Miyanapalawa

 Elephant Healing in Miyanapalawa.............

Individuals who possess knowledge in all aspects related to elephants—such as observing elephants, the official science of elephants, elephant charms, and elephant healing—are truly skilled. Such persons with this knowledge related to elephants are rare nowadays. However, we encountered a person with specialized knowledge about elephants. He is Mr. Pradeep Miyanapalawa, the Keeper of the Elephant Stables at the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic.

Descended from a lineage of elephant healers, 'Pradeep Miyanapalawa' is a physician who treats elephants. He is an elephant owner. He is a Keeper of Elephant Stables. He is a mahout. Having lived with elephants since childhood, he is now 46 years old. Having served as the Keeper of the Elephant Stables at the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic for some time, he is extremely busy. Yet, we engaged him in conversation. Allowing him, who deals amicably not only with elephants but also with people, the space to speak, we listened.

"Since the time of the kings in our country, there have been two lineages of elephant healing. One is the 'Hatpotha' lineage. The other is 'Miyanapalawa,' our lineage. The present members of the Hatpotha lineage do not practice healing. But they still possess the knowledge. A relative from Hatpotha recently called and told me that they still have medical texts and palm-leaf manuscripts. There is also the 'Kapugoda' lineage, who learned elephant healing from the Hatpotha lineage and continue it to this day. Currently, the healing is carried on by the son of the Kapugoda physician. He is renowned as a skilled Sinhalese doctor who treats not only elephants but also humans. Likewise, there are several physicians who learned elephant healing from the Hatpotha and Miyanapalawa lineages and still provide treatment today..."

The village where the Hatpotha lineage lives is Rambukkana. The Miyanapalawa lineage lives in Mawanella. There isn't a great distance between the two villages. The ancestral home of the Miyanapalawa lineage is situated near the Ma Oya. Crossing the Sangili bridge over the Ma Oya and proceeding about two hundred meters along the coconut embankment between the Ma Oya and the paddy fields, the Miyanapalawa ancestral home is located. People crossing the Sangili bridge and walking along the coconut embankment can see elephants from afar at the Miyanapalawa ancestral home. It is an extremely beautiful, open environment. The sense of well-being felt by body and mind in that environment is a medicine in itself. Bringing sick elephants to that environment is itself a form of treatment. The garden there is vast enough for even a hundred elephants to live freely.

"My grandfather's time was the golden age of elephant healing. Miraculous healings happened during that time. My grandfather would decide whether he could treat elephants by observing them walking along the coconut embankment..." Pradeep Miyanapalawa's grandfather was Miyanapalawa Ralelage Miyanapalawa. His grandfather (paternal) was Piyasena Miyanapalawa. His father was Sugatharathna Miyanapalawa. Starting from his grandfather's time, Pradeep Miyanapalawa is the fourth elephant healer in the lineage. It is also true that the Miyanapalawa lineage practiced elephant healing even before his grandfather's time. However, the golden age of the Miyanapalawa healing lineage is renowned as the time of Pradeep's grandfather. Pradeep told us that during that time, nearly thirty elephants, coming for treatment each day, would be tethered in the garden of the Miyanapalawa ancestral home.

"The elephant 'Kanda,' who was with the 'Raja' elephant of the Temple of the Tooth, also died in the garden of our ancestral home. In those days, elephant owners corresponded with my grandfather through letters. As soon as an elephant fell ill, the owners would write a letter and send it with the mahout to the Miyanapalawa healer's house. When the animals recovered and were ready to leave, my grandfather would give the mahout a letter to give to the owners. Money was not charged for treatments. My grandfather only accepted a sheaf of betel leaves. However, when bringing sick elephants, the mahouts would arrive with laden carry-nets. In those days, mahouts walked hundreds of kilometers with the elephants. The mahout would stay at the healer's house until the elephant's treatment was complete. The healer's house also provided food and drink for the mahouts. Vegetables needed to feed thirty or forty people a day were cultivated in the ancestral home's garden. The paddy field below the garden yielded a substantial harvest of paddy per season. It was my grandfather's custom to involve all the mahouts staying at the healer's house in the farming work. Mahouts who did not participate in the farming work were expelled from the healer's house, along with their elephants. There was strict discipline under my grandfather..." As Pradeep Miyanapalawa reminisced about the past, I posed a question.

What are the most common diseases elephants get?

"Elephants get every disease that humans get. Additionally, foot disease affecting the nails is a special disease for elephants. Due to excessive heat, the soles of some elephants' feet crack. When dirt accumulates in these cracks, foot disease develops. Even if the soles don't crack, foot disease can develop from living in unhygienic conditions. Cataracts are also common in elephants. Also, when elephants lie down, their great weight can cause bruising, leading to abscesses forming in those areas which then become wounds. Only the Miyanapalawa healing lineage treats this condition. We identify the disease, treat it for a few days, then cauterize and open the abscess, burn away and remove the unnecessary parts to create a clean wound, and then continue treatment. We still possess the traditional instruments needed for that surgery. We soak the instruments in herbal water to energize them before use. There is also a special herbal formula for treating these abscesses. Even an abscess the size of a coconut can be cauterized, treated, and healed without leaving a scar..." Pradeep was again engaged in a phone call.

Currently, the number of tamed elephants living in this country is ninety-two. Pradeep Miyanapalawa has treated seventy-five of them. He has also performed cauterization procedures on more than fifteen elephants. Pradeep succeeded in cauterizing and healing a large abscess that had developed on 'Kota Aliya' belonging to Mudhalali Ariyasena. He also cauterized and treated an abscess on the body of 'Thai Raja' from the Temple of the Tooth's elephant stable. The abscess on 'Kumara Aliya' from Meerigama was also healed through cauterization surgery. Pradeep mentioned that this surgery is not easy to perform.

"Treating elephants is not easy. Those animals do not easily allow themselves to be treated. When a doctor approaches, elephants sense that a treatment is about to be performed. Some elephants don't even like us getting close. They won't even allow themselves to be touched. There are elephants that won't sleep when the veterinary team is around, for fear of being injected. Some elephants don't care even if you treat a wound. When we were cauterizing the abscess on Meerigama Kumara Elephants's leg, he just kept eating. He didn't look at us. He didn't mind at all. We had to go several times to cauterize and treat the abscess on 'Dannoruwa Aliya' from the Walauwwa in Morawatta. The mahout said we could come only after they had tied the elephant up as needed. But when we got close, he screamed and struggled so much it seemed like the whole area would shake. It's impossible to perform cauterization treatment when they struggle like that. After several days, we finally performed the cauterization and healed the elephant. We have saved the lives of elephants that were on the verge of death through such treatments. But we couldn't save my father's life..." Pradeep became emotional.

