Features
Mimure and on to Lakegala: the climb was too much for us

by Dishana Uragoda
(Continued from last week)
The drive to Mimure was going to be very slow due to the poor road conditions, which we had already experienced whilst coming into Kumbukgolla. The distance was six km between the two villages and we anticipated to travel at a slow speed, giving us approximately 30 minutes to get to our destination and start setting up camp. We reminded ourselves to collect the repaired tyre from the police station in Mimure. Azard, Udara and Charaka got out of the vehicle and gave an advance escort removing large rocks on the way. Chandi was driving, and I was feeling very tired to help out the three boys outside. Nish and I were making plans to either camp out or move into a school or temple. On some earlier occasions, Nish had been with me on camping trips to Yala with my family, and hence knew the art better than the others.
After about 30 minutes of driving, we managed to get to the police station. The road conditions from then onwards were much better. The policemen were relaxing in the calm and cool evening. As soon as the officer in charge saw us, he beckoned to a constable to go down to the vehicle with the repaired wheel, which made us liven up. The repair of the tyre was done free of charge. We thanked him for his help, and inquired as to the location of the campsite. We were given directions to proceed further on until we came to a bridge. By the side of the bridge was a clear area where we could set up camp. It was close to 6 pm and we had to set up the tents before it became dark.
We reached the bridge, and located on a side was a really nice unpopulated area. The Heen Ganga was calm at the time, but the length of the bridge gave an indication of the force of the water during heavy rains. The surface area in proximity to the bridge was all rock, making the river below look more like a pond with flowing water. I went to the edge of the river and selected a location which would function as a toilet. This was a good camping site for us.
The evening was getting darker and cooler, with a chilly blowing coming along the river valley. We had to settle down fast while daylight was still on. We were quick to the task of unloading and setting up the tents. Villagers had now gathered to inquire about us. They were very friendly and we informed them that we were staying the night there and we wished to climb the mountain Lakegala the following day. There was some degree of privacy for us, as the only houses to be seen were across the bridge. The road in front, the river on one side and a hillock behind surrounded our campsite.
Nish and I set about erecting the tents as we had dealt with this work on our previous trips. Each tent could accommodate three. Nish and I had decided in advance that we were going to sleep in the American-made tent, whilst whoever wanted to sleep in the cotton tent was most welcome to do so. Tharaka immediately volunteered as the third member for our tent, for he may have sensed that the two of us knew more about tents than the others. There was good reason behind selecting the American-made tent, as the thick material was waterproof, whereas the other was of thin cotton fit for camping in hot weather. For obvious reasons, this knowledge was selfishly kept to ourselves.
Whilst some of us were making the final sleeping arrangements within the tents, others had started preparing the dinner. Azard, Udara and Chandi lighted the lamps and set about getting the kerosene cooker running in order to have noodles for the night. Whilst they were busy with that, Tharaka, Nish and myself went for a river bath. By this time, the full moon was up, and the time was past 7.15 pm. It was a beautifully lit night with clear skies. After the long day we had gone through, jumping into the rather cold water for a bath made us feel refreshed.
Since we had previous experience of the capacity of our cooker, Azard and Udara too joined us in the knowledge that nothing would get overcooked. After the bath, Azard went back to the cooker and made sure that the noodles would come out edible. And we did have our dinner that night. After dinner we went to the river below and washed the cooking utensils, plates, and so on. By now half of us were feeling rather sleepy.
It was around 9 pm and silence reigned in the village. It was a good time to use the night cover to go to the toilet. I had arranged my “bed” in advance by laying sheets on it. A makeshift pillow was prepared by stuffing a case with clothes. It was time to go to bed. I realized it would not be a peaceful and quiet night. By now, the wind blowing down the ravine had increased in velocity and the playing wind made a constant fluttering sound on the tent walls. With Nish in the tent, I was confident that there was no way that the tent would fly away. With my mind at peace, I turned off for the night. I awakened once or twice in the night due to falling temperatures and the strong blowing, but in general I did manage to have a rather good night’s sleep.
Lakegala
Lakegala is the tallest and the most imposing mountain in the Knuckles range. When viewed from one angle, it has a needle-like spire, while from another side it has a broad top like an ordinary mountain. The people of the area believe that out of the three visits paid by Lord Buddha to Sri Lanka, one was to Lakegala and not to Adam’s Peak.
The following morning we were up in our tent by around 6.30 am. The three occupants of the other tent had a very poor night’s rest. The cotton had given them no protection from the wind, and the strong blowing had just swept through the tent, freezing the three poor occupants. Many a time they had thought the tent would get swept away by the wind, so that Azard and Udara, who had slept in two of its comers, had to hold on to the tent by anchoring their hands into two internal pockets of the tent. It sounded so funny to the three of us who slept in the other tent, but we knew this was no joke. They had no proper sleep, but kept up in good spirit.
