Features

On the verge of manhood

Published

2 years ago

2024/07/7

Thilina Walpola

Peradeniya campus

by Jayantha Perera

Seniors’ ragging of ‘freshers’ was rampant on the Peradeniya campus. Marcus Fernando Hall, where I was a fresher, was notorious for ragging. A gang of nasty seniors woke us up at 4 am and forced us to crawl naked around the hall pond, pretending to be reptiles looking for water. Some seniors were lenient and wanted to have a good time with freshers. They asked us to sing, dance, or write letters promising to marry off sisters to their lordships – seniors. Once, I wrote a long letter promising to marry off my only sister to a senior. (I had only three brothers). He read the letter, thanked me for my generosity, and asked whether my sister was pretty. When I hesitated to reply, he told me he was uninterested in my sister.

The registration of undergraduates on the ground floor of the Senate provided an ideal opportunity for seniors to catch freshers for ragging. Seniors ordered freshers in their halls of residence to wear long-sleeved white shirts for the registration and to return to their halls after the registration. Seniors waited for them about 100 yards away from the Senate building, picked up freshers, and took them to their rooms for ragging.

During the ragging season, freshers had a busy life. Attendance at the University Health Clinic for a health checkup was mandatory. Weak hearts and poor eyesight were common defects among freshers. A nurse declared me fully colour-blind. Another fresher found that he had only one testicle.

I attended University Welfare Committee interviews to obtain free financial assistance. In the personal information form, I wrote that my mother had no income. Prof Sarachchandra, Chief Welfare Officer, called me for an interview. I told him about Amma’s difficulties in getting essential food with the stipend she received from my granduncle. He was sympathetic and gave me a cheque for Rs. 100. Then he approved a bursary of Rs. 300 per term. He told me although poverty was quite common in rural communities, villagers had enough resources to survive. However, for the urban poor, living was difficult unless a family member earned wages or made profits from a small business. He said he understood the difficulties I encountered.

Ragging lasted for two weeks and ended with an ‘initiation ceremony’. After taking the hall oath, freshers drank cheap arrack and danced until dawn the following day. They promised to respect seniors, not grab their girlfriends, and introduce them to female batch-mates with good recommendations. From the third week, all became equal, and university identity preceded other alliances such as school, region, religion, and ethnicity.

The most famous teacher among the freshers was Professor Sarachchandra, who taught Sinhala and literary criticism. He was a student of Professor A. J. Ayer, a world-renowned logician and philosopher at London University. About 200 students attended his class at the Arts Theatre. Sarachchandra brought a bundle of cyclostyled pages of books and distributed them among the students. He read a poem or an extract from a book aloud, inviting students to express their views, feelings, and thoughts. Most of the time, the class laughed at those students who expressed their opinions and beliefs, which were irrelevant to the discussed topic. Sarachchandra was patient and listened to each student who wanted to talk. Although we did not take notes during his lectures, we knew we had learned a lot.

Professor K N Jayatilleke taught logic and the scientific method. He was also a renowned Buddhist and Pali scholar who studied at Cambridge under the famous philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein. Jayatilleke taught us deductive and inductive methods and how to use Venn diagrams to develop precise statements and definitions of phenomena. ‘Is there a God?’ was a popular question we discussed in the classroom. He summarised all the points we put forward on the blackboard and wrote his views in two lines at the bottom.

The teacher who taught us economics was a clever man with his own teaching style. He first gave us a summary of the topic and a question or two. He wanted us to discuss the issue and our answers in the next class. Economic history was my favourite subject. A Tokskyist taught us political theory. He criticised the British monarch and the Parliament and ridiculed maxims such as ‘The Queen can do no wrong’ and ‘The Queen reigns but not administers.’ He taught us how to think critically and independently and to approach a complex issue by dividing it into a series of questions.

It was a novel experience for me to associate with female colleagues. The names of some of my colleagues were new to me. At school, my friends were Hillary, Bonaventure, Joseph, Ivan, Winston, Bernard, and Lucian. At the University, my friends were Premathileke, Piyaseeli, Piyadasa, Gamage, Tilakaratne, and Wijeratne. In the first term, I got used to such names. The other significant difference was that most of them were Buddhists, and I was a Catholic. With religion came many different cultural practices.