Piyasena Miyanapalawa passed away prematurely due to an attack by an elephant he was treating. The attack occurred in the year 2002. He was 56 years old at the time. The attack was by the elephant 'Udaya' belonging to the Kataragama Devalaya in Kandy. The elephant Udaya, suffering from severe pain due to abscesses caused by swollen temporal glands, had been tethered and treated at the Miyanapalawa healer's house for some time. Piyasena Miyanapalawa was attacked while the elephant was being bathed in the water. Pradeep resumed the conversation.

"My grandmother taught my father the healing practices. She took my father with her every time she went to examine elephants. She kept him close during treatments and trained him. She taught the grandson more than the son. But my father didn't teach us the healing practices. He kept my brother and me close and made us work hard, almost forcefully. He didn't let assistants prepare the secret medicines. After the mahouts found the medicinal plants my father specified, he had us two prepare the medicines. He kept us close as assistants every time elephants were treated. That was my training. My brother and I prepared every medicine. But more than learning elephant healing, my interest was in looking after elephants. To become a mahout. My brother prioritized preparing medicines and continued that work. He didn't get much involved with the elephants. I followed my father around the elephants. Sometimes, even when my father said not to, I followed the elephants. That's how I learned to look after elephants..." Pradeep Miyanapalawa, who began his education in grade 1 at Dipitiya Royal Maha Vidyalaya, entered Aranayaka Riivisanda Madhya Maha Vidyalaya in grade 6. Pradeep, who passed the Ordinary Level examination with distinction, also passed the Advanced Level examination in the arts stream at the same school.

"From the time I was in grade 6, my father involved me in the healing and nursing tasks. Some days, after school, when I came home, ate, and was washing my hands, my father would call me and assign me to prepare medicines. I used to get angry at those times, though. If there was an elephant with a serious illness at home, we would be late returning home after school. When we cut class like that, my father would understand. Then he would have us prepare medicines until night, even on full-moon days. Although he involved my brother and me in elephant healing and nursing, he involved my sister less. But our mother learned elephant healing well.

Even though everyone at home knew the healing practices, preparing medicine for three or four elephants is not easy. There is no task as difficult as preparing medicine for elephants. You need to prepare enough medicine to fill basins and copper vessels. When preparing a poultice for an elephant, you need to prepare enough to fill a copper vessel. Even after preparing that much, when the poultice is applied for three days, it's finished. For finding medicinal ingredients, mahouts as well as village elders helped us. Even today, the person who finds medicines for me is the same old man who found medicines for my father. Those people are very knowledgeable about the medicinal plants that grow in the forest. When I tell them the name of a medicine, they know where in the forest it's located. The types of herbs used to treat elephants are the same as those used for human treatment. The quantity of medicine used for treatment and the method of preparation are different. Also, in elephant treatments, the potency of the medicines needs to be stronger..."

There was a time when Pradeep Miyanapalawa, engaged in the highly risky mission of saving the lives of sick elephants, also grew weary of 'elephant healing'. That was at the time of his father's death from an elephant attack. Following his father's demise, Pradeep's brother, who was working in the Department of Wildlife, also decided to resign from his job. However, Pradeep was not allowed to stay away from the healing profession for more than four months after his father's death. The she-elephant from Ganegoda in Hemmathagama fell ill, and the elephant owner himself came to the Miyanapalawa ancestral home, offered Pradeep a ceremonial betel tray, addressed him as 'Physician,' and requested him to treat the she-elephant. Unable to refuse the request, a helpless Pradeep looked towards his mother, who was sitting on a nearby chair.

"You cannot refuse these gentlemen's request either. Go, examine the she-elephant, do just that one, and then let's stop," Pradeep's mother advised him thus. She is Chandralatha. Pradeep told us that even today, during certain treatments for sick elephants, he still seeks advice from his mother.

The elephant healing tradition does not end...

Nadungamuwa Raja

 Reincarnated' Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja

A long time ago, a special tusker who was the object of our nation's people's respect and affection was "Raja" the tusker, who carried the sacred casket in the Kandy Esala Perahera. It would not be an exaggeration to say that after the tusker Raja's passing, the tusker who became the object of public attention, affection, respect, and even the veneration of some, was "Nadungamuwa Raja." Although called Nadungamuwa Raja, this tusker's real name was "Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja."

Born in 1953 in Manipur state, India, this tusker came to our country as a gift of gratitude. It was a gift to a monk from a family of physicians in our country who cured a disease that had afflicted an Indian royal. Later, from 1978 onwards, he was raised under the guardianship of the 'Dharma Vijaya' family of physicians in Nadungamuwa. Except for a few occasions since the year 2000 until 2021, it was Nadungamuwa Raja who had the fortune of carrying the Sacred Tooth Relic in the Dalada Perahera.

Asia's tallest tamed tusker, as well as a majestic tusker adorned with auspicious marks that captivated onlookers, Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja's residence was the homestead in Nadungamuwa, Gampaha, under the care of Dr. Harsha Dharma Vijaya. Finally, affirming the impermanence of all things, Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja passed away in the early morning of March 7th, 2022.

However, considering him a national treasure and following the precedent set by the preservation of the body of "Raja the tusker" at the Dalada Maligawa in the past, the government decided on the instructions of former President Gotabaya Rajapaksa to preserve the body of "Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja" as well. Although there were various discussions about the preservation site, it was decided that the work would be carried out by the Colombo National Museum Department. Accordingly, under the direction of the Department's Director General, Ms. Sanuja Kasturiarachchi, it is currently being preserved at the department's Natural Museum premises.

Nadungamuwa Raja died at Dr. Harsha Dharma Vijaya's homestead. However, it is being preserved at the Colombo National Museum premises. Using this as an entry point, we inquired from the department's Deputy Director General (Zoology) in charge of the preservation work, Ms. Lankani Somaratne, about the preservation process.