Soon we were all out of the tents and decided to go for a wash to the river, which was within a 50-metre walk. The sound and sight of the cool flowing water was exhilarating. It was enjoyable to have a wash in such a gush of clear water, a far cry from the stream we had in the previous village. The riverbed was a large reddish-yellow rock that extended from bank to bank. It created a waterfall almost under the bridge and then gradually sloped down to form a pool of flowing water.
After the morning wash we prepared our breakfast, which had to be rather quick and easily prepared, as we had to climb Lakegala in the morning before the sun could come out and heat the rocky surface. It was rationed to three slices of bread with butter and jam. I thought it was an ideal breakfast which did not involve cooking. It obviously did not go well with the others, who requested a biscuit packet or two to be opened as well.
Just as we were finishing breakfast, we had visitors, who were an elderly Buddhist monk, accompanied by a 10-year old monk and a bunch of little village boys. We were rather surprised, yet welcomed the monks. We were not quite certain of the proper etiquette in entertaining the monks and were also concerned about the impact of this visit on our plans to climb Lakegala. We offered the monks breakfast, although there was little left. The elderly monk very kindly turned the offer down, and inquired after our plans for the day. Quite proudly, we informed the venerable monk that we intended climbing Lakegala.
Then calmly he inquired if we would comply with his request, which was to take the little monk with us to Lakegala. We were dumb struck, for it eroded into our plans. To put it mildly, I informed the venerable monk that it would be hazardous and could not take responsibility for the small priest. We also pointed out that the monk was in slippers which were unfit for mountain climbing, unlike our branded shoes. By then the venerable monk had obviously decided for us and asked us not to bother any more, but take the priest with us, while two guides would also be provided.
We next prepared ourselves for the climb. We dismantled the two tents and quickly packed them into the van. Now, along with the monk, there were seven passengers. Due to constraints in space, the elderly monk did not come with us. We first crossed the bridge and went to the heart of Mimure where the temple was situated, a distance of two km from the campsite. Soon we were driving through the village on a gravel road, which was quite populated on either side. The young monk looked far from peaceful, for he was bossy and haughty.
Soon afterwards, we happened to meet a well-grown man in his mid-thirties, when the monk ordered Chandi to stop the van. He put his head out and ordered the man to come with another to the temple, where we were supposed to leave the vehicle. Our respect towards the little priest had grown by now, and we had a chat with him in order to figure out where all the respect he elicited came from. He said he was a nephew of the elderly monk who was the chief priest in one of the temples in the village.
We reached Mimure temple and waited for a good 15 minutes until the two guides joined us. We left the van in the temple precincts, and began our trek around 10.15 am. The haversack containing food and water was conveniently handed over to one of the guides. Approach to the mountain was through a series of beautiful tiered paddy fields. The monk was leading along with one of the guides and Azard. The rest of us followed with the second guide. Soon after the stretch of paddy was over, we reached thick vegetation with huge trees.
The path had a loose gravel surface on which we had to step carefully. After about an hour of climbing, we were out of the woods and into the steep stretch of mountain. The terrain had changed dramatically to a seemingly smooth surface with long, golden grass. In reality the grass was covering an uneven rocky soil. At this point we regrouped ourselves and walked vigilantly as we heard that the first group had avoided a cobra at that point.
We were passing that stretch of 20-30 metres, when all of a sudden something bit me so very painfully between my buttocks. I was dressed in a pair of denims and the thickness of the trousers prevented me from rubbing the painful site adequately. The pain was unbearable. I then rushed behind a bush and stroked myself vigorously to relieve the pain, and then there was another excruciating bite. The culprits happened to be two jungle ticks that were barely visible to the naked eye.
Once again we started our climb and we found the tall grass very useful, for by holding on to it, we managed to steady ourselves in climbing the steep mountain. The strong sun was beating down on us and there was no shade to take advantage of. We climbed up for another hour or so when Nish said he was going to retire under one of the few solitary trees on the way. Nish was a strong man, but those with heavy appetites and low food intake may be affected more. We spoke to him and he opted to stay there until we came back.
In the meantime, the little monk was running way ahead of us with his guide tagging behind. Such a lead was an insult to us. Thanks to the grass, we managed to crawl our way up. After the three-quarter way mark up the mountain was a 50-metre stretch of bare rock at a steep angle of about 50 to 60 degrees. It was a stretch where climbers had used ropes to cross. Above the rocky stretch was once again the grassy terrain, running to the very top.
