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THE BATTICALOA FLOODS OF 1957-58

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(Excerpted from Falling Leaves, an autobiographical anthology by LC Arulpragasam)

The months of November and December of 1957 were marked by torrential rains in the Batticaloa District, leading to the biggest flood of the century. While the rain was building up, I received an official call that I was to be appointed to the post of Deputy Commissioner of Agrarian Services with immediate effect. They wanted me to report for duty by December 27 (a week from that date) but with the additional proviso that I should be in Colombo on December 24 and 25 (Christmas Eve and Christmas day) in order to draw up the administrative regulations under the Paddy Lands Act. Since this was too good an offer to miss, I consented, although I knew that it was going to be very difficult for me and my family to comply with these conditions.

We were on the last train going out of Batticaloa, ultimately arriving in Colombo in time for me to work on 24 and 25 December, as agreed. . But late on Christmas night, I heard the Government Agent of Batticaloa calling on the radio for the evacuation of Kalmunai. This to me signaled the fear of a breach of the Inginiyagala (Gal Oya) dam, which meant that at least one million people in the densely populated area of Kalmunai would be swept out to sea.

Unfortunately, the Government Agent was new, having come to the district only one month previously. Hence, there was no one in the district capable of dealing with a crisis like this. It was now midnight on Christmas day. I was officially to take up duties in Colombo on 27 December. Meanwhile, all road and railway links to Batticaloa had been impassable for the last four days.

I was in a quandary: I was still legally Assistant Government Agent of the Batticaloa District. It was supposed to be impossible to reach Batticaloa. Hence the rational thing to do was to remain in Colombo and assume the duties of my new post on the next day, 27 December. Being blessed (or cursed?) by a severe sense of duty, I felt that it was my moral duty to get back to Batticaloa, although I knew that I would not be AGA Batticaloa by the time I reached that district! It also meant disobeying official orders to assume duties in Colombo – for which I could be sacked.

First, I had to decide what route to take, since I knew that the main road to Batticaloa (through Polonnaruwa) had been impassable for one week. So I rang the Automobile Association (AAA) and enquired about the road to Badulla which runs through the hill country. I even suggested a more devious route through Hambantota. But both of them were declared impassable and impossible by the AAA. In fact, the AAA officer guffawed when he learnt where I was trying to go, saying that the road at Manampitiya was 30 feet under water! I decided to take the high road through the hill country, despite the odds.

The problem now was to find a means of transport. By chance, I had seen one of the Divisional Revenue Officers (DROs) of the Batticaloa District in Colombo that day. I knew that he was in Colombo without authorized leave, thus being away from his post at a time of crisis – for which he could be sacked. I now seized the opportunity to force him to take me back to Batticaloa in his car. But when I found my way to the DRO’s house, he was dead drunk and had fallen asleep on the sofa – it being midnight on Christmas day! Having persuaded his scared wife that he would be sacked if he did not get back to his duty station, I bundled him into the back seat of his car (where he immediately fell asleep) and set out driving to Batticaloa through the hill country.

Once into the hills, however, I was stopped by landslides obstructing my path at every turn. With each deviation I encountered more landslides. By around 6 a.m., completely exhausted and completely lost, I stopped at a small waterfall to freshen up. Fortunately the DRO woke up; he recognized the place, having worked in this area before. He was thus able to show me another route. But here we were met by a major causeway, over which the Gal Oya River was flowing at top speed.

Cars were packed on both banks of the river for almost half a mile, having waited for more than three days for the river to subside. In fact, four passengers in a car had plunged to their death at this very spot in the previous year by trying to cross this river in spate at this very place. I needed to know, however, whether the river was rising or falling. Fortunately I had some experience of rivers like this, having navigated some of them in my canoe during my school and University days. So I planted a few sticks on the river bank to mark the water level – and went to sleep, instructing the DRO to wake me up in two hours.

When I awoke, my sticks showed that the river was still rising – which meant that it would only get worse if I waited. Therefore I decided to cross straight away, despite the protests of my colleague and the advice of the crowd. To cut a long story short, we did manage to get across the river amid cheers from the crowds on both banks! The other cars would have had to wait for at least five more days before they could cross.