I went to the Catholic Church on the campus on Sundays. My friends went to the Dalada Maligawa during the weekends and to a nearby Buddhist temple on a full moon day. They worshipped their parents by kneeling and touching their feet. I usually greeted my mother and other female relatives by kissing their cheeks. When they left home, their parents told them, “Theruwan saranai” (may the triple gems bless you). My mother bid me farewell by saying “Jesu pihitai” (may Jesus bless you). Parents usually brought cooked food sufficient to serve many friends of their sons or daughters. I was thrilled when my granduncle sent me a large cake from Kandy for Easter, which I shared with my friends. Most of them did not know Easter. For them, April’s Sinhala and Tamil New Year was the time to celebrate. I once visited a friend in his village during the New Year season. I was amazed to see how well women played the rabanas and men competed in thirikkal (cart) races.

Freshers joined various political parties. I was interested in joining JVP, but JVP leaders were reluctant to accept me as a JVP member. A friend told me that was because I was a Catholic and came from an urban school. I then joined the Communist Party (Peking Wing). I took part in campus student elections and political seminars held in Kandy. A friend from the Science Faculty became an ardent political theorist with great sympathy for the poor. He engaged in various welfare programs in rural areas. Once, he returned to the hall at midnight and found no food. He shouted at the hall steward and demanded food. The steward told him that dinner time was 8 pm, and he was late. My friend barked, “I can be anywhere in the universe. You should keep my dinner regardless of the rules.”

I occasionally visited the SK shop in Kandy (which my granduncle introduced to me). I obtained milk powder, packets of biscuits, writing paper, file covers, and pens on my granduncle’s account. I shared writing papers, Marmite and Horlicks (a hot milk beverage) with my two room-mates. When I got my bursary, I gave my two younger brothers some money. I frequently travelled home to see Amma and my brothers.

I often thought about Thaththa and imagined discussing my new subjects with him in the backyard of our house. I wanted to tell him how well I did in Sinhala, economics, and philosophy. Sometimes, my mind wandered. Once, I lost the teacher’s critical line of argument. When he wrote ‘V’ on the blackboard, I asked him “V stands for what?” He told me ‘Vimala’ (a girl’s name), suggesting I was thinking of a girl during my lessons. The entire class laughed. But immediately he said ‘V’ was for vishwaya (universe).

At the end of the third term, I returned home to revise for the General Arts Qualifying examination (GAQ). My younger brothers were at Padiyapellala. Nihal was at the minor seminary in Colombo. Amma was thrilled to have me at home. On Sundays, we went together to church, where she proudly introduced me to her friends. She boasted about me, saying I might someday become a university lecturer.

This calm and happy interlude in my life was shattered again when Amma fell ill. She got a severe throat and lung infection. We had about Rs. 50 at home, and within three days, it dwindled to Rs. 10, as medicine cost a lot. She was lying on the floor with great pain. I did not want to go to my granduncle to get more money.

Amma

could not eat any food because of her throat infection. I was worried that I too, would get the virus and fall sick. I decided to eat bread with brown sugar for all three meals. I bought a loaf of bread in the morning for 25 cents. I soaked a piece of bread in water and forced Amma to swallow it, and I ate a slice of bread with sugar. For lunch, I ate another piece of bread with sugar and fed Amma with bread and water. Dinner was also bread with sugar. I left for Peradeniya when Amma recovered from her illness.

Soon after the examination, I visited my granduncle’s shop at Padiyapelalla. One morning, at the cashier’s desk, I met the most beautiful girl in my life. She was about 16 years old and came with her sister, who was about 10 years old. The girls were breathtakingly pretty and talked with a different accent. The elder sister told me that the sugar she had bought from the shop was not properly wrapped, and by the time she reached home, there was no sugar in the packet. I asked her, “What can we do for you?” She said, “Please give me another sugar packet; otherwise, my mother will punish me!”