"Yes. We first went to the relevant site. Here, more time and labor had to be invested than what is usually spent on preserving a normal animal. So about fourteen of us worked day and night on this. First, we took the necessary measurements accurately. That was a somewhat strenuous task because this is not a normal animal, it's a tusker. For that, a crane was used. Taking measurements took about six hours. Usually, if preserving an animal, that work should start within about twelve hours of death. So after taking measurements, we began skinning. Normally, when skinning, you cannot do it intermittently. It has to be done continuously.

There, we skinned continuously for about forty-eight hours. During that time, chemical solutions were applied intermittently for preservation. Afterwards, we carried out basic preservation work for about another eight days. There, with the help of backhoes, a pit was dug, and the skin was placed in it and immersed in a chemical solution. Meanwhile, the tusker's two tusks and skull were transported to the Museum Department.

All this work was done under police security. Furthermore, the entry of outsiders was prevented. However, that security was not limited to that. It was also because the tusks and skull brought to the museum premises had to be buried again on those same premises. That too was done to ensure the success of the preservation work. The tusks and skull were buried over a period of three months. During that entire period, special police security was provided for it. Later, the preserved skin of the tusker was brought and deposited in a refrigerated container belonging to the Department of Wildlife Conservation.

Truly, preserving "Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja" was a responsible task. Although there was prior experience in preserving the Dalada Maligawa's "Raja" and the Millangoda Raja, and although more advanced preservation methods existed compared to the past, Nadungamuwa Raja was a tusker that received much greater public attention than the aforementioned tuskers.

Many people have photographs of the tusker. Many have even observed its various postures and behavioral patterns. Therefore, if there is a difference between the image of Nadungamuwa Raja in the public consciousness and the condition of Nadungamuwa Raja after preservation, it could face criticism from many. We also inquired about this challenging situation.

"Yes. That situation must be prevented. Therefore, we involved resource persons like Senior Professor Devaka Weerakoon from the Department of Zoology, Faculty of Science, University of Colombo, and Director of the Department of Wildlife Conservation, Veterinary Surgeon Taraka Prasad. Also, Professor Nihal Dayawansa from the University of Colombo helped. So when preserving, for example, the placement of the tusker's feet, the posture along with the shape of the feet, ears, etc., since sensitive organs are difficult to preserve and reconstruct, those conditions were well supervised."

Indeed, this means making the work of the Museum Department officials and the staff involved more productive and enabling a better preservation task. Therefore, receiving such advisory contributions from field scholars is more effective.

Meanwhile, as mentioned before, the tusker's skin, which had been kept in the Wildlife Department's freezer, was brought to the National Museum premises, preserved, and deposited in the National Museum's refrigerated chambers.

After this, regarding the method of assembling the tusker's skeleton, when we asked Ms. Chamalka Kothelawala, the first woman to contribute to the Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja Preservation Project and currently the only taxidermist in South Asia, from the National Museum's Natural Science Department, she said the following:

"For now, we have allocated a specific place at the Natural History Museum of the National Museum and started that work. Here, under the supervision of the aforementioned resource scholars, we dug pits about one and a half feet wide and placed the tusker's feet there. Also, the iron frame for the tusker is now being prepared. After that, using materials like padding, netting, plaster bandages, and preservatives, the tusker's body is created. Then the skull and two tusks are attached. Here, attaching the skull and two tusks is not a simple task. Because the parts must be attached with the correct technique so they can bear the weight of the body. After that, the preserved skin parts are properly placed on the tusker's frame, stitched, and the work is finished. Here, the tusker's eyes are made from artificial glass eyes imported from abroad.

After thus basically completing the preservation work and after assembling the frame and covering it with skin, one might think all work is finished. At first glance it may seem so, but the real situation is not that. Whatever creation we make, there are times when the entire creation is measured based on how successful its final finish is. Considering that situation in the preservation of Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja, the final form of the tusker is especially important. Because the image of Nadungamuwa Raja is so deeply ingrained in the public mind. We also specifically inquired about this situation.

"Yes. Actually, the final form of the tusker must be obtained properly. There is a special group at the National Museum Department to properly arrange the final form. They are called 'model artists'. They are a group like sculptors. There, to properly obtain the tusker's form after putting on the skin, we get the assistance of model artists. Especially artists like Susantha Balasuriya, Ravindra Wickramanayake, Amila Senanayake, and Thilina Tharaka contribute to this.

After that, we apply chemical solutions again to carry out those preservation tasks. The reason for that is, the seams we made need to be smoothed. If any artificial-looking conditions appear there, they need to be smoothed. So all this is done. The aim of all this is to do the finishing well. That means, so that one cannot tell if this is the preserved and created 'Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja' tusker or not."

Amidst all this, we finally asked taxidermist Ms. Chamalka Kothelawala about the difference between the preservation work done on the Dalada Maligawa's Raja and the later preserved Millangoda Raja, and the current preservation work on the Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja tusker.

"For the two tuskers, the Dalada Maligawa's Raja and Millangoda Raja, the dry preservation method was used. But for Nadungamuwa Raja, the wet preservation method was used. The other difference is that for the Dalada Maligawa's Raja and Millangoda Raja, jackwood frames were used as skeletons. But for Nadungamuwa Raja, an iron frame was used. These are the main differences."

From the moment it was learned that Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja had died and instructions were received to preserve it, from the responsible task of properly separating the skin, working tirelessly to this day, and those who hope to continue their work with commitment until the work is finished—the officials and staff of the National Museum Department truly deserve our appreciation. Because a much more uniquely disciplined role than what is visible externally is being fulfilled by them.

However, Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja is not with us today. But it is not an exaggeration to say that the memory of that special tusker is refreshed every time he is seen in processions. To not only refresh that memory but also to communicate it to future generations, it will be possible through the image of Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja being preserved and reconstructed at the Natural Museum premises of the National Museum Department. That will be soon, with the opening to public display of the preserved 'Nadungamuwa Vijaya Raja'.

Elephant Weera

Weera (T065)

Veera,

A single-tusked elephant with only the left tusk, aged about 45 years. It is very likely that Viera was born single tusk. Veera, who is more than 9 feet tall, is currently suffering from eyesight problems. Recently, Veera has been treated by the Wildlife Veterinary Unit several times for various human-caused injuries.