But it was not long before we were brought to a halt by massive mara trees which had been up-ended across the road by the storm. Their trunks and roots were more than ten feet high, lying horizontally across the road, blocking it entirely. So we had to abandon the car and walk. Thereafter we found a mini-van which took us some distance, till we came across more massive fallen trees obstructing the road.

We abandoned the van to continue farther on foot. We then commandeered a couple of bicycles, since my colleague (who had been the DRO of this division in the Badulla district) had only to identify himself to get anything we wanted!

Thereafter more trees again: so more walking. Then we commandeered a tractor which took us a few miles, followed by more trees across the road and more bicycles, until we finally reached my DRO colleague’s headquarters in Bintenne Pattu, in the western part of the Batticaloa district. After lunch, he got me a bicycle and someone to accompany me. So I cycled for two hours to reach the Unnichchai Colonization Scheme by nightfall, where I was well known.

The Colonization Officer begged of me not to go on, because no one knew whether Batticaloa was still standing! He persuaded me to wait till next morning, when he promised to get a boat and someone to accompany me. By 6 a.m. next morning, a small crowd had gathered, since it was known that the AGA (me) was trying to get to Batticaloa from this point.

But my heart sank when I saw what was before me. Apart from the gushing floodwaters, two dams (the Unnichchai and Rugam irrigation dams) had breached upstream, unleashing a wall of water that had gouged open the main road to Batticaloa, kicking up a wave of water over 12 feet high across the road that I was trying to follow. My heart sank. My instincts and knowledge of water told me that it would be suicidal to cross from here. The Colonization Officer, who was very fond of me, started crying, scaring me even further. He then called for volunteers to accompany me. There was not a single volunteer, although many of them had received land from me as AGA!

Fortunately for me, I chickened out at this time and requested an inflated tube to wear around my waist, for I would have certainly capsized in trying to cross from here. We had to go back a few miles in order to get the tube. At this new place, although the swollen lagoon water was moving rapidly, I realized that it was at least navigable. But there was still no land in sight (normally one could see Batticaloa in the distance from this place), nor any sign that Batticaloa was still there – in which case we would be swept out to sea! However, I decided to cross the lagoon from this point – a decision which certainly saved my life that day.

As soon as I announced this intention, two men immediately volunteered to come with me. They were farmer-fishermen who knew that whereas my first plan was suicidal, my present plan was feasible. They dismantled the outriggers from two canoes, then lashed the two canoes together with three planks across, thus creating a stable twin-hulled craft. We set out with the Colonization Officer intoning prayers for my safety, while the crowd cheered us on.

To get us some idea of direction, I tried to follow the course of the road that led to Batticaloa. We could sometimes make this out by the tips of coconut trees which lined the road on its two sides. Sometimes we would hear unearthly howling like people dying of pain: they proved to be from dogs marooned on roof ridges, with six days of hunger in their bellies. After rowing for some hours, we reached what we thought was high ground adjoining Batticaloa town. So we left the boats and started walking – only to find that we were surrounded by water again. So we had to return to the boats and row farther towards where we thought Batticaloa to be. Again we left the boats and started walking. We could now see the outskirts of the town, but we encountered water once more. At this point we started swimming from tree to tree, until we reached high ground and entered Batticaloa town.

(To be continued next week)



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Features

Cricket and the National Interest

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The appointment of former minister Eran Wickremaratne to chair the Sri Lanka Cricket Transformation Committee is significant for more than the future of cricket. It signals a possible shift in the culture of governance even as it offers Sri Lankan cricket a fighting possibility to get out of the doldrums of failure. There have been glorious patches for the national cricket team since the epochal 1996 World Cup triumph. But these patches of brightness have been few and far between and virtually non-existent over the past decade. At the centre of this disaster has been the failures of governance within Sri Lanka Cricket which are not unlike the larger failures of governance within the country itself. The appointment of a new reform oriented committee therefore carries significance beyond cricket. It reflects the wider challenge facing the country which is to restore trust in public institutions for better management.

