entertaining like stormy parliamentary sessions.
Seeing and surviving real yakas
The writer’s encounters with the real yakas happened in the late 1980s, when the southern parts of the country ran red with youthful blood due to the JVP’s reign of terror and the savage counterterror operations carried out by the then UNP government.
Two macabre scenes are etched in the writer’s memory. One day, while travelling from Matara to Peradeniya in 1988, he counted more than 30 blindfolded, mutilated corpses of youth along the way—about 10 being burnt on the roadside at the Ahangama junction, six under the Panadura bridge and the others at different locations along the Kandy-Colombo road up to the Galaha Junction. (Crowds near heaps of corpses, which bore unmistakable marks of torture, would make buses slow down or even stop.) On that day, the writer boarded a Colombo-bound bus, which left Matara at dawn after the curfews imposed by the government and the JVP were lifted. The clunker stopped at an eatery in the Ahangama town, where there was a heavy military presence, as the bus crew thought that no other restaurant would be open beyond that point.
A little distance away from the eating house, about 10 corpses were in flames on a tyre-pyre on the roadside, and a revolting stench of burning human flesh pervaded the air, but the passengers were tucking into buns, etc., and sipping tea quietly while beholding the gruesome scene. It was a sign of the public being desensitised to the horrors of mindless violence unleashed by the Red, Green and Khaki yakas.
The real devils were the JVP killers and the counterterror operatives who went on killing sprees and ran dungeons like the Eliyakanda torture camp or the K-Point in Matara.
Hell must have been empty at that time, for all the devils were in this country preying on the youth!
Death-dealing JVP sparrow units armed with an assortment of weapons unleashed hell in the South, which was a hotbed of terror and counterterror. The JVP ordered poll boycotts, ca’cannies, work stoppages and protests at gunpoint, and noncompliance as well as dissent was suppressed in the most brutal manner.
Many civilians who dared exercise their franchise in defiance of the southern terrorists’ calls for poll boycotts died violent deaths at the hands of the JVP death squads, some of whose victims were burnt alive. Not to be outdone, the then UNP regime set in motion its Caravan of Death, which left streets strewn with corpses of young men and women.
‘The Mountain of Death’
The writer remembers a piteous sight he witnessed more than 30 years ago in a far-flung part of the Ratnapura District. He was a member of a media team, tasked with reporting on the digging up of a mass grave on the mist-clad summit of picturesque Suriyakanda.
The skeletal remains of over one dozen schoolboys from Embilipitiya abducted, tortured, murdered and buried by the counterterror units deployed by the UNP government were found buried in a deep pit.
The mass grave was located away from the winding main road, and only four-wheel drives could reach it. Nylon boot laces used to truss up the victims were still intact. The exhumation process proved extremely tedious. Dusk was falling with a thick blanket of an unforgiving fog enveloping the mountaintop reducing visibility to near zero. The then Opposition politicians and others engaged in the exhumation of what remained of children’s corpses had to call it a day and return to Colombo.
The media team headed for Suriyakanda again the following morning itself. At several places near Pelmadulla, where they broke the journey, they found rotting corpses removed from nearby cemeteries and dumped on the roadside by pro-UNP thugs as a warning. Worse, cattle bones had been dumped into the partially dug up mass grave on the Suriyakanda summit. However, digging continued without any untoward incident thereafter and parts of more human skeletons were unearthed; all of them were dispatched to the Embilipitiya Court under magisterial supervision and subsequently sent for forensic examination. Some of those who were involved in the mass murder were brought to justice.
Mass displacement of yakas
Much is spoken these days about the displacement of humans and animals like elephants, but that of the southern devils has gone unnoticed! In Matara, urbanisation has led to a sprawling conurbation that encompasses what used to be the countryside, which was home to many yakas.
Urbanisation causes residential areas to shrink and eventually make way for the expansion of commerce. The spread of banlieues and rurban areas has pushed the devils further into the hinterland in the South. Humans’ insatiable greed for land has not spared even cemeteries where some awe-inspiring, old mausolea once stood majestically, intensifying the thrill we, as schoolboys, used to get from horror flicks. This detestable graveyard grab, as it were, however, exemplifies a saying popular among the southerners; roughly rendered into English it means that the people who are scared of devils do not build houses on cemeteries.