Roaming in the areas around Kala Lake, National Namal Garden, Thoniyagala, Maradankadawala, Kekirawa, the hero spends time in solitude. He was rarely seen with other elephants.

However, Veera, who is traveling with difficulty due to her visual impairment, had traveled from Namal National Park to Mihinthala some time ago. It is very sad that Veera had to face several bullet holes during that journey.

This is a good example of elephants' excellent memory of traditional travel routes. They use the landscapes like water sources, rocks, big trees, etc. to remember the routes they traveled with their mother when they were children. They are always inclined to travel along the roads that are kept in mind and no matter how blocked such roads are, they risk their lives or travel on that road. It is a truth that we humans must understand. In order to find a sustainable solution to the elephant-human conflict that has escalated in the forest at this time, all the elephant corridors that have been blocked by human activities should be freed again.

The non-aggressive Vira often spends more time in sparsely populated forested areas than in protected areas. There is very little chance of harming Veera by spending time near settlements in areas such as Thoniyagala, National Namal Park, Maradankadawala. That is because there is a group of young people in those areas, including the Maha Sangharathana, who love these elephants and look after them. But there is great risk in migration to Mihintale and Mahakanadarava areas. Several of the country's famous elephants were shot at in the areas around Mihintale and Mahakanadarava.

However, it is our responsibility to ensure that Veera, the only one-tusked elephant living in the area, lives up to his maximum age after the death of the Kala Lake single tusk in 2010 or thereabouts. It is not only the responsibility of the Wildlife Conservation Department but it is the responsibility of all of us who love elephants.

Elephant Madu

 

It’s been a year now. A year since a soul named Madhu left this world, but his story is not one of peaceful departure. It is a story that hangs in the air of Sri Lanka's forests and temples, a heavy, sorrowful ghost that refuses to be silenced. To speak of Madhu is to speak of a single, tragic package of suffering, shot through the heart of a creature who knew both the boundless freedom of the wild and the bitter chains of captivity. He was, in his brief life, a wild elephant calf, a rescued patient, a captive, a temple offering, and finally, a broken-hearted statistic.

His story begins not with his end, but with a desperate fight for his beginning. The memory of his rescue is still vivid, a tale best told by the man who was there, a story now immortalized in the book "Ten Years with Wild Elephants" by Vijitha Perera, who now, as the venerable Panadure Vimukthi Rathan Thero, lives a life of asceticism, perhaps haunted by the memories of the souls he tried to save.

The Rescue – A Snare and a Mother's Love

It was a morning like any other at the Udawalawe Elephant Transit Home, until a piece of information crackled through: a young calf in a herd near the Mother Ara area was in terrible trouble. The report said it was walking with immense difficulty, its leg grotesquely swollen. We mobilized immediately, driving down the dirt track that snaked through the grasslands, our eyes scanning the green-gold landscape.

And then we saw them. The herd was moving into the thicker jungle for their midday rest, a slow, majestic river of grey. And there, at the very back, was our calf. He was about three and a half years old, a small, vulnerable creature standing about four and a half feet tall. He was with his mother, but his progress was a painful lurch. His front right leg, swollen like a balloon, barely touched the ground. With every step, he seemed to wince in a silence that was louder than any trumpet.

As we watched through binoculars, our hearts sank. This was no simple injury. A deep, infected wound festered around his leg, and peeking through the pus and swelling was the cruel culprit: a wire snare. This wasn't an accident of the forest; this was the work of man. The cable had sawed into his flesh, biting down to the bone. The calf was trying to stop, to give up, but his mother, with an urgency that spoke of primal understanding, was constantly behind him, nudging him, pushing him, her trunk a gentle but firm propellant of despair. She knew that to fall behind was to die.

It was clear he wouldn't last more than a few days. The jungle is merciless to the weak. The infection would claim him, and he would become just another unseen tragedy in the vast wilderness. We had to act. Capturing him and bringing him to the Transit Home was his only chance.

Fate, it seemed, had assembled a rescue team for us that very day. A new veterinarian, Dr. Suhada Jayawerdene, was present. A group of veterinary students had volunteered to help with work around the Home. Even the lorry we used for transport was serendipitously parked at the facility. All the pieces were in place. With official permission secured, we set our plan.

We knew the herd would return to the grasslands in the evening. We waited, our vehicle positioned, our tranquilizer gun loaded. The herd emerged as the sun began to soften, a golden hour painted with tension. Our target was there, grazing weakly, staying close to his mother's side. We needed a clean shot, a moment when he was clear of the other massive bodies. The moment came when his mother shifted, creating a narrow window. I aimed and fired, the *phut* of the dart gun sounding impossibly loud in the evening calm.

The herd startled, shuffling nervously. The calf, stung and frightened, let out a small cry. But seeing no clear threat, the herd settled, perhaps thinking it was just an insect bite. We waited for seven agonizing minutes until the drugs took hold, and the little calf slowly, gently, folded onto the grass. To the herd, it must have looked like he was simply lying down to rest.

Then, we moved. On our signal, our support team erupted, firing thunder flashes and signal crackers into the air. The noise was terrifying, a man-made storm designed to panic. The herd, seized by primal fear, turned and fled into the jungle, a thunderous stampede that shook the ground. They left their youngest member behind.

We rushed to his side. His breathing was already shallow. We administered the reversal drugs and started him on saline and energy boosters. Within minutes, he was back on his feet, but dazed and unsteady. We secured his legs with soft ropes, attaching them to our vehicle since there were no trees nearby. We sent a message for the lorry to come to the gate. Everything was proceeding.

But the jungle had one more player in this drama.

The Mother's Gaze – A Confrontation of Souls

From the tree line, another elephant emerged. It was her. The mother. She had turned back. We all froze. She charged towards us, a force of pure, maternal fury. We scrambled, firing the remaining thunder flashes to deter her. She recoiled, startled by the noise and flashes, and retreated. But only for a moment.

She turned and charged again. And again. We drove her back each time, but her resolve was terrifying. Our supply of thunder flashes was dwindling. Soon, we were out. We were weaponless, facing a two-ton mother whose child we were stealing.

She charged again, and this time, we had no choice but to scramble back onto our vehicle. The engine roared to life, but we couldn't drive away—her calf was tied to it. We were trapped, a mere twenty feet from a creature capable of crushing us with ease. All we could do was shout, a pathetic, desperate human noise against her monumental grief.

