Connect with us

Features

Travel and exploration in the jungles, coast and Kataragama

Published

on

By Douglas B. Ranasinghe

excerpted from from the authorized biography of Thilo Hoffmann

Soon after their marriage, Thilo and Mae began to make extensive journeys through the country, during weekends and holidays. Once, on one of their first, they found themselves at Arugam Bay late in the afternoon. The old resthouse on the dunes consisted of a small trellised veranda, a dining room beyond that, two bedrooms, kitchen and staff quarters. It was already occupied. However, the resthouse keeper and the occupants graciously allowed the Hoffmanns to put up for the night on the veranda.

Before dusk, they went for a drive towards Komari. On their return, a fine male leopard crossed the road just ahead of the car. It was Mae’s first. Back at the resthouse, lit by cosy kerosene lamps, she recounted the episode to their new acquaintances, who were four Sri Lankan hunters, probably planters as Thilo now surmises. After she had finished, one of them in turn, told of an experience with a leopard. During this lengthy and enthusiastic account Thilo absent-mindedly asked – so his wife used to recall – three times: “Was it a bear?”

After the third time Mae lost her temper and upbraided him severely. Since that time, throughout their lives, whenever his attention began to wane she would say: “Was it a bear?”

In their younger years Mae used to join Thilo in almost all his travels in the island. He recalls:

“She had great endurance and stamina. Despite her rather fragile physique she would outwalk me. Together we faced many hardships without any complaints from her, such as tick bites galore, and leeches in wet areas and remote jungle tanks.

He continues:

“Three times I came down with malaria and once with a nasty hepatitis attack. During a memorable three-day walk along the Kala Oya I became infected with amoebiasis, which months later confined me to hospital for one month whilst undergoing emetine treatment. With my friend Marcel Roth (who was then chef at the GFH) I did the 25 mile trek along the left bank through thick riverine jungle, never stepping on the other side of the river which was the Wilpattu National Park.

“We slept on sandy patches, one night in close proximity to a herd of elephants whom we heard throughout. The two of us scrupulously boils the water we drank except once when thirst overpowered our good sense. That is how we contracted amoebiasis. Marcel, as a result, nearly died of a cyst in the liver some time later. We found my Land Rover in an open field about two miles east of Elavankulam, where my appu Velu had it left three days earlier. This was well before the large Rajanganaya reservoir was built further up-river (or the ill-conceived Inginimitiya tank, both areas then teeming with elephants).”

Mae was not only the accountant in the family (see Chapter I) but also the photographer and movie-maker. In 1951 Thilo’s parents, on their first visit to the couple, brought them an American-made Bell and Howell movie camera as a present. Mae and Thilo’s involvement in photography is described in the next Chapter. In 1967, for his 45th birthday, she gave him a fine pair of binoculars, which she could barely afford. It thereafter accompanied him wherever he went.

Dr and Mrs Hoffmann on that visit together with their son and daughter-in-law visited the ruined cities, Kandy and Horton Plains, which was then accessible by car only via Diyagama East Estate off Agarapatana. Over the years both Thilo’s and Mae’s parents visited Ceylon, later Sri Lanka, several times.

So did their brothers and sisters and, later, nephews. They all got to know the island quite well and appreciate its attractions.Memorable incidents were many across the years. A few of these to do with nature and travel are found across this book; two others ‘off beat’ are recounted here.

One day at Kinellan Estate, Ella the Hoffmanns Jr. and Sr. were sitting down to lunch with the Superintendent and his wife in the open veranda. From the ceiling fell a thin stream of liquid on to the plate before Thilo’s father. The food on the table was ruined. The culprit was one of a family of ‘polecats’ (Indian palm civets) which had their home in the roof!

In another of Thilo’s stories, the local fauna again turned on them:

“We were on our way to Arugam Bay where in the dunes the Boyd-Mosses had a romantic abode made mostly of remnants from a demolished tea factory. At that time Durban Boyd-Moss was the superintendent of Baurs’ Chelsea Estate.