Unbridled urbanisation, the advancement of medicine, increasing accessibility to healthcare, and the proliferation of education, which inculcates scientific reasoning and critical thinking in the public, must have caused the mass displacement of yakas. Alas, whatever the reasons, Matara has become much poorer without its demons (not the gun-toting ones)—at least for those who grew up among them.
by Prabath Sahabandu
Features
India-Pakistan standoff likely to continue indefinitely

In a sense India-Pakistan ties have come full circle. Way back in the late forties of the century past these regional heavyweights emerged as two deeply politically polarized states. On the one hand there was India, officially committed to democracy, inclusivism and secularism. On the other, there was Pakistan which championed Islamism in governance and had more of a theocratic bent. Religion has become a defining feature of its national identity.
While the expectation of the advocates of regional peace over the years was that India and Pakistan would make some headway in narrowing their political differences and defuse tensions, this has not come to pass although there have been brief periods when the states met with relative success in normalizing relations. As is known, the differences in respect of political identity between the countries have contributed in some measure to the countries going to war. The partitioning of India in 1947 was an exemplar of these divisive tendencies.
The current hostilities between India-Pakistan, which escalated to grave heights, point to the fact that the South Asian region is very much back in the late forties when war and bloodshed seemed to offer the only means of resolving the countries’ differences.
In the current circumstances, the Indian political leadership had no choice but to take a tough position on Pakistan following the killing of some tourists in Indian-administered Kashmir recently. India cannot afford to be seen as weak. As a dominant regional power it should be seen as attaching priority to its national interest, part of which is the protection of its people.
Yet, provision needs to be made in their bilateral discourse for the conduct of political negotiations to narrow the countries’ differences. For instance, the characterization of the current halt in military operations by India as ‘a pause’ would not help in promoting a sustainable political dialogue. It would not inspire any confidence in Pakistan that an improvement in ties is possible if it gives talks a try.
Besides, the ‘Modi Doctrine’ on terror itself could have a divisive and polarizing impact. Given that ‘terrorism’ is a conundrum of the first magnitude, the possibilities are slim of the sides going to the conference table with optimism and hope that the causes underlying their hostilities could be ironed out in a hurry.
Going forward, it could be best for the countries to avoid the use of polarizing language. After all, no two parties are likely to see eye-to-eye on ‘terror’. But for the purposes of facilitating a dialogue, the excessive spilling of civilian blood by state and non-state actors could be defined as terrorism. From this viewpoint the killing of civilians in Pahalgam in India-administered Kashmir could be defined as terror.
However, the avoidance of polarizing language could prove difficult for India, given the country’s current political and opinion climate. But it would be possible for the states to launch a dialogue for the defusing of tensions based on a step-by-step approach. The space needs to be opened for a peace process that could accumulate gains gradually.
Considering also that the recent incidents have triggered a great deal of nationalist discourse on both sides of the border, delays to launch an India-Pakistan peace dialogue could prove fatal. This is on account of the fact that a hardening of attitudes on both sides of the border could make peace work insurmountably difficult.
However, if a firm foundation is to be laid for a result-oriented bilateral political dialogue, terrorism needs to be condemned and eschewed by both states. India of course is doing this. Pakistan needs to follow suit. From this viewpoint, one would need to agree with Prime Minister Modi that while there could not be wars in the current world order it is also not the time for terror. Negotiations need to take the place of wars and armed combat but all parties to a conflict need to prove their bona fides by condemning terror out of hand.
While much is expected of the principal politicians on both sides of the border, civilian publics in India and Pakistan too need to ensure that peace rather than war dominates bilateral discourse. One does not see a Mahatma Gandhi emerging on the Indian subcontinent in the foreseeable future but peace groups on both sides of the divide need to take centre stage, join hands and work indefatigably towards peace between India and Pakistan.
For far too long in South Asia, nationalistic politicians have been tamely allowed by civil society to dominate public discourse on matters of the first importance for the region. As a result, the South Asian Eight have been prevented from coming together and building bridges of unity among the states concerned. Differences rather than commonalities come to be emphasized and friction rather than concord characterizes regional relations. A case in point is India and Pakistan.
Unfortunately India’s secular and inclusive identity has suffered some erosion over the past few years as a result of nationalistic discourse coming to dominate central government thinking. This seems to have happened to the extent to which India’s secular and inclusive nature has been allowed to be eclipsed by democratic forces. Progressive, democratic opinion in India needs to step in to rectify this imbalance.
Accordingly, the commentator would not be wrong in stating that in their essentials, India-Pakistan relations have come full circle, so to speak. They continue on a largely confrontational course. Much will depend on whether India could re-emphasize its secular, inclusive and pluralistic identity and help in shaping inter-state ties within the region along these parameters.
For their part, dominant political opinion among India’s neighbours should consider it a foreign policy priority to shed their blinkered view of India being a ‘Big Brother’ of some kind and learn to live with it amicably. This should not be viewed as succumbing to Indian domination of any kind but as an essential policy component that serves the enlightened national interest of these neighbours.