With the greatest difficulty, we managed to get to the bare rocky segment, and the time was around 1.30 pm. To prevent further embarrassment to us, we sent instructions to the guide to stay on until we came up, since it would be dangerous for the priest to proceed on his own. We were now on all fours and decided to take a break before we started our final ascent on the bare rock. Udara happened to stop at this point. The priest was a good twenty feet above us and we watched this 10-year old with amazement. He swiftly removed his slippers and gave them to the guide to carry, then twisted the long end tit’ his robe around his neck, and started running up the rock.
It also meant that our resting period was over. So we also began to ascend, but on all fours. After about five metres of climbing, one by one the boys declared their inability to continue. We were losing our balance, our grip oil the grass-covered rock was slipping and we had no energy to continue. The climb was becoming far too risky and there was no way we could have climbed to the top. Less than 10 metres onto the bare rocky segment, we decided to call it off. The priest was rather disappointed with us, and we sent a message from below to say that we were going to descend. We rested for 10 minutes or so and began our trek down. Even on our way down, the little monk took the lead. We concluded that his mountaineering abilities were an inborn trait in the people of the area.
It was well past 5.30 pm when we finally came down to the van. By this time, Azard had negotiated with one of the guides for a large jak fruit. His hunger pangs were too strong to control after having only three slices of bread for breakfast and skipping lunch. Soon afterwards we picked up the jak fruit, tipped the guides and bade them good-bye. We were on our way to set up camp again for the night.
By 6 pm the tents were once again coming up, whilst Azard, assisted by Udara, was preparing the jak fruit for dinner.
The rest of us set up the tents and then went to the river for a bath. The moonlight was fantastic once again, and it was rather interesting to watch, from the river below, a young teenage couple court openly on the bridge. It was not the first time we saw these villagers expressing their emotions quite freely and openly. The water was cold is in the previous night, but we splashed around and played enough to heat ourselves. It was another enjoyable bath, after which we went up to the tents to check on the dinner.
Azard and Udara were still around the cooker waiting for the water to boil. The kind villagers, with whom Azard had negotiated, brought dishes of sambol and coconut scrapings. Finally, dinner was ready about 8.30 pm. There was plenty of jak to consume as it was a large fruit, and the hungry bunch was happy that night as they finally managed to fill themselves up.
The following morning was the time for departure. The occupants of the cotton tent were better prepared for the second night, and had not suffered as much as the previous night. After the morning wash at the river, followed by breakfast, we packed our personal belongings first, and then along with the dismantled tents and other belongings, loaded them into the van. We bade goodbye to the villagers and set off to Colombo. We were back on the 15th evening after a wonderful and memorable trip.
(I would never have written this if not for the encouragement and support of my parents, Chris and Padma Uragoda, and my dear siblings, Neluka, Dianthi and Lalith, to whom I am deeply thankful. I ought to say, this was primarily written for the love of my parents, and this is a dedication to them.)
(Concluded)
(Excerpted from Jungle Journeys in Sri Lanka edited by CG Uragoda)
Features
Could Trump be King in a Parliamentary System?

by Rajan Philips
Donald Trump is sucking almost all of the world’s political oxygen. Daily he is stealing the headline thunder in all of the western media. The coverage in other countries may not be as extensive but would still be significant. There is universal curiosity over the systemic chaos that Trump is unleashing in America. There is also the no less universal apprehension about what Trump’s disruptive tariffs will do to the lives of people in reciprocal countries. There are legitimate fears of a madman-made recession not only in America but in all the countries of the world. There is even a warning from a respected source of a potential repeat of the Great Depression of the 1930s.
The question of this article obviously shows its Sri Lankan bias. For there is no country in the world that has been so much preoccupied, for so long, on so constitutional a matter – as the pros and cons of a parliamentary system as opposed to a presidential system. And only in Sri Lanka will such a question – whether Trump could be a king in a parliamentary system – makes sense or find some resonance, any resonance. Insofar as the current NPP government is committed to reverting back to its old parliamentary system from the current presidential system, the government could use all Trump and his presidential antics as one of the justifications for the long awaited constitutional change.
A Historical Irony
It is not that every presidential system is inherently prone to being turned into an upstart monarchy. The historical irony here is that America’s founding fathers decided on a presidential system at a time when there was no constitutional model or prototype available in the world. In fact, the American system became the world’s first constitutional prototype. The founding fathers had all the experiential reason to be wary of the parliamentary system in England because it was associated with the King who was reviled in the colonies. Yet the founding fathers were alert to the risks involved. James Maddison reminded that “If men were angels, no government would be necessary;” and John Adams warned that man’s “Avarice, Ambition, Revenge or Gallantry, would break the strongest Cords of our Constitution as a Whale goes through a Net.”