She stopped. Not at us, but at her son. She stood over his sedated, prone body. Then, she turned her head and looked directly at us. But what we saw in her eyes haunts me to this day. It wasn't the threatening glare of a wild animal. It was an utterly lost, helpless, and pleading look. It was the gaze of a mother who had fought through every obstacle to protect her child and was now utterly defeated. She could have easily charged the last few feet and ended us. But she didn't. In that moment, she seemed to understand the futility of it all.

The standoff was surreal. She stayed with her calf, nuzzling him, trying to rouse him. He was awake but dopey, unresponsive to her silent commands. She wanted him to get up and leave with her. He couldn't. She stood there, her eyes shifting from his still form to us, a silent, devastating accusation.

When the lorry finally arrived with more thunder flashes, we used the noise and the vehicle's advance to finally drive her away for good. It was a heartbreaking sight. She would run a short distance, then turn back, only to be driven off again. It was a war of attrition we were forced to win.

Loading the dazed calf onto the high bed of the lorry was a Herculean effort. As we finally managed to get him secured, we saw her one last time. She followed the lorry as we drove away, a solitary, grieving figure in the encroaching dusk. She chased us for nearly two kilometers, her calls echoing through the twilight, a sound of pure, unadulterated anguish. It was the sound of a mother's heart being torn out. She finally faded from view, a ghost in her own world.

Madhu's New Life – From "Maddha" to a Friend

Back at the Transit Home, the severity of his injury was clear. The wire snare was deeply embedded, sawing into the bone. We named him "Maddha," after the snare that had trapped him. But officially, he was registered as Madhu.

Madhu was furious. His world had been ripped away. The unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells, and the absence of his mother, terrified him. He was violently aggressive. None of us could get near him. We had to tighten his ropes. He refused food and water. His spirit was broken, and his body was failing.

We tried a new tactic. We led him to the edge of the Udawalawe reservoir, tying him to a tree near the water. The effect was immediate. The water soothed him. He waded in, drank, and began to eat the grasses on the bank. The frantic wildness in his eyes began to subside, replaced by a weary acceptance.

But he still wouldn't tolerate humans. We had to sedate him for every treatment, a dangerous and unsustainable practice. Our breakthrough came from an unexpected ally: another young elephant named Migara. Migara was the confident, dominant male of the calf group. For some reason, Madhu was submissive to him. With Migara by his side, we could change Madhu's ropes, offer him food, and most importantly, reach his wounded leg to treat it. Madhu, under Migara's watchful eye, would tolerate our touch.

We then tried bottle-feeding him formula, again using Migara as a shield. It worked. Madhu drank greedily. It was a turning point. The act of receiving nourishment from a human hand began to dissolve his fear and anger. He transformed from a terrified, aggressive prisoner into our close friend. He no longer needed Migara's protection. Madhu had learned to trust us.

For two months, we nursed him. His leg healed beautifully. His body, once emaciated, grew strong. Our goal was always to return him to the wild, to his herd, to his mother. We were confident she would recognize and accept him. We formally requested permission for his release.

And then, the bureaucracy of fate intervened.

The Betrayal – From Freedom to a Golden Chain

We were told that Madhu would be released with the next group of calves. We agreed, hopeful. But that hope was a lie. A few weeks later, a new order came down: Madhu was to be donated to a temple.

We were stunned. We argued, we pleaded. How could giving a wild-born creature a life of chains and servitude be considered a "meritorious deed"? But the decision came from high up in the political sphere. The Department of Wildlife had to comply. In a cruel twist, his name was at the top of the list for release, which made it the first name to be picked for this "donation."

We were powerless. Madhu, whose freedom we had fought for, whose life we had saved from the brutality of a snare, was now being handed over to a different kind of trap. We took him to the Dalada Maligawa, and he was then given to the historic Rajamaha Viharaya in Badulla.

His name was changed to "Madhu Sanka." The next day, we went to say goodbye. He was being bathed in the Mahaweli River with two other temple elephants. When I called his name, he immediately emerged from the water and ran to me. He touched me with his trunk, as if to say, "Why? Why is this happening?" It was a final, heartbreaking farewell.

The Ghost and the Final Goodbye

Years passed. In 2006, I was driving through Habarana, a area famous for its "elephant safaris." I saw a small, under-sized elephant, around 10-12 years old, struggling under the weight of tourists on its back. A dreadful suspicion gripped me. I asked a mahout about the small elephant's name. When he said "Madhu," I could barely hide the tears that welled in my eyes. This was the calf we had saved. This was his life now.

Later, I saw him again at a river where safari elephants were taken to bathe. I walked towards him with a mahout I knew. I called his name, "Madhu." He stood up. But he did not run to me. He just stood there and looked at me. The trust, the friendship, the bond we had built was gone. In his eyes was no warmth, only a deep, resigned question: "Why did you make me a prisoner?"

That was the last time I saw him alive. He died a year ago, after a short, brutal illness, having spent the majority of his life in service, a life he was never meant to live.

Madhu's story is not unique. Nearly forty elephants gifted by the government in this way have met premature, tragic ends. Some are dead; others, like Madhu was, continue to live in silent suffering. And yet, the very associations that claim to represent "tamed" elephants still have the audacity to beg for more resources, for more "domesticated" elephants, while the ones they have are dying of neglect and broken hearts. It is a cycle of greed and hypocrisy that preys on the most majestic symbols of our nation.

Madhu's year of absence is a monument not just to his suffering, but to our collective failure. He was a wild soul we tried to save, only to deliver him into a different, more prolonged kind of death. 

His memory is a ghost that asks a simple, unanswerable question: For an animal born to roam free, what is the greater cruelty—the sharp, sudden bite of a snare, or the slow, lifelong chain of a temple or a safari?

Indi Raja

Indi Raja: The Trusted Tusker Who Bears the Sacred Casket

In Sinhalese culture, the elephant—a symbol of both majestic power and immense size—is one of the most talked-about creatures. Since the era of Sri Lankan kings, the sacred casket has been carried on the back of an elephant in every major procession. Leading these processions on an elephant is considered a great honor. Over time, a "domesticated elephant lineage" was established from elephants captured in the wild, received from orphanages, or offered as gifts to temples and *devales*, including the Sri Dalada Maligawa (the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic).