Features
Sri Lanka energy crisis: The Future – Part II

Authors: Emeritus Professor I.M. Dharmadasa; Emeritus Professor Lakshman Dissanayake; Emeritus Professor Oliver Ileperuma; Professor Wijendra Bandara; Ms Nilmini Roelens; Mr Saroj Pathirana; Professor Chulananda Gunasekara; Eng. Parakrama Jayasinghe; Dr Keerthi Devendra; Dr Geewananda Gunawardana; Dr Lakmal Fernando; Dr Vidhura Ralapanawa; Dr. Ajith Weerasinghe
(First part of this article appeared yesterday)
7.2 CEB’s resistance to renewable energy
CEB is a government owned organ formed to serve the nation. Citizens of Sri Lanka appreciate and value the work of its staff who work hard to provide an essential service to her people. However, the CEB’s unwillingness to change and ongoing resistance towards renewables was not only disappointing but has now become entirely unacceptable.
Whilst the stated energy policies place renewable energy high on the agenda and certainly, by 2050 Sri Lanka has made international commitments to supplying 100% of its needs via zero carbon energy, and 70% renewable energy by 2030, there has clearly been little or no effort to invest in renewable energy infrastructure.
Had the CEB done so diligently, in compliance with the dictates of international commitments and common sense, no lone macaque nor weather pattern could have caused nationwide power outages. What guarantees that another monkey would not trample a transformer again? It beggars belief that the entire nation should be kept in the dark across three days because of one primate.
8.0 A numbers game
Back in January 2025, the independent power regulator the Public Utilities Commission of Sri Lanka predicted a 44 billion LKR surplus profits7 for the CEB and recommended that a reduction in price be passed on to the consumer. Following initial resistance by the CEB it would appear a public consultation led to some cuts ensuing.
In 2024 public financc reported a quarterly profit of 34.5 billion LKR with a total net profit of 93 billion LKR for the CEB.
“Despite a drop in revenue, the CEB posted a 67 percent profit increase to 34.5 billion LKR for the quarter ending June 2024, largely due to lower financial expenses and costs.”
Despite these profits, a few weeks ago, CEB announced that the unit price for roof top solar pay back schemes would be scrapped altogether or reduced further in what was clearly a move to disincentivise the use of a freely available renewable energy source. See more about this here.
There are just over 100,000 rooftop solar systems in Sri Lanka which belong mainly to private households, funded through their hard-earned income or using a bank loan.
Given there are around 7 million consumers of electricity in the country we do not understand how a mere 100,000 roof-top solar panels could possibly render the entire national grid to be so fragile.
It is disingenuous for a country to commit to Agenda 2030 and make commitments at UN COP meetings on climate change, only for a state organ like the CEB to discourage and seek to extinguish the renewable energy sector.
In July 2024, CEB reduced the solar tariff from Rs 37 per unit to Rs 27 in violation of a cabinet decision which required such reduction to be approved by the regulator PUCSL (Public Utilities Commission). This behaviour suggests that CEB regards itself as being unaccountable even to the PUCSL. The CEB’s latest proposal is to further reduce the pay back to Rs 19, 17 or 15 per unit, depending on the production level or to scrap it altogether.
Incongruously, we understand the CEB continues to seek to import emergency fossil-based power at much higher rates of over Rs. 70 per unit.
Why?
We find no logical explanation offered to paying so heavily for imports of fossil fuels whilst thwarting the renewable energy sector from expanding.
As a part of its Clean Sri Lanka strategy, perhaps it would be pertinent for the new Sri Lankan government to consider not only complying with the COP international commitments to offer clean renewable energy but also to consider if any potential “conflict of interests” exists within the Sri Lankan energy sector.
Similar pay back schemes to Net plus or Net plus plus are available throughout the world as a means of encouraging citizens to take advantage of the move towards Net zero and to promote the universal use of renewable energy as a means of addressing climate change.
The CEB’s concerted efforts to undermine and reverse renewable energy commitments and its own failure to invest in the grid infrastructure to support a move towards a 100% renewable energy goal by 2050 is apparent.
The further unit price reduction on pay back schemes and the recent press releases leaving the country in the dark over vacation periods were all the more perplexing since the Asian Development Bank approved a further loan for $200 million in November 2024 to improve the country’s energy infrastructure: See “ADB has approved a $200 million loan to upgrade Sri Lanka’s power grid, enhance renewable energy integration, reduce power interruptions, and modernize infrastructure.”
Have these funds now been released, and have they yet been applied for the purposes for which this loan was offered by ADB?