But for over 200 years, no American president tried to break the country’s political constitutional system for reasons of avarice, anger and revenge, as Trump is doing now. Presidents in other countries with far less traditions of checks and balances have been dealt with both politically and legally for their excesses and trespasses. In Brazil, the system was turned against both the current President Lula and his previous successor Dilma Rousseff. In between them, Jair Bolsonaro imitated Trump in Brazil and even tried to launch a coup after his re-election defeat in 2022, emulating Trump’s insurrection in Washington, in January 2021. But in Brazil, Bolsonaro has been accused of and charged for his crime, while in America its Supreme Court let Trump walk away with immunity and to be back as president for another round.
In Philippines, the current government of President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has turned over its former President Rodrigo Duterte to stand trial at the International Criminal Court in The Hague, on charges of crimes against humanity for his allegedly ordering the killing of as many as 30,000 people as part of his campaign against drug users and dealers. In Sri Lanka, Mahinda Rajapaksa tried to be king, unsuccessfully sought a third term, and set up the system for family succession. But the people have spurned the Rajapaksas and questions as to whether they have been given undue protection from prosecution keep swirling. To wit, the contentious Al Jazeera interview of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe.
In the US, Trump is nonstick and remains untouched. Unlike the prime minister in a parliamentary system, an American president has no presence in the legislature except for the ceremonial State of the Union address. And unlike no other president before him, Trump has created the theatre of daily press conferences, rather chats, before an increasingly hand picked group of journalists. There he turns lies into ex cathedra pronouncements, and signs executive orders like a king issuing edicts. No one questions him instantly, his base hears what he wants them to hear, and by the time professional fact checkers come up with their red lines, Trump and his followers have moved on to another topic. This has become the daily parody of the Trump second term.
No prime minister in any parliament can get away with this nonsense. Every contentious statement will be instantly challenged and refuted if necessary. Parliamentary question periods are the pulse of the political order especially in crisis times. After being in the House of Commons gallery during a visit to England, President Richard Nixon was astonished at the barrage of questions that Prime Minister Harold Wilson had to face and provide answers to. These are minor differences that are hardly noticed in normal times. But the Trump presidency is magnifying even the minor shortcomings of a major political system.
Trump’s cabinet is another instance where the American system is falling apart. The President’s cabinet in America is based on unelected officials approved by the Senate. Until cabinet secretaries or ministers have generally been well equipped academics or professionals and were selected by successive presidents based on their known political leanings. Their ties to corporate America were well known but that was always somewhat qualified by the clear motivation to excel by providing exceptional service to the country.
Trump’s second term cabinet comprises a cabal of self-serving ‘yes’ men with no stellar background in the academia or the professions. They are all there to do Trump’s bidding and to disrupt the orderly functioning of government. Their ineffectiveness is now daily manifested in the drama over Trump’s decisions on tariffs which vary by the time of day and his mood of the moment. The reciprocal countries do not know what to expect, but they have learnt that any agreement that they reach with Trump’s ministers means nothing and that there will be nothing certain until Trump makes his next announcement.
Americans, and others, will have to go through this for the next four years, but in a parliamentary system there could be quicker remedies. A prime minister cannot erratically hold on to power for a full term, and as British parliamentary experience has recurrently shown prime ministers are brought down by cabinet ministers when they have outlived their usefulness to the government and the country. There is no such recourse available in the US. The device of impeachment is simply inoperable in a divided legislature and Trump has demonstrated this twice in one term.
Growing Pushback
Yet after the initial weeks of shock and awe, push-back to Trump is now growing and is slowly becoming significant. Within America the resistance is mostly in the courts, especially the lower federal courts, where the judges are ordering against the stoppage of USAID contract payments, the manifestly illegal firing of government employees, indiscriminate accessing of government data by Musk and his DOGE boys, and the barring by executive order of a law firm that had once represented Hillary Clinton from doing business with the federal government.
Also, in the highly watched case against the deportation order served on the Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian with Green Card status and married to a fellow Palestinian who is a US citizen, the courts have ordered the government to stop the deportation process until the case is resolved. Mr. Khalil was a prominent leader of the student protests at Columbia against the Israeli devastation of Gaza, and the District Judge ordering the temporary ban on deportation is Jesse Furman, an exceptionally qualified American Jew who was appointed by President Obama and was once touted as a potential Supreme Court judge.