The appointment of Eran Wickremaratne brings a professional administrator with a proven track record into the cricket arena. He has several strengths that many of his immediate predecessors lacked. Before the ascent of the present government leadership to positions of power, Eran Wickremaratne was among the handful of government ministers who did not have allegations of corruption attached to their names. His reputation for financial professionalism and integrity has remained intact over many years in public life. With him in the Cricket Transformation Committee are also respected former cricketers Kumar Sangakkara, Roshan Mahanama and Sidath Wettimuny together with professionals from legal and business backgrounds. They have been tasked with introducing structural reforms and improving transparency and accountability within cricket administration.

A second reason for this appointment to be significant is that this is possibly the first occasion on which the NPP government has reached out to someone associated with the opposition to obtain assistance in an area of national importance. The commitment to bipartisanship has been a constant demand from politically non-partisan civic groups and political analysts. They have voiced the opinion that the government needs to be more inclusive in its choice of appointments to decision making authorities. The NPP government’s practice so far has largely been to limit appointments to those within the ruling party or those considered loyalists even at the cost of proven expertise. The government’s decision in this case therefore marks a potentially important departure.

National Interest

There are areas of public life where national interest should transcend party divisions and cricket, beloved of the people, is one of them. Sri Lanka cannot afford to continue treating every institution as an arena for political competition when institutions themselves are in crisis and public confidence has become fragile. It is therefore unfortunate that when the government has moved positively in the direction of drawing on expertise from outside its own ranks there should be a negative response from sections of the opposition. This is indicative of the absence of a culture of bipartisanship even on issues that concern the national interest. The SJB, of which the newly appointed cricket committee chairman was a member objected on the grounds that politicians should not hold positions in sports administration and asked him to resign from the party. There is a need to recognise the distinction between partisan political control and the temporary use of experienced administrators to carry out reform and institutional restructuring. In other countries those in politics often join academia and civil society on a temporary basis and vice versa.

More disturbing has been the insidious campaign carried out against the new cricket committee and its chairman on the grounds of religious affiliation. This is an unacceptable denial of the reality that Sri Lanka is a plural, multi ethnic and multi religious society. The interim committee reflects this diversity to a reasonable extent. The country’s long history of ethnic conflict should have taught all political actors the dangers of mobilising communal prejudice for short term political gain. Sri Lanka paid a very heavy price for decades of mistrust and division. It would be tragic if even cricket administration became another arena for communal suspicion and hostility. The present government represents an important departure from the sectarian rhetoric that was employed by previous governments. They have repeatedly pledged to protect the equal rights of all citizens and not permit discrimination or extremism in any form.

The recent international peace march in Sri Lanka led by the Venerable Bhikkhu Thich Paññākāra from Vietnam with its message of loving kindness and mindfulness to all resonated strongly with the masses of people as seen by the crowds who thronged the roadsides to obtain blessings and show respect. This message stands in contrast to the sectarian resentment manifested by those who seek to use the cricket appointments as a weapon to attack the government at the present time. The challenges before the Sri Lanka Cricket Transformation Committee parallel the larger challenges before the government in developing the national economy and respecting ethnic and religious diversity. Plugging the leaks and restoring systems will take time and effort. It cannot be done overnight and it cannot succeed without public patience and support.

New Recognition

There is also a need for realism. The appointment of Eran Wickremaratne and the new committee does not guarantee success. Reforming deeply flawed institutions is always difficult. Besides, Sri Lanka is a small country with a relatively small population compared to many other cricket playing nations. It is also a country still recovering from the economic breakdown of 2022 which pushed the majority of people into hardship and severely weakened public institutions. The country continues to face unprecedented challenges including the damage caused by Cyclone Ditwah and the wider global economic uncertainties linked to conflict in the Middle East. Under these difficult circumstances Sri Lanka has fewer resources than many larger countries to devote to both cricket and economic development.