We understand ADB funding given to develop the infrastructure for enhanced absorption of distributed renewable energy has largely been used to develop higher capacity HT transmission lines and not the much cheaper distribution sector development of roof top Solar PV. Failure to install 20 MW grid scale batteries targeted by Jan 2024 increasing up to 100 MW by 2026 would be an example of the many issues in CEB’s infrastructure plans.
The World Bank announced on 7 May 2025 its approval of a $1 billion loan to support growth in Sri Lanka of which $185m is to be applied to the energy sector. The agreement is “Supporting new solar and wind generation equivalent to 1 gigawatt of capacity, aimed at lowering electricity costs for families and businesses. The project is expected to mobilize over $800 million in private investment and includes $40 million in guarantees.”
It is also common knowledge from previous Cope committee discussions, that Senior CEB engineers’ salaries were between ~Rs 400,000 and ~900,000 per month, and their income tax was paid by the CEB and not by the individuals themselves. Could this be a violation of the Income Tax regulations? It removes individual responsibility for taxpayers. We understand the organisation has also approved an automatic salary increase of 25% after every three years.
By comparison the current salary of a senior medical doctor is believed to be about Rs 94,000 pcm, and a graduate teachers’ salary is about Rs 54,000 pcm. There appears to be a considerable disparity for essential services.
Whilst we appreciate the hard work of CEB staff, it does beg the question whether more money should be reinvested in the grid infrastructure to better serve the nation than in such lucrative salaries for state employees in the energy sector.
Indeed, the recent press release seeking to temporarily shut down roof top solar and mini-hydro systems appears only to demonstrate the failure of the CEB to meet its own responsibilities in updating the national grid.
· Recommendations for the future of Sri Lanka’s energy
· At present we have a very fragile grid and the CEB should strenuously endeavour to minimize energy leakages and improve the grid by replacing weak transformers and grid lines. Such continuous improvements will enable us to move gradually towards a “Smart Grid” enabling absorption of large amounts of freely available intermittent renewable energies like wind and solar.
· Currently we have ~2050 MW of renewables installed, comparable to hydroelectricity. When solar power is plentiful during daytime, hydro power can be reduced simply by controlling the water flow without any technical difficulties. This is one way of assuring energy storage while balancing the grid energy. In addition, Battery Energy Storage Systems (BESS) and pumped water storage plants should be introduced.
· The future energy carrier is green hydrogen (GH) produced by electrolyzing water using both wind and solar. GH can also be converted into ammonia and methanol to produce fertilizer and be applied for other industrial uses, and for thermal energy in industry. Sri Lanka already has the Sobhadanavi LNG plant which is already commissioned but cannot be used for lack of supply of LNG. Renewables can bridge the gap.
· Sri Lankan energy should be produced by a technology mix, including large hydro & mini-hydro systems, biomass, solar, wind and some limited imported fossil fuels which must be phased out. While accelerating renewable energy use, reliance and perpetuation of imported fossil fuel must be gradually reduced.
· Local solar energy companies should install high quality solar energy systems and provide good after-sales services. The SLSEA must introduce adequate consumer protection guidelines and mandate to regulate the Solar PV service providers. PV companies should also collaborate with local electronic departments to manufacture accessories like inverters to create new jobs and reduce the total cost of the systems. As a country reliant mainly on agriculture, solar water pumping and drip irrigation systems should be introduced for enhanced food production.
· The optimal use of renewable energy and the move away from fossil fuels should include the development and encouragement of the use of electric vehicles. Solar powered charging stations could be provided whilst EV are introduced in a phased manner.
· It is important to increase public awareness through government funded campaigns and schools’ programmes. The public must become aware of the risks of using imported and expensive fossil fuel and the benefits of renewables. Individual efforts should be encouraged to gradually reduce the use of fossil fuels and increase renewable energy products to achieve a cleaner environment, health benefits and enhanced standard of living conditions. (Concluded)
-
Features4 days ago
SAITM Graduates Overcome Adversity, Excel Despite Challenges
-
News4 days ago
Destined to be pope:Brother says Leo XIV always wanted to be a priest
-
Sports4 days ago
ASBC Asian U22 and Youth Boxing Championships from Monday
-
Opinion4 days ago
Drs. Navaratnam’s consultation fee three rupees NOT Rs. 300
-
Foreign News5 days ago
Mexico sues Google over ‘Gulf of America’ name change
-
Features3 days ago
Championing Geckos, Conservation, and Cross-Disciplinary Research in Sri Lanka
-
Business4 days ago
Dilmah – HSBC future writers festival attracts 150+ entries
-
Business4 days ago
Bloom Hills Holdings wins Gold for Edexcel and Cambridge Education