The wider push-back is mostly overseas and is predicated on retaliatory tariffs by countries that Trump is imposing tariffs against. In different ways and for different reasons, China and Canada are aggressively pushing back. Mexico is resorting to both flattery and firmness. And the EU is launching a systematic response. Other countries will be forced into the fray if Trump lives up to imposing the much anticipated reciprocal tariffs against all countries that now charge tariffs on imports from the US.
Even without tariffs their uncertainty has been enough to roil markets with stock indices plunging dramatically from the heights reached soon after the November election and the much promised regime of monumental tax cuts. One of the worst stock slumps has been that of Elon Musk’s Tesla. In what is being considered to be the worst such slide in the history of the auto industry, Tesla has lost all of the 90% increase in value it achieved after the presidential election and now gone lower than its pre-election value. Between December 2024 and March 2025, Tesla’s dollar worth fell from $1.54 trillion to $777 billion, a near 50% drop.
Tesla’s misfortune is a schadenfreude moment for those who abhor Musk for his political trespasses. Political aversion is certainly a factor in Tesla’s misfortunes and declining sales, but materially not the main one. Other factors that are more significant are issues with the brand products and stiff EV competition from China. But political distractions catch the eye, and protesters have been turning up at the Tesla dealers in the US. Trump called them the lunatic left and to boost his buddy’s products he even stage managed a sales pitch for Tesla vehicles at the White House driveway. And this is after executively rescinding all of Biden’s initiatives to boost the production and use of Electric Vehicles. What better way to make America great again?
Fighting Oligarchy
Political commentaries in the West are preoccupied with speculations over how, when and where all of Trump’s orders and initiatives will impact people’s lives and their politics in America. One comforting constant is the presidential term limit that will stop Trump’s presidency in January 2029, although Trump will never stop musing about a third term in office. Just like annexing Canada, purchasing Greenland and expropriating Gaza. Mercifully, he has not made any claim to immortality.
The elusive variable is the response of the people. So far, Trump has been able to maintain his hold over his base and he is pulling a tight leash on the Republicans in Congress to toe the line given their narrow margins in both the House and the Senate. The base is indicating support to all his madman initiatives even though Trump has fallen back to his usual negative approval rating (more people disapprove than approve of him) in popular opinion polls. What is not clear is when the public will turn on the president if he actually imposes tariffs on consumer goods, keeps firing government employees, and keeps eroding social welfare.
Trump won the election promising to bring down the prices and cost of living instantly, but everything he is doing now is driving up the costs and people will start registering their dissatisfaction. Unlike in Britain there is no tradition to cheer the monarch and damn the government. Sooner or later, Americans will have nothing to cheer their king for, but everything to damn him, because this ersatz king is also their government.
There are scattered protests in many parts of America, with people showing up at local town hall meetings organized by Republican congressmen. But the protest against the deportation of Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil is likely to gather traction and is already drawing a spectrum of supporters including progressive Jewish and other American citizens. A Jewish organization called Jewish Voice for Peace has organized a sit in protest in support of Khalil in the lobby of Trump Tower in New York. Other high rise buildings may be targeted.
More resoundingly, Senator Bernie Sanders has launched a national tour for “Fighting Oligarchy” and drew a crowd of ten thousand people at his first stop in Michigan. The tour will be a teaser to the Democratic Party leadership that is currently stuck in its tracks like a hare caught in Trump’s headlights. The Party is going by the calendar and waiting for its turn at the next mid-term elections in 2026, and the full election year in 2028 to elect the next president. The old campaign heavyweight James Carville has publicly advised the party to “play dead” until Trump’s systemic chaos turns the people against the Administration. Not everyone is prepared to be so patient.
New York Congress woman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC) is not prepared to “completely roll over and give up on protecting the Constitution.” She wants immediate and consistent opposition to Trump and not to play the waiting game according to the electoral calendar. Trump for one does not wait for anything and breaks every rule to advance his indeterminate agenda. Among the Democrats, AOC has the most extensive social media base, and many Democrats are encouraging her to take the next step and announce her candidacy for New York’s Senate seat. She is a shrewd politician and is well positioned to open another front against Trump, paralleling the national tour that Bernie Sanders has launched.
Features
The Royal-Thomian and its Timeless Charm

By Anura Gunasekera
Big matches come and go; today they are numerous but the Royal-Thomian, the first of its kind in this country, stands apart as an eternal metaphor for tradition, style, charm, excitement and unpredictability. No other sporting encounter in the country, not even an international event, generates the passionate rivalry, the limitless appeal, the widespread social enthusiasm, the Bacchic revelry or the fervent anticipation, as does the battle between these two tribes. This writer does not mean any offence to other schools or to other sporting encounters, but does not see the need to entertain a dissenting view.