“While driving past Tirukkovil my wife spotted a bull being tormented by two men who threw chunks of road ‘metal’ (stone) at it from a heap on the roadside. The bull’s head was tied down to one of its front legs and it was lying on the ground.

“As I was supposed to do something about this, I got down from the car, shouted at the miscreants, took an open pocket-knife to cut the rope, and slowly approached the lying bull from front, making appropriate calming noises. When I touched its head the bull jumped up and charged into my lower legs. I flew up in the air and somersaulted, still holding the open knife. On coming down I lost for a moment all sense of orientation. Then I ran blindly right into a deep wide drain. Here I lay with the bull butting me continuously.

“My brother, a strong man, eventually managed to pull it off me by its loose tethering rope. It then went for the other two men. They ran across the dry paddy fields, leaping over the bunds like in a steeplechase. It was first shock, then great fun for all, except for the bruises and bleeding abrasions, and my brother’s rope burns on legs and arms which became infected and took a long time to heal.”

Milo and Mae travelled for a variety of interests. There was a total eclipse of the sun in June 1955. He took a half-day’s leave and drove with her to Tabbowa.

They waited on the bund of the tank. Around noon, as ‘night’ fell rapidly the singing of birds and the chirping of cicadas ceased. Mimosa plants folded up their leaves, birds were roosting, total silence reigned and the air became chilly. The sun had disappeared behind the moon which was outlined by faint light around its edges. The wonder did not last long, ‘dawn’ broke quickly, and soon the world around was normal again.

A similar, later incident illustrates the conditions in those decades:

“One memorable night, in March 1978, on the southern shore of the Jaffna Lagoon we witnessed the total eclipse of the full moon lying on our camp beds. As we had been en route for some days, we were unaware of the event, and wondered whether we had had one too many!

“This casual and easy way of passing a night outdoors was then possible as there were fewer people, less violence and more jungles. I never experienced the slightest apprehension of danger, be it from humans, or wild animals. I never carried a weapon on these occasions (even in the days when this was permitted). The attitude of the people, especially of the rural population, towards foreigners was then generally friendly and trusting.

“In our travels through the island, we often used to camp overnight at any suitable spot along the route, selected at random. We did not use tents, but just unfolded camp beds, made a fire for cooking and slept under the open sky — all in the dry zone where the weather is predictable. Rivers and tanks offered fine opportunities for bathing and washing. When we stayed longer in one place we used a heavy tarpaulin from one of Baurs’ open lorries. It was stretched over a rope strung between two trees. At one end it reached the ground and, with a trench dug there, gave excellent spacious shelter even in bad weather.

“Places where I remember camping are Kokkilai, Kuchchaveli, the Parangi Aru, the Modaragam Aru, Mail Villu (then in Wilpattu West Sanctuary), Kala Oya, along the road from Puttalam to Anuradhapura (then all in jungle), on the Kumbukkan Oya, Potana, off Galge, at Mullegama, Maha Oya, Inginiyagala and Koddiyar Bay.”

In the earlier decades of the twentieth century, John Still described the northern dry-zone jungles as “the great plains that are now so empty of men”. This is how Thilo first saw them. When he arrived in Ceylon the island had just over six million inhabitants; today there are more than three times that.

For half a century Thilo and Mae, and after her death then he, would continue travelling and exploring all parts of the island, unique in character and variety, including unspoilt and beautiful areas unknown to most Sri Lankans then and now. The knowledge and experience he gained of the country in this way would form the basis for his work in conservation.

Kataratgama

Thilo records his memories of a famous place, and his thoughts on its transformation:

“I remember vividly an early occasion when my wife and I decided to visit Kataragama for the first time, to watch the annual fire-walking ceremony. This was in 1949, when the event fell on a weekend. I took half-a-day’s leave, as we worked on Saturdays.

“We drove in our open MG to Tissamaharama, where we arrived shortly after noon. From there we walked because during the festival season vehicles were prohibited on the dirt track which led to the holy shrine in the jungle. This kept away idle thrill-seekers, as only genuine pilgrims and serious observers like us undertook the tough 17 km long walk in great heat.