However, the number of tame elephants in the country has now dwindled to less than a hundred, with only eighteen tuskers among them. Of these, only three mature tuskers possess the ideal temperament, physical characteristics, and impeccable health required to carry the Sacred Casket: Wasana from the Kataragama Devala, and Indi Raja and Sinha Raja from the Dalada Maligawa's elephant stable.

It is our wish to present a series of articles titled "The Tame Elephant Herd," featuring detailed information about these three and all the other tame tuskers in Sri Lanka. This is the first story in that series.

Carrying the casket and sacred ornaments in the Kandy Esala Perahera and other processions is considered an act of great merit for an elephant, but it is also a profound responsibility. The tusker chosen for this sacred duty must be of excellent character. He must have a full-bodied form, a majestic appearance, and a beautifully matched pair of tusks that curve forward symmetrically like a plowshare. He should possess a calm mind, a gentle gait, sharp intelligence, and a compassionate nature, belonging to the "Mangala" caste and being in the prime of his life.

The largest "Elephant King" currently in the Dalada Maligawa's stable is **Indi Raja**, a noble Saddantha born from the Mangala caste for the very purpose of carrying the Sacred Casket. Indi Raja is the complete embodiment of all the required qualities. His neck is shaped in a way that makes it perfectly suited for securing the ceremonial costume.

A Gift from India

Indi Raja was born in 1980 as "Basheer" at the Theppakadu Elephant Orphanage near the Mudumalai Wildlife Sanctuary in South India. Even from a young age, he displayed calm and noble traits. His father was a wild elephant from Mudumalai, while his mother lived at the orphanage, one of India's oldest.

In 1988, following the Indo-Lanka Accord, a delegation of Sri Lankan Buddhist leaders traveled to India. During discussions about the safety of Sri Lankan pilgrims, they made a request to the then Prime Minister, Rajiv Gandhi, for a tusker for the Maligawa. They reminded him that his mother, Indira Gandhi, had previously donated an elephant named "Jaya Raja," and that since the passing of the Maligawa's main tusker in 1988, there was no suitable elephant to carry the casket.

In response, the Indian government agreed to donate an elephant. The then Diyawadana Nilame, Neranjan Dullewe Wijeyeratne, traveled to India and, after inspecting several elephants at the Mudumalai orphanage, selected Basheer. In February 1989, the six-year-old tusker was brought to Sri Lanka and formally presented to the Dalada Maligawa by the Indian High Commissioner. As a gesture of gratitude for this gift from India, Basheer was renamed **"Indi Raja"**—the Indian King.

The Guardian of the Perahera

Indi Raja grew up safely within the Maligawa's stable and carried the Sacred Casket for the first time in the 1994 Esala Perahera. Before that, he had participated in processions as a junior tusker. He also holds the distinction of being the youngest tusker ever to be granted the honor of carrying the Relic.

It's difficult to pinpoint the exact number of Peraheras Indi Raja has led, but since 2005, he has missed only one. In the 2009 Perahera, he carried the casket for all ten nights. While he can be fierce and impulsive in his daily life, during the Perahera, he becomes a devotee. He is now the most trusted tusker for this sacred task.

No matter how close the men holding the ceremonial canopy get, or if they bump into him, or even cause him some discomfort, Indi Raja never loses his composure. Carrying the heavy casket with the canopy is not an easy task, and the elephant can sometimes be distressed. Yet, Indi Raja never breaks his discipline. Even if another elephant attacks him, he does not retaliate. In 2013, while carrying the casket, he was attacked by a junior tusker named Burma Raja. Indi Raja endured the blow without causing any disturbance, calmly continuing to protect the Sacred Casket.

A Complex and Noble Character

His handlers know him as a complex being. His behavior in the morning can be different from his demeanor in the afternoon or evening. Understanding Indi Raja's nature requires a subtle intuition. He was cared for by a mahout named Siril for a long time, and after Siril's passing in 2012, his apprentice Susantha took over. Recently, mahout Nihal Sirisena has been looking after him.

Indi Raja is strong, energetic, and a skilled worker. Records from his time in India show he was used for heavy labor, and his superintendent there held a special fondness for him. Even after coming to Kandy, he was used for work until 2006, after which he was retired. He is now well-fed and cared for, but he longs not for a life in captivity, but for the freedom to roam villages. Recognizing this, the Maligawa periodically releases him for two or three months at a time near reservoirs and lakes, where he can live freely, eat well, and be content.

Indi Raja has a healthy appetite, with a particular fondness for kitul palm. He needs a substantial amount daily and currently weighs 3.2 tonnes. He stands at 10 feet and 2 inches and is 45 years old. His upkeep costs the Maligawa around Rs. 250,000 per month, a figure that rises with medical care.

Health and Vigilance

He has a greater tendency to fall ill than other elephants in the stable and has faced several serious health crises. In 2010, a wound near his eye from a mahout's attempt to calm him became severely infected. Thanks to dedicated veterinary care, his eyesight was saved. On another occasion, a parasitic worm was found causing significant internal damage. The Diyawadana Nilame at the time acted swiftly, importing medicine from India and curing him within five months. There is now a suspicion that this parasitic infection may have returned, causing his recent, abnormal weight loss.

"The elephants undergo a medical check-up every three months and a blood test every six months," explains the Maligawa's elephant stable manager, Pradeep Miwanpala. "We administer deworming medicine based on their weight. Due to his current condition, we are not involving Indi Raja in other processions. We have been advised to give him maximum freedom. He is an elephant who must lead the Kandy Perahera for another 20 or 30 years. Losing him would be a colossal loss for the festival. Therefore, we are committed to caring for him to the best of our ability."

A Living Treasure

It is no exaggeration to call Indi Raja one of the most meritorious animals alive. He has carried the Sacred Casket more times than any other tusker in recent history and is the undisputed leader of the Maligawa's elephant herd.

As we conclude this story, we join in the prayer for the health and long life of this magnificent tusker, that he may continue his sacred duty for many Esala Peraheras to come.