The match ceased to be a mere sporting event many decades ago. It has become a microcosm of the passage of life, mirroring the broader human experience. Over the decades it has shaped a generational continuity, with a new group stepping in to continue the tradition, an honoured legacy, as one generation exits. It fosters growth and change, whilst remaining anchored to a revered tradition rooted, albeit, in a colonial past. As much as individuals inherit legacies, values and expectations from their families and communities, the match has fostered a tradition which has remained a constant for one-and-a-half centuries.
The fact that its original spirit is still very much alive, despite the social and national changes which have evolved around it, and that its founding concept has been embraced and emulated by so many other schools, is testament to its relevance to life today, notwithstanding its antiquity, and its genesis in a British-imposed elitism and exclusivity- the latter an accusation frequently levelled against the event and the institutions which generate it. The Sri Lanka of today is unrecognizably different from the colonial Ceylon which birthed the Royal-Thomian, but that encounter remains the same, as it was 146 years ago. The actors, the locations , the institutions and the scope of the event have changed, but the founding spirit is untouched.
This iconic encounter has come to symbolize healthy competition, nourishing rivalry, the value of determination, preparation and team-work and the will-to-win, but all within an inviolable framework of fair play and sportsmanship. It respects history whilst enriching it with each successive encounter, finding ways, through exceptional individual and team performances , to contribute to and enhance an ongoing fable. It fosters a sense of belonging and pride, not just for individuals but for the larger community. It is no longer the exclusive property of the Royal-Thomian tribesmen but has embraced a massive extended family of supporters, aficionados, enthusiasts and well-wishers. It has become an inclusive feast.
The encounter teaches that despite differences and challenges, unity and collaboration from both competing parties are essential for success and growth. As in life, for both teams there is immense pressure to perform and to succeed in what is a high-stakes encounter, to meet the expectations of a society which has grown around it, and formed special identities linked to the competition- family, school, culture and country.
The match, in essence, is a cauldron which shapes triumph and failure, the joy of victory and the anguish of defeat, and the ability to accept both with grace and equanimity, coupled with the determination to make amends at the next encounter. It reflects the eternal truths of the human experience, that life is not always kind, that nature is not always fair, that despite your best efforts the other side will sometimes do better, even if it is not the best equipped or the more fancied. To use a highly over-used cliché, ” the race is not always to the swift”, and cricket proves it time and time again.
The 146th edition of this celebrated encounter reflected, in a multitude of ways, all the contradictions and commonalities described above.
STC, after winning the toss, sent Royal, the pre-match favourites, in to bat, on what appeared to be a typically friendly and placid SSC wicket. After an initial stutter which seemed to justify a risky decision by STC, Royal settled down and went on to post an imposing 319/7. Rehan Pieris crafted a majestic 158, watched reflectively, from the comfort of the “Mustangs” enclosure, by Ronald Reid, a batting genius of a different era, who compiled the identical score for STC in 1956. In doing so he erased the previous Royal-Thomian batting record of 151 by Norman Siebel of STC, established in 1936.
The writer, who, as a ten year old Thomian watched the Reid enterprise, can now claim the privilege of having seen two brilliant performances, separated from each other by a distance of 69 years; the quality in both so similar, despite the first being an elegant left-hander and the recent edition from an aggressive right-hander, that it was like being in a time-warp.
STC, undeterred by the mountain of runs confronting them, produced a decent response of their own. Dineth Goonewardene, with an excellent century- the first by a Thomian since 2016- scored at a brisk rate, made a major contribution. Royal, in their second essay , seemed very much in control with all features pointing to a comfortable draw, when the unpredictability of cricket reared its menacing head; out of the humid and burning-hot ether, Darien Diego, bowling a steady, but unthreatening line and length all afternoon, suddenly produced the feared hat-trick; according to statisticians only the third by a Thomian in the history of the series. Royal, perhaps compelled, and perhaps slightly befuddled, by the unexpected reversal of fortune, made what was a challenging but sporting declaration, throwing down the gauntlet, as it were.
The target of 233 in 42 overs was daunting but given some measured adventurism, not unattainable. STC did exactly that, achieving it with an over to spare. Jaden Amaraweera and Mithila Charles provided early stability at the top with calculated but quick accumulation and Sadev Soysa, in the middle, with a short but fiery knock, reduced a demanding run-rate to manageable proportions.