I told a shop assistant to give her a packet of sugar. That decision was correct. But no sooner had they left than the senior workers criticised me for giving them an extra sugar packet. One asked me, “Do you know those two girls are of the lowest caste? They are padu (untouchable) girls. That is why they are so pretty. A young man like you should be cautious because they are known for charming men with their beauty and 64 mayam (strategies). You should not walk alone in villages because they may trap you to marry one of their girls!” Their nagging went on for over an hour. Fortunately, the story did not reach my granduncle. I never saw the two girls again.

The GAQ results were out in mid-August. I did well and was among the four ‘exhibition’ prize winners. I consulted several professors before deciding whether to do a special or general degree. My desire was to do law. Peradeniya University did not offer law as a subject. It was available only at Colombo University. I could have joined the law faculty in Colombo with good advanced-level results. But I did not want to burden Amma as she had little money. Also, studying law requires a good knowledge of English as it is taught in English. I was not confident I could switch from Sinhala to English to read law. At that time, I had the false impression that legal studies were for wealthy and well-connected students.

I applied for a special course in sociology. The Professor of Sociology asked me to translate two passages from English to Sinhala to check my English proficiency. One passage was from an anthropology textbook, and the other from a political science textbook. I translated the first passage without any difficulty. The other was a difficult passage. Two days later, at the interview, he told me that I got 1 out of 10 for the translation while others got 0/10; therefore, he would allow me to study sociology! I did not know whether he was joking or serious. I expected to get at least 5/10 for the translation. His statement hurt me. I should have enrolled in Philosophy or Sinhala ‘special’ degree. In fact, the heads of the philosophy department and the Sinhala department invited me to read their ‘special’ degree courses. I did not join them because I thought a sociology degree would help me find a job after graduation.

The Professor taught two students in the English medium. A lecturer taught the seven Sinhala medium students. He arranged a special English class at the English Department to help us understand Sociology textbooks written in English. Social and Political Thought class was at the Department of Political Science. The Professor stammered a lot, making his lectures challenging to follow. He brilliantly summarised the ideas of thinkers such as Aristotle, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli, and Gandhi. By the end of the year, I understood the main currents of social and political thought and how they had affected various political regimes and civilisations. This knowledge formed the foundation of my future studies.

I conducted field research with visiting researchers at the department. Professor Nur Yalman of Chicago University recruited me as a research assistant to study the changing Buddhist culture in rural Sri Lanka. I visited about 20 Buddhist temples and discussed with about 50 bhikkus topics, such as whether Armstrong landed on the Moon. Only 30% of them believed that Armstrong reached the Moon. A communication specialist engaged me in fieldwork on mass communication and development in rural Sri Lanka. Each of them paid me a daily stipend. I bought my first saree for Amma with the money I earned from the fieldwork.

The Sociology department’s annual field trip to the Udawalawe region was a memorable episode in my second year at the University. Our first stop was at the Ratnapura Resthouse, where the Government Agent of the District, a Sociology graduate, hosted us for lunch. We had lots of beer and a sumptuous lunch. Each ate with a spoon, fork, and napkin tucked into the shirt or blouse. One vegetable served at lunch was murunga (drumstick). We did not know how to scoop the flesh from open lengths of murunga with a spoon. Most of us did not touch the dish, saying that we did not like murunga.

At Embilipitya, we stayed at a government circuit bungalow. We spent one day at the famous Victorian-era mansion of Maduwanwela Dissawa (Chieftain) in Thanamalwila. We learned from villagers that the government held elephant kraals in the 1940s near the small stream there. They explained how the hasthi rajaya (lead elephant) in one of the kraals attempted to break the stockade to protect its herd and how a marksman shot and killed it. We sang the song Panamure ath rajaya, written in memory of the elephant, before leaving the spot. Although our interactions with the local people were limited, we had an opportunity to observe rural living and to listen to folklore.

I sat next to a female undergrad on the bus during the trip. At the journey’s end, my friends thought I was ‘hitched’ to her. They mockingly blessed us for being the fortunate ones on the field trip! When I returned to Peradeniya, I had strange disorientation and loneliness. I thought I was sick. A friend told me that I was in love. He promised to talk to the lady concerned. I told him that I was not ready to start a relationship. About 40 years later, I checked facts and rumours of the bygone era with her. With more effort from each side, our mutual interest could have led to a lasting life relationship.