When resources are scarce they cannot be wasted through corruption or incompetence. Drawing upon the strengths of all those who are competent for the tasks at hand regardless of party affiliation or ethnic or religious identity is necessary if improvement is to come sooner rather than later. The burden of rebuilding the country cannot rest only on the government. The crisis facing the country is too deep for any single party or government to solve alone. National recovery requires capable individuals from across society and from different sectors such as business and civil society to work together in areas where the national interest transcends party politics. There is also a responsibility on opposition political parties to support initiatives that are politically neutral and genuinely in the national interest. Not every issue needs to become a partisan battle.

Sri Lanka cricket occupies a special place in the national consciousness. At its best it once united the country and gave Sri Lankans a sense of pride and international recognition. Restoring integrity and professionalism to cricket administration can therefore become part of the larger task of national renewal. The appointment of Eran Wickremaratne and the new committee, while it does not guarantee success, is a sign that the political leadership and people of the country may be beginning to mature in their approach to governance. In recognising the need for competence, integrity and bipartisan cooperation and extending it beyond cricket into other areas of national life, Sri Lanka may find the way towards more stable and successful governance..

by Jehan Perera

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From Dhaka to Sri Lanka, three wheels that drive our economies

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Court vacation this year came with an unexpected lesson, not from a courtroom but from the streets of Dhaka — a city that moves, quite literally, on three wheels.

Above the traffic, a modern metro line glides past concrete pillars and crowded rooftops. It is efficient, clean and frequently cited as a symbol of progress in Bangladesh. For a visitor from Sri Lanka, it inevitably brings to mind our own abandoned light rail plans — a project debated, politicised and ultimately set aside.

But Dhaka’s real story is not in the air. It is on the ground.

Beneath the elevated tracks, the streets belong to three-wheelers. Known locally as CNGs, they cluster at junctions, line the edges of markets and pour into narrow roads that larger vehicles avoid. Even with a functioning rail system, these three-wheelers remain the city’s most dependable form of everyday transport.

Within hours of arriving, their importance becomes obvious. The train may take you across the city, but the journey does not end there. The last mile — often the most complicated part — belongs entirely to the three-wheeler. It is the vehicle that gets you home, to a meeting or simply through streets that no bus route properly serves.

There is a rhythm to using them. A destination is mentioned, a price is suggested and a brief negotiation follows. Then the ride begins, edging into traffic that feels permanently compressed. Drivers move with instinct, adjusting routes and squeezing through gaps with a confidence built over years.

It is not polished. But it works.

And that is where the comparison with Sri Lanka becomes less about what we lack and more about what we already have.

Back home, the three-wheeler has long been part of daily life — so familiar that it is often discussed only in terms of its problems. There are frequent complaints about fares, refusals or the absence of meters. More recently, the industry itself has become entangled in politics — from fuel subsidies to regulatory debates, from election-time promises to periodic crackdowns.

In that process, the conversation has shifted. The three-wheeler is often treated as a problem to be managed, rather than a service to be strengthened.

Yet, seen through the experience of Dhaka, Sri Lanka’s system begins to look far more settled — and, in many ways, ahead.

There is a growing structure in place. Meters, while not perfect, are widely recognised. Ride-hailing apps have added transparency and reduced uncertainty for passengers. There are clearer expectations on both sides — driver and commuter alike. Even small details, such as designated parking areas in parts of Colombo or the increasing standard of vehicles, point to an industry slowly moving towards professionalism.

Just as importantly, there is a human element that remains intact.

In Sri Lanka, a three-wheeler ride is rarely just a transaction. Drivers talk. They offer directions, comment on the day’s news, or share local knowledge. The ride becomes part of the social fabric, not just a means of getting from one point to another.

In Dhaka, the scale of the city leaves less room for that. The interaction is quicker, more direct, shaped by urgency. The service is essential, but it is under constant pressure.

What stands out, across both countries, is that the three-wheeler is not a temporary or outdated mode of transport. It is a necessity in dense, fast-growing Asian cities — one that fills gaps no rail or bus system can fully address.