Human-Elephant Conflict

A Clash of Worlds: Unraveling Sri Lanka's Human-Elephant Conflict

The serenity of Sri Lanka's rural landscape is often shattered by a primal, heartbreaking conflict. In a small village, the deep, guttural rumble of an elephant approaching sends a wave of fear through the community. This isn't a scene from a documentary; it's a nightly reality for thousands of families living on the edge of the wild. Every year, this clash between man and beast claims the lives of over 80 elephants and around 30 humans, a grim statistic that places Sri Lanka at the epicenter of the global human-elephant conflict (HEC). The economic toll is equally devastating, with farmers losing millions of rupees in crops, their life's work disappearing in a single night.

This crisis isn't a new phenomenon, but it has escalated to unprecedented levels. It's a complex web of environmental, social, and economic factors, but by untangling the root causes, we can begin to weave a new narrative—one of coexistence rather than conflict. This comprehensive look will explore not just the "why," but also the "how" and "who" behind the solution, outlining both immediate fixes and long-term, sustainable strategies for a shared future.

The Root Causes: Why Giants Leave the Wild

The motivations behind an elephant's journey into a village are not driven by a desire for confrontation. They are born of instinct and desperation, a direct consequence of a world that is rapidly changing around them.

1. Loss and Fragmentation of Habitat

This is the single most significant factor driving the conflict. For centuries, elephants roamed freely across vast, interconnected forests. In the last hundred years, however, Sri Lanka has witnessed the destruction of over 80% of these ancient habitats. Forests are cleared to make way for large-scale agricultural projects like palm oil and tea plantations, new roads, and ever-expanding settlements.

More insidious than outright deforestation is the fragmentation of these remaining habitats. Elephants rely on ancient, instinctive pathways known as "elephant corridors" to migrate between different foraging areas, find water sources, and seek mates. When a new highway, a railway line, or a human settlement cuts across one of these vital corridors, it acts as an impenetrable barrier. With their traditional routes blocked, elephants are forced to find new paths, and these new paths inevitably lead them into human territories, where they come into direct contact with people and their property.

2. The Allure of an Easy Meal

In a world of increasing scarcity, the temptation of cultivated crops becomes irresistible. The effects of climate change, including longer dry seasons and more unpredictable rainfall, are decimating the natural vegetation elephants rely on for food and water. Faced with a dwindling food supply in the wild, the scent of a farmer’s field—filled with calorie-dense, easily accessible crops like rice, corn, bananas, and sugarcane—is a powerful siren call. A single elephant can consume up to 150 kg of food and 100 liters of water a day. When natural sources are scarce, a farmer's well and a lush rice paddy become a matter of survival, not choice.

3. Poor Land-Use Planning and Governance

The conflict is a direct reflection of a failure in land-use planning. Villages and farms are often established without considering their proximity to elephant habitats. Existing buffer zones are poorly managed or non-existent, and encroachment on protected areas is rampant. This is compounded by a lack of enforcement of existing environmental laws. Without a clear and respected line between human and animal territory, elephants have no choice but to cross into human-dominated areas. This creates a perpetual cycle of encroachment and conflict.

4. Retaliation Breeds Aggression

The conflict is not a one-sided affair. Human attempts to deter elephants can often have the opposite effect, escalating tensions and making the animals more aggressive and dangerous over time. Poorly maintained electric fences, which may deliver a painful but non-lethal shock, can infuriate an elephant rather than deter it, teaching it to associate humans with pain. Similarly, the use of firecrackers, slingshots, and even gunshots to scare elephants away might work in the short term, but it teaches them to perceive humans as a threat. Over time, these elephants may become more hostile and unpredictable, transforming from foraging animals into aggressive, defensive creatures. The tragic reality is that many of the most dangerous "rogue" elephants are a direct result of this learned behavior, born from repeated negative encounters with humans.

A Path to Coexistence: Solutions for a Shared Future

Solving the HEC requires a multi-faceted approach, combining immediate, practical measures to protect lives and property with long-term, visionary strategies that address the root causes.

Long-Term Fixes

Protecting and Restoring Elephant Habitats:

 The most crucial long-term strategy is to restore and reconnect elephant habitats. This involves large-scale reforestation of degraded lands, focusing on native plant species that provide the natural forage elephants need. More importantly, it requires securing and protecting wildlife corridors to ensure elephants can migrate safely between forest patches. This strategy not only benefits elephants but also supports biodiversity and ecosystem health across the country.

Smarter Farming Practices:

Farmers can significantly reduce crop raiding by adopting "elephant-proof" farming techniques. This includes planting crops that elephants find unappealing, such as chili, lemongrass, citronella, or garlic, along the perimeter of their fields. The strong scent and taste of these plants act as a natural deterrent. Additionally, community-based farming where large fields are collectively protected and guarded is far more effective than individual farmers trying to protect small, scattered plots.

Water and Food Management:

To reduce the elephants' need to enter villages for resources, we can proactively manage resources within their habitats. This includes building and maintaining artificial waterholes and reservoirs inside forests, particularly in areas susceptible to drought. Providing mineral-rich "salt licks" and planting preferred forage species can also help ensure elephants' nutritional needs are met in the wild, reducing their motivation to seek out food in human settlements.

Short-Term Fixes

Effective Electric Fencing:

While not a perfect solution, well-designed and maintained electric fences are a vital tool for immediate protection. These must be solar-powered for reliability and community-managed to ensure they are functional year-round. Modern designs incorporate specific wire heights and configurations that are proven to be more effective at deterring elephants.

Early Warning Systems:

Technology can be a powerful ally. Attaching GPS collars to key elephants allows wildlife officials and village watch groups to track their movements in real-time, providing early warnings and allowing for preventative action. Community-based mobile apps and SMS systems can also be used for farmers to report sightings, creating a network of communication that warns others of an elephant’s presence in the area.

Safe Deterrents:

Non-lethal and innovative deterrents offer a promising alternative to violent retaliation. Beehive fences, for instance, use an elephant's natural fear of bees to create a protective barrier. A series of beehives linked by a wire can effectively protect a large area. The bees' buzzing and potential stings are a powerful deterrent, and the honey produced can provide farmers with an alternative income source. Other non-lethal methods include the use of bright, motion-activated floodlights and "chili bombs" — non-toxic smoke devices that release a powerful chili scent that elephants dislike.

A Shared Responsibility: The Path Forward

Finding a lasting solution to the HEC is a shared responsibility that requires a concerted effort from the government, conservation organizations, and local communities.