All News Advertisement

Features

Retirement age for judges: Innovation and policy

Published

21 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

I. The Constitutional Context

Independence of the judiciary is, without question, an essential element of a functioning democracy. In recognition of this, ample provision is made in the highest law of our country, the Constitution, to engender an environment in which the courts are able to fulfil their public responsibility with total acceptance.

As part of this protective apparatus, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal are assured of security of tenure by the provision that “they shall not be removed except by an order of the President made after an address of Parliament supported by a majority of the total number of members of Parliament, (including those not present), has been presented to the President for such removal on the ground of proved misbehaviour or incapacity”[Article 107(2)]. Since this assurance holds good for the entirety of tenure, it follows that the age of retirement should be defined with certainty. This is done by the Constitution itself by the provision that “the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court shall be 65 years and of judges of the Court of Appeal shall be 63 years”[Article 107(5)].

II. A Proposal for Reform

This provision has been in force ever since the commencement of the Constitution. Significant public interest, therefore, has been aroused by the lead story in a newspaper, Anidda of 13 March, that the government is proposing to extend the term of office of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal by a period of two years.

This proposal, if indeed it reflects the thinking of the government, is deeply disturbing from the standpoint of policy, and gives rise to grave consequences. The courts operating at the apex of the judicial structure are called upon to do justice between citizens and also between the state and members of the public. It is an indispensable principle governing the administration of justice that not the slightest shadow of doubt should arise in the public mind regarding the absolute objectivity and impartiality with which the courts approach this task.

What is proposed, if the newspaper report is authentic, is to confer on judges of two particular courts, the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, a substantial benefit or advantage in the form of extension of their years of service. The question is whether the implications of this initiative are healthy for the administration of justice.

III. Governing Considerations of Policy

What is at stake is a principle intuitively identified as a pillar of justice.

Reflecting firm convictions, the legal antecedents reiterate the established position with remarkable emphasis. The classical exposition of the seminal standard is, of course, the pronouncement by Lord Hewart: “It is not merely of some importance, but is of fundamental importance that justice should not only be done, but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done”. (Rex v. Sussex Justices, ex parte McCarthy). The underlying principle is that perception is no less important than reality. The mere appearance of partiality has been held to vitiate proceedings: Dissanayake v. Kaleel. In particular, reasonableness of apprehension in the mind of the parties to litigation is critical: Ranjit Thakur v. Union of India, a reasonable likelihood of bias being necessarily fatal (Manak Lal v. Prem Chaud Singhvi).

The overriding factor is unshaken public confidence in the judiciary: State of West Bengal v. Shivananda Pathak. The decision must be “demonstrably” (Saleem Marsoof J.) fair. The Bar Association of Sri Lanka has rightly declared: “The authority of the judiciary ultimately depends on the trust reposed in it by the people, which is sustained only when justice is administered in a visibly fair manner”.

Credibility is paramount in this regard. “Justice has to be seen to be believed” (J.B. Morton). Legality of the outcome is not decisive; process is of equal consequence. Judicial decisions, then, must withstand public scrutiny, not merely legal technicality: Mark Fernando J. in the Jana Ghosha case. Conceived as continuing vitality of natural justice principles, these are integral to justice itself: Samarawickrema J. in Fernando v. Attorney General. Institutional integrity depends on eliminating even the appearance of partiality (Mandal Vikas Nigam Ltd. v. Girja Shankar Pant), and “open justice is the cornerstone of our judicial system”: (Sahara India Real Estate Corporation Ltd. v. SEBI).

IV. Practical Constraints

Apart from these compelling considerations of policy, there are practical aspects which call for serious consideration. The effect of the proposal is that, among all judges operating at different levels in the judicature of Sri Lanka, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal only, to the exclusion of all other judges, are singled out as the beneficiaries of the proposal. An inevitable result is that High Court and District Judges and Magistrates will find their avenues of promotion seriously impeded by the unexpected lengthening of the periods of service of currently serving judges in the two apex courts. Consequently, they will be required to retire at a point of time appreciably earlier than they had anticipated to relinquish judicial office because the prospect of promotion to higher courts, entailing higher age limits for retirement, is precipitately withdrawn. Some degree of demotivation, arising from denial of legitimate expectation, is therefore to be expected.