One outstanding feature of the Thomian victory was the nerveless batting of 15 year old newcomer, Reshon Solomon, a somewhat disputed inclusion in the team, at the expense of coloursman Abeeth Paranawidana. Solomon, despite having had only two previous outings and both in friendly matches, justified his selection for the big stage with a brilliant half-century, scored alongside the first innings centurion, Goonewardane, matching the latter shot-for-shot. The pair batted with such composure that a seemingly elusive target soon became a certainty.
Irrespective of the reasons which prompted it, the early declaration by Royal made a decision possible. One must not forget that losing three batsmen in three deliveries and with two wickets left, they could have, quite justifiably, opted for the safer option of batting till the end and closing down the game. Royal obviously declared with a different result in mind but cricket is capricious, which is also a feature of its allure.
This writer first attended the Royal-Thomian in 1955, and has witnessed all the matches since, barring a brief hiatus in the early 19-seventies. Memories of individual matches, however exciting, are now vague though, the details lost in the fog of excessive merriment, generated in exclusive but boisterous enclosures like the “Colts”, “Stallions” and, latterly, the more sedate “Mustangs”. However, one Thomian victory which still remains indelible in memory is that of 1964, when STC, under the late Premalal Goonesekera, clinched victory in a nail-biting finish, providing a decision after ten consecutive drawn matches ( ’54-’63). That match is also remembered for Sarath Seneviratne’s brilliant 96, breaking Thomian hearts by falling short of a century, a tragedy he re-enacted in the very next Royal-Thomian as well, losing his wicket at 97. In a parody of fame, Sarath is recalled more often by Thomians for the centuries that he failed to score, than are other batsmen who actually did.
The 2025 Thomian victory too will similarly remain in the writer’s memory, for the much shorter lease of life now left to him. But more than the Thomian win, which will eventually become a statistic, the unforgettable feature of the game was the generous spirit, the fierce but fair competition, and the genuine respect which the competitors displayed towards each other. Those are life-lessons, far more important than the end-result, for all to take away, emulate and cherish.
Features
Oscars recognizing talent, overlooking skin colour and racial origins

The 97th Academy Awards ceremony presented by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS), took place on March 2 at the Dolby Theater in Hollywood, LA. A total 23 awards popularly named Oscars were presented to selected actors and films of those released in 2024. Doubt existed about holding the ceremony live or on-line since forest fires were into Hollywood itself and calling for stars to vacate their homes.
An article on Merle Oberon sent me finding facts about a notion I had that the Academy came in for criticism as being racist; only white stars were nominated for awards ignoring Black Americans and actors of other races like Indian. In the early years of Hollywood, actors who had foreign blood flowing in their arteries hid this fact assiduously. If even suspected, they would be suspended from stardom.
Merle Oberon (1911-1979, born Estella Merle O’Brian Thompson) was an acclaimed star in Hollywood from 1934, starting her acting career in silent films and moving on with great effort and painstaking training to look like and speak like an American. She used bleach heavily to lighten her skin. After her origins were known, she was recognized as Hollywood’s first South Asian star. Sri Lanka or rather Ceylon has a claim here, since Merle’s grandmother was born in Ceylon, a Burgher, it is said.
Charlotte Selby, born in Ceylon, moved to Bombay and married an Anglo-Irish tea plantation foreman. Her daughter, Constance Selby, was raped by her stepfather, the foreman, when just 14 and gave birth to a child – Merle – who was brought up by her grandmother Charlotte Selby. Her biological mother was to the world her older sister. When the child was three, the family moved to Calcutta. There Merle won a scholarship to an upper grade private school.
It was known she was of mixed racial birth – an Anglo-Indian – looked down upon by both the British and Indians. Merle was unhappy and took refuge in watching movies. In 1939, an English jockey she was in a relationship with, offered her the opportunity to migrate to England; thus on the pretext of being married to him, Merle moved to London. There she met Hungarian film person Alexander Korda, who promoted her entry into acting. She married him later.
A rising star, she moved to the US in 1934. Samuel Goldwyn spotted and promoted her.
She was nominated for an Oscar the next year for her stellar role in The Dark Angel but lost to Bette Davies. The racial prejudice was worse in Hollywood than in Britain, so Merle had to be extra watchful and diligent in hiding her South Asian origins. Apart from central government rules against immigration and bias against migrants, Hollywood followed the Hays Code which declared inter-racial marriage, sex as crimes. Merle invented she was born in Tasmania and thus untainted white.