Large infrastructure projects, like light rail, are important. They bring efficiency and long-term capacity. But they cannot replace the flexibility of a three-wheeler. They cannot reach into narrow streets, respond instantly to demand or provide that crucial last-mile connection.

That is why, even in a city that has invested heavily in modern rail, Dhaka still runs on three wheels.

For Sri Lanka, the lesson is not simply about what could have been built, but about what should be better managed and valued.

The three-wheeler industry does not need to be politicised at every turn. It needs steady regulation — clear fare systems, proper licensing, safety standards — alongside encouragement and recognition. It needs to be seen as part of the solution to urban transport, not as a side issue.

Because for thousands of drivers, it is a livelihood. And for millions of passengers, it is the most immediate and reliable form of mobility.

The tuk-tuk may not feature in grand policy speeches or infrastructure blueprints. It does not run on elevated tracks or attract international attention. But on the ground, where daily life unfolds, it continues to do what larger systems often struggle to do — show up, adapt and keep moving.

And after watching Dhaka’s streets — crowded, relentless, yet functioning — that small, three-wheeled vehicle feels less like something to argue over and more like something to get right.

(The writer is an Attorney-at-Law with over a decade of experience specialising in civil law, a former Board Member of the Office of Missing Persons and a former Legal Director of the Central Cultural Fund. He holds an LLM in International Business Law)

 

by Sampath Perera recently in Dhaka, Bangladesh 

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Dubai scene … opening up

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Seven Notes: Operating in Dubai

According to reports coming my way, the entertainment scene, in Dubai, is very much opening up, and buzzing again!

After a quieter few months, May is packed with entertainment and the whole scene, they say, is shifting back into full swing.

The Seven Notes band, made up of Sri Lankans, based in Dubai, are back in the spotlight, after a short hiatus, due to the ongoing Middle East problems.

On 18th April they did Legends Night at Mercure Hotel Dubai Barsha Heights; on Thursday, 9th May, they will be at the Sports Bar of the Mercure Hotel for 70s/80s Retro Night; on 6th June, they will be at Al Jadaf Dubai to provide the music for Sandun Perera live in concert … and with more dates to follow.

These events are expected to showcase the band’s evolving sound, tighter stage coordination, and stronger audience engagement.

With each performance, the band aims to refine its identity and build a loyal following within Dubai’s vibrant nightlife and event scene.

Pasindu Umayanga: The group’s new vocalist

What makes Seven Notes standout is their versatility which has made the band a dynamic and promising act.

With a growing performance calendar, new talent integration, and international ambitions, the band is definitely entering a defining phase of its journey.

Dubai’s music industry, I’m told, thrives on diversity, energy, and audience connection, with live bands playing a crucial role in elevating events—from corporate shows to private concerts. Against this backdrop, Seven Notes is positioning itself not just as another band, but as a performance-driven musical unit focused on consistency and growth.

Adding fresh momentum to the group is Pasindu Umayanga who joins Seven Notes as their new vocalist. This move signals a strategic upgrade—not just filling a role, but strengthening the band’s front-line presence.

Looking beyond local stages, Seven Notes is preparing for an international tour, to Korea, in July.

Bassist Niluk Uswaththa: Spokesperson for Seven Notes

According to bassist Niluk Uswaththa, taking a band abroad means: Your sound must hold up against unfamiliar audiences, your performance must translate beyond language, and your discipline must be at a professional level.

“If executed well, this tour could redefine Seven Notes from a local band into an emerging international act,” added Niluk.

He went on to say that Dubai is not an easy market. It’s saturated with highly experienced, multi-genre bands that can adapt instantly to any crowd.

“To stand out consistently you need to have tight rehearsal discipline, unique sound identity (not just covers), strong stage chemistry, audience retention – not just applause.”

No doubt, Seven Notes is entering a critical growth phase—new member, multiple shows, and an international tour on the horizon. The opportunity is real, but so is the pressure.

However, there is talk that Seven Notes will soon be a recognised name in the regional music scene.

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