“Only some years later was a jeep track provided via Yodawewa and Katagamuwa, opening the floodgates to sightseers. Today there is a motorable highway. Kataragama has lost its mystic charm and changed beyond recognition. We reached our destination by early evening. Across the Menik Ganga was only a narrow hanging footbridge. There were no pilgrim rests or any other places at which to stay.

“Until late in the night we watched the fascinating scenes and events, moving amongst a multitude of mostly Hindu but also many Buddhist pilgrims. The scenes at the river, the peraheras with one elephant carrying a symbol of God Kataragama (Skanda) to the Valliamma Shrine and back, the devotees with small silver spears stuck through cheeks and tongue and on breast and arms, the kavadi bearers walking on sandals of nails, people rolling on the ground around the main temple, the pujas, the offerings of flowers and fruit, the frenzy and ecstasy in the smoke-filled dimly lit temple itself, with the deafening noise of drums, conch, flute and bells, the smells of burning joss-sticks, incense, camphor and coconut oil and of sweating humanity: these are indelible in my memory, as is the image of a man and a woman who frantically tried to place burning lumps of camphor on their tongues, picking them up with bare fingers from bowls filled with holy ash. All these acts are in fulfillment of vows in penance.

“We watched and moved amongst the crowds till about midnight, when we tried to get some rest at the foot of a large tree. We had brought with us neither food nor drink, and, of course, none were on sale.

The fire-walking was said to start at 3 a.m. on Sunday morning. Hours earlier the fire had been lit, so that when the time came there was a deep bed of red hot embers, left from burning entire logs. Soon people began to assemble around the fire in a wide circle sitting on the ground. We were assigned places right in front. The heat was great and several times we had to move backwards. Preparations continued for quite a while yet, including those of the fire-walking devotees who were kept in a separate abode nearby. My wife and I were the only white people present.

“By about 4 a.m. all was ready, and the first barefoot devotee walked across the bed of embers which was about 35 feet long and six feet wide. Attendants saw to it that all proceeded in an orderly fashion and that the embers were not unduly disturbed. One after another the walkers were sent through the embers, some marching slowly and deliberately, others in a hurry, nearly running, and some quite obviously in a trance. One stumbled and embers were sprayed in all directions. There were about 20 participants and if I remember correctly one or two were women. No burns were reported, and all went well. (Some years later a misguided Christian priest tried it and burned his feet badly.)

“When it was all over daylight began tentatively to break. Exhausted as we were, we began the return walk, another 17 km to Tissa, together with hundreds of pilgrims. I remember a Tamil man who walked ahead of us for some time with his little daughter of perhaps five or six years chanting a religious verse which ended with “Haro hara”, when the girl’s clear silvery voice chimed in. For us this was an enchanting episode.

“A beautiful but hot day was coming up as we trekked along the foot of Vedahitikanda hill. We were dead tired, and my wife almost had to drag me over the last kilometres to our car, which we had left near the Tissa resthouse. For an hour or two we slept in the car, and then I drove all the way back to Colombo. That night we slept like logs, a memorable experience behind us, one of so many similar ones in our long lives ahead.”

“Kataragama was then a truly sylvan shrine with only a few ancient temples and other buildings, a mosque, the Basnayaka’s and the GA’s residences and a row of seasonal shops (’boutiques’), all in a garden of trees. During most of the year the area was left in solitude for wildlife to roam – elephants, sambhur, spotted deer, leopard and bear.

“Today we have a modern ‘Holy City’ in its place with many unnecessary concrete ’embellishments’, lamp-posts, hotels, pilgrim rests, bridges and tarred roads. The avenue between the two main temples is fringed with exotic Tabebuia trees. The whole area now is a great commercial enterprise.

In later years we used to meet Swami Gowripala (Herr Schon-feldt) there and also Kalki Swami (Mike Wilson).”