Doubts and rumours surfaced about her non-whiteness in spite of her face appearing white with heavy bleaching; her learning to speak Americanese and cameras specially designed to film her which showed her skin to be fairer, she felt under threat until conditions eased. The truth about her parents was revealed publicly with the publication of Charles Higham and Roy Moseley’s 1983 biography Princess Merle. Earlier when her nephew, Samuel Korda,
wanted to write her biography, she threatened to sue him and cut him out of her will. She died of a stroke at age 68 with her secret not publicly punctured.
All white Oscars invaded by colour
Even after the likes of Merle Oberon, racial prejudice was severe. The first coloured actor to win an Oscar was Hattie McDaniel for her portrayal of the loyal nanny in the O’Hara family who tightened daughter Scarlett’s corset strings to near-non-breathing tightness in the 1940 film Gone with the Wind. There was uproar and objection to an African American, then called Black, winning an Academy Award alongside Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable.
McDaniel was a singer and film and theatre actor who suffered intense racial discrimination throughout her career. Atlanta held the premier of the film since its author Margaret Mitchel lived and wrote in Atlanta. Hattie was debarred from attending the all-white premier. At the Oscars ceremony in LA, she had to sit at a segregated table at the side of the room. She gave her reason for suffering these indignities: “I can be a maid for $7 a week. Or I can play a maid for $700 a week.”
She faced discrimination even within the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) whose leader, Walter Francis White, looked down on her and other actors as “Playing the clown before the camera.” However it did force Hollywood to give more opportunities to African Americans in film roles. More help was given, probably, by outstanding stars of the likes of Sydney Poitier.
In 2016, after another all-white set of acting nominations, the #OscarsSoWhite protest movement gained global attention. Yet, the next two years also saw all Oscars being awarded to white actors. Things improved after that: more non-whites winning acting awards but also for other sections like Best Director. Mira Nair was nominated for her direction of the films Namesake and Mississippi Masala and won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language film Salaam Bombay in 1989.
Non-White stars
Plenty in this category and increasing. I will however write about two of them.
Sir Ben Kingsley
was born in Snainton near Scarborough in Yorkshire to a Gujerati father from Jamnagar and an English mother, in 1943, and named Krishna Pandit Bhanji. Within five decades of his acting career he received accolades and awards including Oscars, Bafta, Golden Globe, Grammy and Primetime Emmy. He won one Academy Award and was nominated for three more and the Britannia Award in 2013. He was honoured by the Queen by being appointed Knight Bachelor in 2002 for his service to the British film industry.
Kingsley began his acting career by joining the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1967 and continued in it for the next 15 years. The year he joined he acted in As You Like It and subsequently acted in many Shakespeare plays He was also into television roles.
The role he is best known for is Mahatma Gandhi in Richard Attenborough’s feature film Gandhi (1982). Those who saw it were suitably stunned by the close resemblance between the real Gandhi and Ben Kingsley portraying him. What I remember best are the actor’s eyes, deep and shiny showing great kindness, humility and determination too.
The film won eight Oscars including Best Actor; Best Director, Best Picture, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume Design and Best Screenplay. It was also named by the British Film Institute the 34th greatest British film in the 20th century.
Incidentally the highest number of Oscars won in a year – 11 – are shared by three films: Ben Hur 1959; The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King 2003; Titanic 1997. West Side Story 1961 won ten Oscars. Two films won nine each: The Last Emperor 1987 and The English Patient 1996. Five films that won eight Oscars each are Slumdog Millionniare, My Fair Lady, Gandhi, From Here to Eternity, Cabaret.
Moving to the now, I include among Indian stars who have made their mark worldwide – Frieda Selena Pinto. Born in 1984 to Catholic parents from Mangalore, Karnataka, she was raised in Mumbai and schooled at St Xaviers’. Her mother was the principal of a school in West Mumbai and her father a senior branch manager for the Bank of Vadga in Bandra, West Bengal. Frieda was determined from a young age to be an actor. She turned model for two and a half years and appeared in many TV ads for products like Wrigley’s Chewing Gum. Promoted to Television producer, she visited many countries. Then she got the boost she needed to fulfill her dream: acting. She was selected to play the female lead role in the 2008 production of Slumdog Millionaire opposite Dev Patel who was selected in Britain as he was already in films. Slumdog … was directed by Danny Boyle and filmed in India, much of it in the Juhu slums which is its backdrop. It swept the awards board: Oscar, Bafta et al.
In 2020 Frieda starred as Usha Bala Chilakuri, Stanford law student and special girl friend of JD Vance, the film being about his life until he enters politics. I watched Hillbilly Elegy (2020), much about the Vice President’s mother’s battle with addiction to drugs and was struck by how closely Frieda resembled the young Mrs Vance; notwithstanding film make-up. Frieda is still very much in films, seeking roles in both Hollywood and Bollywood.
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