Government Actions:

The government must take a leading role by enacting and strictly enforcing land-use laws that prevent development in critical elephant corridors. It must also establish a swift and transparent compensation system for crop damage and loss of life to reduce the economic hardship on farmers and discourage retaliatory acts. Increased investment in the Department of Wildlife Conservation and greater resources for forest rangers are also crucial for effective patrols and monitoring.

Community Actions:

Local communities are on the front lines and must be empowered to be part of the solution. Establishing trained village watch groups to monitor elephant movements and developing community-based early warning systems can save lives. Education programs that teach rural communities about elephant behavior and the importance of conservation can foster a culture of coexistence. These programs can shift the narrative from one of fear and conflict to one of respect and understanding.

Conclusion: Coexistence is Possible

The human-elephant conflict is a heartbreaking reminder of the challenges we face as our world changes and human needs expand. But it is not a hopeless situation. By combining short-term, practical solutions like effective fences and warning systems with long-term, visionary strategies like habitat restoration and sustainable land-use planning, a future of coexistence is not just a dream—it is an achievable reality.

The elephants of Sri Lanka are not just wild animals; they are a vital part of the nation's heritage and a keystone species for its ecosystems. Protecting their homes is not just a matter of conservation; it is an act of self-preservation. When we protect their world, we protect our own. The choice is ours: to continue a destructive cycle of conflict, or to forge a new path where man and giant can share the land in peace.

Nakolagane’s Forests

The Destruction of Nakolagane’s Forests and Wetlands: 

An Environmental and Humanitarian Crisis

Introduction  

The Nakolagane forest and wetlands in Sri Lanka’s Kurunegala District are under severe threat due to illegal deforestation and land clearing. Despite warnings from environmental activists like Sajeewa Chamikara in 2021, the destruction has continued unchecked. A powerful Buddhist monk, Walathwewa Rahula Thero, along with business allies, has been systematically clearing protected lands for commercial agriculture, disregarding environmental laws and endangering wildlife. The consequences—escalating human-elephant conflict, water scarcity, and biodiversity loss—demand urgent intervention.  

This article examines:  

1. The extent of deforestation and illegal land grabs

2. The ecological and social consequences

3. The failure of authorities to enforce laws

4. Solutions to prevent further damage

1. The Scale of Deforestation and Illegal Land Leasing 

Unlawful Clearing of Protected Land 

- Nakolagane’s forests are part of a 5,000-acre ecosystem that includes wetlands, reservoirs, and wildlife habitats.  

- Over 50 acres have already been destroyed, with permits illegally issued for another 700 acres.  

- The land belongs to **Nakolagane Rajamaha Vihara, a Buddhist temple, but its chief monk has leased it to businessmen without government approval.  

Violations of Environmental Laws

- National Environmental Act (1980) – Requires environmental impact assessments (EIAs) for clearing over 1 hectare (2.47 acres). None were conducted.  

-North-Western Provincial Environmental Statute (1990) – Prohibits clearing near reservoirs. Yet, forests around Palukadawala Lake have been bulldozed.  

- Archaeology Ordinance (1940) – The area contains ancient temple ruins, but no heritage assessments were done before clearing.  

Who is Responsible?  

- Walathwewa Rahula Thero (Chief Monk) – Illegally leased temple land.  

- Local Politicians – Allegedly protecting the monk and businessmen.  

- Government Inaction – Despite complaints, no legal action has been taken.  

2. Ecological and Social Consequences

A. Escalating Human-Elephant Conflict

- Nakolagane is a key elephant corridor, home to 1,189 elephants (20% of Sri Lanka’s total).  

- Deforestation forces elephants into villages, leading to:  

  - Increased attacks – Elephants raid farms for food, resulting in deaths on both sides (e.g., the killing of Bathiya the elephant).  

  - Crop destruction – Farmers lose livelihoods, deepening poverty.  

B. Water Scarcity Threatens Agriculture  

- The forests feed 25+ lakes including:  

  - Palukadawala Lake (main water source)  

  - Manakkulamayagama Lake  

  - Hunugallewa Lake  

- Deforestation reduces water retention, leading to:  

  - Drying reservoirs – Farmers face irrigation shortages.  

  - Lower groundwater levels – Drinking wells are at risk.  

C. Biodiversity Loss 

- A 2014 study recorded 118 species in Nakolagane, including:  

  - Endemic birds (4 species)  

  - Threatened reptiles  

  - Elephants, leopards, and other mammals  

- Habitat destruction could lead to local extinctions.  

3. Government and Institutional Failures 

A. Authorities Ignoring the Crisis 

- Central Environmental Authority (CEA) – Failed to halt illegal clearing.  

- Forest Department – Did not enforce protections.  

- Archaeology Department– Ignored damage to heritage sites.  

B. Legal Violations with No Consequences

- Under the National Environmental Act, violators face:  

  - Fines up to LKR 15,000(~$50)  

  - 2 years in prison  

- Yet, no arrests or prosecutions have occurred.  

C. Political Interference  

- Local politicians allegedly protect the monk and businesses, preventing legal action.  

4. Solutions: How to Save Nakolagane

A. Immediate Actions Needed 

1. Halt All Illegal Clearing – Enforce stop orders on deforestation.  

2. Investigate and Prosecute – Hold the monk and businessmen accountable.  

3. Restore Damaged Land – Replant trees and protect water sources.  

B. Long-Term Protection  

- Declare Nakolagane a "Forest-Elephant Management Reserve" – Legal protection under the Fauna and Flora Protection Ordinance.  

- Strengthen Monitoring – Use drones and satellite tracking to prevent illegal logging.  

- Community Involvement – Train locals in conservation and conflict mitigation.  

C. Policy Reforms  

- Stricter EIA Enforcement – No clearing without assessments.  

- ransparent Land Leasing– Prevent temple lands from being misused.  

Conclusion: A Race Against Time

Nakolagane’s destruction is not just an environmental issue—it’s a humanitarian crisis. Without urgent action:  

- Elephants will continue dying in clashes with humans.  

- Farmers will lose water and crops, worsening rural poverty.  

- Unique wildlife will vanish forever.  

The government must act now before Nakolagane becomes another tragic example of unchecked greed and environmental neglect.