A possible response to this obvious problem is a decision to make the two-year extension applicable to all judicial officers, rather than confining it to judges of the two highest courts. This would solve the problem of disillusionment at lower levels of the judiciary, but other issues, clearly serious in their impact, will naturally arise.

Public service structures, to be equitable and effective, must be founded on principles of non-discrimination in respect of service conditions and related matters. Arbitrary or invidious treatment is destructive of this purpose. In determining the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, some attention has been properly paid to balance and consistency. The age of retirement of a Supreme Court judge is on par with that applicable to university professors and academic staff in the higher education system. They all retire at 65 years. Members of the public service, generally, retire at 60. Medical specialists retire at 63, with the possibility of extension in special circumstances to 65. The age of retirement for High Court Judges is 61, and for Magistrates and District Judges 60. It may be noted that the policy change in 2022 aimed at specifically addressing the issue of uniformity and compatibility.

If, then, an attempt is made to carve out an ad hoc principle strictly limited to judicial officers, not admitting of a self-evident rationale, the question would inevitably arise whether this is fair by other categories of the public service and whether the latter would not entertain a justifiable sense of grievance.

This is not merely a moral or ethical issue relating to motivation and fulfillment within the public service, but it could potentially give rise to critical legal issues. It is certainly arguable that the proposed course of action represents an infringement of the postulate of equality of treatment, and non-discrimination, enshrined in Article 12(1) of the Constitution.

There would, as well, be the awkward situation that this issue, almost certain to be raised, would then have to be adjudicated upon by the Supreme Court, itself the direct and exclusive beneficiary of the impugned measure.

V. Piecemeal Amendment or an Overall Approach?

If innovation on these lines is contemplated, would it not be desirable to take up the issue as part of the new Constitution, which the government has pledged to formulate and enact, rather than as a piecemeal amendment at this moment to the existing Constitution? After all, Chapter XV, dealing with the Judiciary, contains provisions interlinked with other salient features of the Constitution, and an integrated approach would seem preferable.

VI. Conclusion

In sum, then, it is submitted that the proposed change is injurious to the institutional integrity of the judiciary and to the prestige and stature of judges, and that it should not be implemented without full consideration of all the issues involved.

By Professor G. L. Peiris
D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);
Former Minister of Justice, Constitutional Affairs and National Integration;
Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;
Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.

Features

Ranked 134th in Happiness: Rethinking Sri Lanka’s development through happiness, youth wellbeing and resilience

Published

22 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

In recent years, Sri Lanka has experienced a succession of overlapping challenges that have tested its resilience. Cyclone Ditwah struck Sri Lanka in November last year, significantly disrupting the normal lives of its citizens. The infrastructure damage is much more serious than the tsunami. According to World Bank reports and preliminary estimates, the losses amounted to approximately US$ 4.1 billion, nearly 4 per cent of the country’s Gross Domestic Product. Before taking a break from that, the emerging crisis in the Middle East has once again raised concerns about potential economic repercussions. In particular, those already affected by disasters such as Cyclone Ditwah risk falling “from the frying pan into the fire,” facing multiple hardships simultaneously. Currently, we see fuel prices rising, four-day workweeks, a higher cost of living, increased pressure on household incomes, and a reduction in the overall standard of living for ordinary citizens. It would certainly affect people’s happiness. As human beings, we naturally aspire to live happy and fulfilling lives. At a time when the world is increasingly talking about happiness and wellbeing, the World Happiness Report provides a useful way of looking at how countries are doing. The World Happiness Report discusses global well-being and offers strategies to improve it. The report is produced annually with contributions from the University of Oxford’s Wellbeing Research Centre, Gallup, the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, and other stakeholders. There are many variables taken into consideration for the index, including the core measure (Cantril Ladder) and six explanatory variables (GDP per Capita ,Social Support,Healthy Life Expectancy,Freedom to Make Life Choices,Generosity,Perceptions of Corruption), with a final comparison.