Lost to modernity

Thilo continues:

“The Ven. Bhikkhu Sumedha, a long-time friend who had grown up in Switzerland, spent his early hermit years as a Buddhist monk at Situlpauwa and at the top of Vedahitikanda. He later obtained higher ordination, and died in Kandy in 2006. On his occasional visits to Colombo, dana was regularly offered at our house.

“Situlpauwa was then a jungle-covered site with only an occasional hermit monk in residence, and wildlife roaming freely through it. Today, as a result of restoration and development, the jungle has given way to concrete, electric lights, noise and commerce.”

During his time in Sri Lanka Thilo has been dismayed to witness such change, in diverse ways, at countless holy and historical places. He adds one example:

“We may perhaps record two different alterations at the famous Koneswaram Temple, on Swami Rock at Trincomalee. The entire temple has been ‘restored’ and renovated, covering under cement and plaster and layers of glossy new paint all traces of its ancient history.

“It is also the site of an act of vandalism. There on a stone pillar was an inscription in high relief recording the death of a young Dutch woman who in the 18th century threw herself over the precipice after watching her lover’s ship sail away. This was chiselled away in the 1980s, a testimony to the prevalent politico-religious chauvinism.

(To be continued)



Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

A plural society requires plural governance

Published

on

The local government elections that took place last week saw a consolidation of the democratic system in the country.  The government followed the rules of elections to a greater extent than its recent predecessors some of whom continue to be active on the political stage.  Particularly noteworthy was the absence of the large-scale abuse of state resources, both media and financial, which had become normalised under successive governments in the past four decades.  Reports by independent election monitoring organisations made mention of this improvement in the country’s democratic culture.

In a world where democracy is under siege even in long-established democracies, Sri Lanka’s improvement in electoral integrity is cause for optimism. It also offers a reminder that democracy is always a work in progress, ever vulnerable to erosion and needs to be constantly fought for. The strengthening of faith in democracy as a result of these elections is encouraging.  The satisfaction expressed by the political parties that contested the elections is a sign that democracy in Sri Lanka is strong.  Most of them saw some improvement in their positions from which they took reassurance about their respective futures.

The local government elections also confirmed that the NPP and its core comprising the JVP are no longer at the fringes of the polity.  The NPP has established itself as a mainstream party with an all-island presence, and remarkably so to a greater extent than any other political party.  This was seen at the general elections, where the NPP won a majority of seats in 21 of the country’s 22 electoral districts. This was a feat no other political party has ever done. This is also a success that is challenging to replicate. At the present local government elections, the NPP was successful in retaining its all-island presence although not to the same degree.

Consolidating Support

Much attention has been given to the relative decline in the ruling party’s vote share from the 61 percent it secured in December’s general election to 43 percent in the local elections. This slippage has been interpreted by some as a sign of waning popularity. However, such a reading overlooks the broader trajectory of political change. Just three years ago, the NPP and its allied parties polled less than five percent nationally. That they now command over 40 percent of the vote represents a profound transformation in voter preferences and political culture. What is even more significant is the stability of this support base, which now surpasses that of any rival. The votes obtained by the NPP at these elections were double those of its nearest rival.

The electoral outcomes in the north and east, which were largely won by parties representing the Tamil and Muslim communities, is a warning signal that ethnic conflict lurks beneath the surface. The success of the minority parties signals the different needs and aspirations of the ethnic and religious minority electorates, and the need for the government to engage more fully with them.  Apart from the problems of poverty, lack of development, inadequate access to economic resources and antipathy to excessive corruption that people of the north and east share in common with those in other parts of the country, they also have special problems that other sections of the population do not have. These would include problems of military takeover of their lands, missing persons and persons incarcerated for long periods either without trial or convictions under the draconian Prevention of Terrorism Act (which permits confessions made to security forces to be made admissible for purposes of conviction) and the long time quest for self-rule in the areas of their predominance

The government’s failure to address these longstanding issues with urgency appears to have caused disaffection in electorate in the north and east. While structural change is necessarily complex and slow, delays can be misinterpreted as disinterest or disregard, especially by minorities already accustomed to marginalisation. The lack of visible progress on issues central to minority communities fosters a sense of exclusion and deepens political divides. Even so, it is worth noting that the NPP’s vote in the north and east was not insignificant. It came despite the NPP not tailoring its message to ethnic grievances. The NPP has presented a vision of national reform grounded in shared values of justice, accountability, development, and equality.

Translating electoral gains into meaningful governance will require more than slogans. The failure to swiftly address matters deemed to be important by the people of those areas appears to have cost the NPP votes amongst the ethnic and religious minorities, but even here it is necessary to keep matters in perspective.  The NPP came first in terms of seats won in two of the seven electoral districts of the north and east.  They came second in five others. The fact that the NPP continued to win significant support indicates that its approach of equity in development and equal rights for all has resonance. This was despite the Tamil and Muslim parties making appeals to the electorate on nationalist or ethnic grounds.

Slow Change

Whether in the north and east or outside it, the government is perceived to be slow in delivering on its promises.  In the context of the promise of system change, it can be appreciated that such a change will be resisted tooth and nail by those with vested interests in the continuation of the old system.  System change will invariably be resisted at multiple levels.  The problem is that the slow pace of change may be seen by ethnic and religious minorities as being due to the disregard of their interests.  However, the system change is coming slow not only in the north and east, but also in the entire country.

At the general election in December last year, the NPP won an unprecedented number of parliamentary seats in both the country as well as in the north and east.  But it has still to make use of its 2/3 majority to make the changes that its super majority permits it to do.  With control of 267 out of 339 local councils, but without outright majorities in most, it must now engage in coalition-building and consensus-seeking if it wishes to govern at the local level. This will be a challenge for a party whose identity has long been built on principled opposition to elite patronage, corruption and abuse of power rather than to governance. General Secretary of the JVP, Tilvin Silva, has signaled a reluctance to form alliances with discredited parties but has expressed openness to working with independent candidates who share the party’s values. This position can and should be extended, especially in the north and east, to include political formations that represent minority communities and have remained outside the tainted mainstream.

In a plural and multi-ethnic society like Sri Lanka, democratic legitimacy and effective governance requires coalition-building. By engaging with locally legitimate minority parties, especially in the north and east, the NPP can engage in principled governance without compromising its core values. This needs to be extended to the local government authorities in the rest of the country as well. As the 19th century English political philosopher John Stuart Mill observed, “The worth of a state in the long run is the worth of the individuals composing it,” and in plural societies, that worth can only be realised through inclusive decision-making.

by Jehan Perera

Continue Reading

Features

Commercialising research in Sri Lanka – not really the healthiest thing for research

Published

on

Image credit University of Sydney

In the early 2000s, a colleague, returning to Sri Lanka after a decade in a research-heavy first world university, complained to me that ‘there is no research culture in Sri Lanka’. But what exactly does having a ‘research culture’ mean? Is a lot of funding enough? What else has stopped us from working towards a productive and meaningful research culture? A concerted effort has been made to improve the research culture of state universities, though there are debates about how healthy such practices are (there is not much consideration of the same in private ‘universities’ in Sri Lanka but that is a discussion for another time). So, in the 25 years since my colleague bemoaned our situation, what has been happening?

What is a ‘research culture’?

A good research culture would be one where we – academics and students – have the resources to engage productively in research. This would mean infrastructure, training, wholesome mentoring, and that abstract thing called headspace. In a previous Kuppi column, I explained at length some of the issues we face as researchers in Sri Lankan universities, including outdated administrative regulations, poor financial resources, and such aspects. My perspective is from the social sciences, and might be different to other disciplines. Still, I feel that there are at least a few major problems that we all face.

Number one: Money is important.