According to the recently published World Happiness Report 2026, Sri Lanka ranks 134th out of 147 nations. As per the report, this is the first time that Sri Lanka has suffered such a decline. Sri Lanka currently trails behind most of its South Asian neighbours in the happiness index. The World Happiness Report 2026 attributes Sri Lanka’s low ranking (134th) to a combination of persistent economic struggles, social challenges, and modern pressures on younger generations. The 2026 report specifically noted that excessive social media use is a growing factor contributing to declining life satisfaction among young people globally, including in Sri Lanka. This calls for greater vigilance and careful reflection. These concerns should be examined alongside key observations, particularly in the context of education reforms in Sri Lanka, which must look beyond their immediate scope and engage more meaningfully with the country’s future.

In recent years, a series of events has triggered political upheaval in countries such as Nepal, characterised by widespread protests, government collapse, and the emergence of interim administration. Most reports and news outlets described this as “Gen Z protests.” First, we need to understand what Generation Z is and its key attributes. Born between 1997 and 2012, Generation Z represents the first truly “digital native” generation—raised not just with the internet, but immersed in it. Their lives revolve around digital ecosystems: TikTok sets cultural trends, Instagram fuels discovery, YouTube delivers learning, and WhatsApp sustains peer communities. This constant, feed-driven engagement shapes not only how they consume content but how they think, act, and spend. Tech-savvy and socially aware, Gen Z holds brands to a higher standard. For them, authenticity, transparency, and accountability—especially on environmental and ethical issues—aren’t marketing tools; they’re baseline expectations. We can also observe instances of them becoming unnecessarily arrogant in making quick decisions and becoming tools of some harmful anti-social ideological groups. However, we must understand that any generation should have proper education about certain aspects of the normal world, such as respecting others, listening to others, and living well. More interestingly, a global survey by the McKinsey Health Institute, covering 42,083 people across 26 countries, finds that Gen Z reports poorer mental health than older cohorts and is more likely to perceive social media as harmful.

Youth health behaviour in Sri Lanka reveals growing concerns in mental health and wellbeing. Around 18% of youth (here, school-going adolescents aged 13-17) experience depression, 22.4% feel lonely, and 11.9% struggle with sleep due to worry, with issues rising alongside digital exposure. Suicide-related risks are significant, with notable proportions reporting thoughts, plans, and attempts, particularly among females. Bullying remains a significant concern, particularly among males, with cyberbullying emerging as a notable issue. At the same time, substance use is increasing, including tobacco, smokeless tobacco, and e-cigarettes. These trends highlight the urgent need for targeted interventions to support youth mental health, resilience, and healthier behavioural outcomes in Sri Lanka. We need to create a forum in Sri Lanka to keep young people informed about this. Sri Lanka can designate a date (like April 25th) as a National Youth Empowerment Day to strengthen youth mental health and suicide prevention efforts. This should be supported by a comprehensive, multi-sectoral strategy aligned with basic global guidelines. Key priorities include school-based emotional learning, counselling services, and mental health training for teachers and parents. Strengthening data systems, reducing access to harmful means, and promoting responsible media reporting are essential. Empowering families and communities through awareness and digital tools will ensure this day becomes a meaningful national call to action.

As discussed earlier, Sri Lanka must carefully understand and respond to the challenges arising from its ongoing changes. Sri Lanka should establish an immediate task force comprising responsible stakeholders to engage in discussions on ongoing concerns. Recognising that it is not a comprehensive solution, the World Happiness Index can nevertheless act as an important indicator in guiding a paradigm shift in how we approach education and economic development. For a country seeking to reposition itself globally, Sri Lanka must adopt stronger, more effective strategies across multiple sectors. Building a resilient and prosperous future requires sound policymaking and clear strategic direction.

(The writer is a Professor in Management Studies at the Open University of Sri Lanka. You can reach Professor Abeysekera via nabey@ou.ac.lk)

by Prof. Nalin Abeysekera

Features

Hidden diversity in Sri Lanka’s killifish revealed: New study reshapes understanding of island’s freshwater biodiversity

Published

22 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

Aplocheilus parvus

A groundbreaking new study led by an international team of scientists, including Sri Lankan researcher Tharindu Ranasinghe, has uncovered striking genetic distinctions in two closely related killifish species—reshaping long-standing assumptions about freshwater biodiversity shared between Sri Lanka and India.