Take the example American universities. Harvard University, according to Harvard Magazine, “received $686.5 million in federally sponsored research grants” for the fiscal year of 2024 but suddenly find themselves in a bind because of such funds being held back. Research funds in these universities typically goes towards building and maintenance of research labs and institutions, costs of equipment, material and other resources and stipends for graduate and other research assistants, conferences, etc. Without such an infusion of money towards research, the USA would not have been able to attracts (and keeps) the talent and brains of other countries. Without a large amount of money dedicated for research, Sri Lankan state universities, too, will not have the research culture it yearns for. Given the country’s austere economic situation, in the last several years, research funds have come mainly from self-generated funds and treasury funds. Yet, even when research funds are available (they are usually inadequate), we still have some additional problems.

Number two: Unending spools of red tape

In Sri Lankan universities red tape is endless. An MoU with a foreign research institution takes at least a year. Financial regulations surrounding the award and spending of research grants is frustrating.

Here’s a personal anecdote. In 2018, I applied for a small research grant from my university. Several months later, I was told I had been awarded it. It comes to me in installments of not more than Rs 100,000. To receive this installment, I must submit a voucher and wait a few weeks until it passes through various offices and gains various approvals. For mysterious financial reasons, asking for reimbursements is discouraged. Obviously then, if I were working on a time-sensitive study or if I needed a larger amount of money for equipment or research material, I would not be able to use this grant. MY research assistants, transcribers, etc., must be willing to wait for their payments until I receive this advance. In 2022, when I received a second advance, the red tape was even tighter. I was asked to spend the funds and settle accounts – within three weeks. ‘Should I ask my research assistants to do the work and wait a few weeks or months for payment? Or should I ask them not to do work until I get the advance and then finish it within three weeks so I can settle this advance?’ I asked in frustration.

Colleagues, who regularly use university grants, frustratedly go along with it; others may opt to work with organisations outside the university. At a university meeting, a few years ago, set up specifically to discuss how young researchers could be encouraged to do research, a group of senior researchers ended the meeting with a list of administrative and financial problems that need to be resolved if we want to foster ‘a research culture’. These are still unresolved. Here is where academic unions can intervene, though they seem to be more focused on salaries, permits and school quotas. If research is part of an academic’s role and responsibility, a research-friendly academic environment is not a privilege, but a labour issue and also impinges on academic freedom to generate new knowledge.

Number three: Instrumentalist research – a global epidemic

The quality of research is a growing concern, in Sri Lanka and globally. The competitiveness of the global research environment has produced seriously problematic phenomena, such as siphoning funding to ‘trendy’ topics, the predatory publications, predatory conferences, journal paper mills, publications with fake data, etc. Plagiarism, ghost writing and the unethical use of AI products are additional contemporary problems. In Sri Lanka, too, we can observe researchers publishing very fast – doing short studies, trying to publish quickly by sending articles to predatory journals, sending the same article to multiple journals at the same time, etc. Universities want more conferences rather than better conferences. Many universities in Sri Lanka have mandated that their doctoral candidates must publish journal articles before their thesis submission. As a consequence, novice researchers frequently fall prey to predatory journals. Universities have also encouraged faculties or departments to establish journals, which frequently have sub-par peer review.

Alongside this are short-sighted institutional changes. University Business Liankage cells, for instance, were established as part of the last World Bank loan cycle to universities. They are expected to help ‘commercialise’ research and focuses on research that can produce patents, and things that can be sold. Such narrow vision means that the broad swathe of research that is undertaken in universities are unseen and ignored, especially in the humanities and social sciences. A much larger vision could have undertaken the promotion of research rather than commercialisation of it, which can then extend to other types of research.

This brings us to the issue of what types of research is seen as ‘relevant’ or ‘useful’. This is a question that has significant repercussions. In one sense, research is an elitist endeavour. We assume that the public should trust us that public funds assigned for research will be spent on worth-while projects. Yet, not all research has an outcome that shows its worth or timeliness in the short term. Some research may not be understood other than by specialists. Therefore, funds, or time spent on some research projects, are not valued, and might seem a waste, or a privilege, until and unless a need for that knowledge suddenly arises.

A short example suffices. Since the 1970s, research on the structures of Sinhala and Sri Lankan Tamil languages (sound patterns, sentence structures of the spoken versions, etc.) have been nearly at a standstill. The interest in these topics are less, and expertise in these areas were not prioritised in the last 30 years. After all, it is not an area that can produce lucrative patents or obvious contributions to the nation’s development. But with digital technology and AI upon us, the need for systematic knowledge of these languages is sorely evident – digital technologies must be able to work in local languages to become useful to whole populations. Without a knowledge of the structures and sounds of local languages – especially the spoken varieties – people who cannot use English cannot use those devices and platforms. While providing impetus to research such structures, this need also validates utilitarian research.

This then is the problem with espousing instrumental ideologies of research. World Bank policies encourage a tying up between research and the country’s development goals. However, in a country like ours, where state policies are tied to election manifestos, the result is a set of research outputs that are tied to election cycles. If in 2019, the priority was national security, in 2025, it can be ‘Clean Sri Lanka’. Prioritising research linked to short-sighted visions of national development gains us little in the longer-term. At the same time, applying for competitive research grants internationally, which may have research agendas that are not nationally relevant, is problematic. These are issues of research ethics as well.

Concluding thoughts

In moving towards a ‘good research culture’, Sri Lankan state universities have fallen into the trap of adopting some of the problematic trends that have swept through the first world. Yet, since we are behind the times anyway, it is possible for us to see the damaging consequences of those issues, and to adopt the more fruitful processes. A slower, considerate approach to research priorities would be useful for Sri Lanka at this point. It is also a time for collective action to build a better research environment, looking at new relationships and collaborations, and mentoring in caring ways.

(Dr. Kaushalya Perera teaches at the Department of English, University of Colombo)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

By Kaushalya Perera

Continue Reading

Features

Melantha …in the spotlight

Published

on

Fun mode for Melantha Perera and Allwyn H. Stephen

Melantha Perera, who has been associated with many top bands in the past, due to his versatility as a musician, is now enjoying his solo career, as well … as a singer.

He was invited to perform at the first ever ‘Noon2Moon’ event, held in Dubai, at The Huddle, CityMax Hotel, on Saturday, 3rd May.

It was 15 hours of non-stop music, featuring several artistes, with Melantha (the only Sri Lankan on the show), doing two sets.

According to reports coming my way, ‘Noon2Moon’ turned out to be the party of the year, with guests staying back till well past 3.00 am, although it was a 12.00 noon to 3.00 am event.

Having Arabic food

Melantha says he enjoyed every minute he spent on stage as the crowd, made up mostly of Indians, loved the setup.

“I included a few Sinhala songs as there were some Sri Lankans, as well, in the scene.”

Allwyn H. Stephen, who is based in the UAE, was overjoyed with the success of ‘Noon2Moon’.

Says Allwyn: “The 1st ever Noon2Moon event in Dubai … yes, we delivered as promised. Thank you to the artistes for the fab entertainment, the staff of The Huddle UAE , the sound engineers, our sponsors, my supporters for sharing and supporting and, most importantly, all those who attended and stayed back till way past 3.00 am.”

Melantha:
Dubai and
then Oman

Allwyn, by the way, came into the showbiz scene, in a big way, when he featured artistes, live on social media, in a programme called TNGlive, during the Covid-19 pandemic.

After his performance in Dubai, Melantha went over to Oman and was involved in a workshop – ‘Workshop with Melantha Perera’, organised by Clifford De Silva, CEO of Music Connection.

The Workshop included guitar, keyboard and singing/vocal training, with hands-on guidance from the legendary Melantha Perera, as stated by the sponsors, Music Connection.

Back in Colombo, Melantha will team up with his band Black Jackets for their regular dates at the Hilton, on Fridays and Sundays, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Warehouse, Vauxhall Street.

Melantha also mentioned that Bright Light, Sri Lanka’s first musical band formed entirely by visually impaired youngsters, will give their maiden public performance on 7th June at the MJF Centre Auditorium in Katubadda, Moratuwa.

Continue Reading

Trending