Published recently in Zootaxa, the research brings together leading ichthyologists such as Hiranya Sudasinghe, Madhava Meegaskumbura, Neelesh Dahanukar and Rajeev Raghavan, alongside other regional experts, highlighting a growing South Asian collaboration in biodiversity science.

For decades, scientists debated whether Aplocheilus blockii and Aplocheilus parvus were in fact the same species. But the new genetic analysis confirms they are “distinct, reciprocally monophyletic sister species,” providing long-awaited clarity to their taxonomic identity.

Speaking to The Island, Ranasinghe said the findings underscore the hidden complexity of Sri Lanka’s freshwater ecosystems.

“What appears superficially similar can be genetically very different,” he noted. “Our study shows that even widespread, common-looking species can hold deep evolutionary histories that we are only now beginning to understand.”

A tale of two fishes

The study reveals that Aplocheilus blockii is restricted to peninsular India, while Aplocheilus parvus occurs both in southern India and across Sri Lanka’s lowland wetlands.

Despite their close relationship, the two species show clear genetic separation, with a measurable “genetic gap” distinguishing them. Subtle physical differences—such as the pattern of iridescent scales—also help scientists tell them apart.

Co-author Sudasinghe, who has led several landmark studies on Sri Lankan freshwater fishes, noted that such integrative approaches combining genetics and morphology are redefining taxonomy in the region.

Echoes of ancient land bridges

The findings also shed light on the ancient biogeographic links between Sri Lanka and India.

Scientists believe that during periods of low sea levels in the past, the two landmasses were connected by the now-submerged Palk Isthmus, allowing freshwater species to move between them.

Later, rising seas severed this connection, isolating populations and driving genetic divergence.

“These fishes likely dispersed between India and Sri Lanka when the land bridge existed,” Ranasinghe said. “Subsequent isolation has resulted in the patterns of genetic structure we see today.”

Meegaskumbura emphasised that such patterns are increasingly being observed across multiple freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka, pointing to a shared evolutionary history shaped by geography and climate.

A deeper genetic divide

One of the study’s most striking findings is that Sri Lankan populations of A. parvus are genetically distinct from those in India, with no shared haplotypes between the two regions.

Dahanukar explained that this level of differentiation, despite relatively recent geological separation, highlights how quickly freshwater species can diverge when isolated.

Meanwhile, Raghavan pointed out that these findings reinforce the importance of conserving habitats across both countries, as each region harbours unique genetic diversity.

Implications for conservation

The study carries important implications for conservation, particularly in a country like Sri Lanka where freshwater ecosystems are under increasing pressure from development, pollution, and climate change.

Ranasinghe stressed that understanding genetic diversity is key to protecting species effectively.

“If we treat all populations as identical, we risk losing unique genetic lineages,” he warned. “Conservation planning must recognise these hidden differences.”

Sri Lanka is already recognised as a global biodiversity hotspot, but studies like this suggest that its biological richness may be even greater than previously thought.

A broader scientific shift

The research also contributes to a growing body of work by scientists such as Sudasinghe and Meegaskumbura, challenging traditional assumptions about species distributions in the region.

Earlier studies often assumed that many freshwater fish species were shared uniformly between India and Sri Lanka. However, modern genetic tools are revealing a far more complex picture—one shaped by ancient geography, climatic shifts, and evolutionary processes.

“We are moving from a simplistic view of biodiversity to a much more nuanced understanding,” Ranasinghe said. “And Sri Lanka is proving to be a fascinating natural laboratory for this kind of research.”

Looking ahead

The researchers emphasise that much remains to be explored, with several freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka still poorly understood at the genetic level.

For Sri Lanka, the message is clear: beneath its rivers, tanks, and wetlands lies a largely untapped reservoir of evolutionary history.

As Ranasinghe puts it:

“Every stream could hold a story of millions of years in the making. We are only just beginning to read them.”

By Ifham Nizam