by Durga
This is shameless to the core. They have been bamboozled properly in homes; parents seem to have avoided guiding them. These boys must be taken away, given rest, and sent to some forest for meditation to find themselves. They need to move away from desires that lead to sexual misconduct. These sick individuals have destroyed the reputation of Sri Lankan cricket. They don’t just fail at cricket—they fail at life, at morality, at basic decency. The latest debacles surrounding Chamika Karunaratne, Danushka Gunathilaka, and the ever-expanding list of reckless cricketers show an alarming pattern: these men are untethered, undisciplined, and unfit for public life.
The only thing that Sri Lankan cricketers cannot play is cricket. That is what the public whispers and shouts. People don’t understand what’s going on in these players’ minds. Some claim these devils are a bunch who wear haatpola, bathe, undress, and transform into unrestrained, mischievous beings. Their conduct is grotesque. Sri Lankan cricketers should either be rehabilitated or given six to seven months off, enrolled in intensive sex education programs, and perhaps caged alongside animals like chimpanzees or hippos to learn basic behavioral norms. Otherwise, they seem incapable of existing in human society.
Yes, cricketers worldwide indulge, party, and live freely. But what sets Sri Lanka apart is their catastrophic lack of discipline. Where others play cricket as a career, our cricketers misbehave after seeing a white woman in a nightclub or Instagram post. They fail to focus, forget their profession, and fall into addiction to lust and public attention. Jewelry thefts, police arrests, and court cases follow them like shadows. Bhanuka Rajapaksa, whose alleged antics sparked rumors, is not an isolated case; he is the symptom of a systemic rot. Our cricketers are helpless slaves to desire, with zero regard for reputation, career, or the law.
Actresses and young women in Sri Lanka have become collateral damage in this chaotic mess. They arrive for shoots, modest or revealing, only to be stalked, harassed, and exploited by men in uniforms meant to represent the nation on the field. This is not one or two rogue incidents—it is an epidemic of sexual misconduct. Chamika Karunaratne, now embroiled in a paternity case, refuses DNA testing, denying responsibility while the courts try to sort truth from allegation. Whether the claim is true or false, the pattern is damning. When a man cannot maintain basic self-control, the country cannot trust him to wield a bat or wear the national jersey.
Danushka Gunathilaka is another tragic example of wasted potential. Once a promising cricketer, he succumbed to lust-driven chaos abroad, forgetting who he was, ignoring his responsibilities, and ending up in court. The courts, the media, and public outrage tell the story of a man destroyed by himself. Gunathilaka is a cautionary tale: talent means nothing when mental health, discipline, and moral guidance are absent. There are whispers of other doctors, officials, and mentors enabling such behavior in the past. Whether these allegations are true or not, the fact remains: Sri Lankan cricket produces men incapable of restraint, judgment, or accountability.
The nightlife culture is toxic. Clubs, drinking, dancing with actresses on laps, sleepless nights, and drugs have become normalized. These men cannot play cricket, cannot act responsibly, and cannot maintain basic decorum. Cars are stolen, clothing is discarded, tempers flare, and public spectacles follow. Some have been dragged into international court cases, embarrassing the nation and shattering public trust. If our cricketers cannot exist as adults, if they cannot adhere to laws and ethics, perhaps they should be relegated to a secondary league, a playground for unruly adults, so the world sees the distinction between talent and chaos.
Meanwhile, actresses who are targeted by these men are equally victimized by a culture that normalizes objectification. Like Kumara Thirimadura warned, women should not be pressured to act as puppets or expose themselves to harassment for fame. Their dignity, safety, and privacy must be protected. Beauty and talent deserve care, not exploitation by men who cannot control their basest instincts. These cricketers are destroying lives beyond the cricket pitch, and the nation must recognize the cost of neglecting discipline and moral education.
Look at international counterparts like Virat Kohli and Anushka Sharma. Their relationships, while under public scrutiny, remain respectful, genuine, and private. They maintain dignity in personal and professional life simultaneously. Compare this to Sri Lankan cricketers whose marriages, careers, and social standing are undermined by lust, recklessness, and utter irresponsibility. Where discipline, education, and moral guidance fail, chaos thrives. Our cricketers lack the intellectual and emotional capacity to navigate basic adult responsibilities.
This is not just about failing at cricket; it is about failing humanity. When these men walk the streets, the gaze of the public is no longer admiration—it is skepticism, pity, and outrage. They flaunt their privilege, destroy reputations, and display desires that should be contained, taught, and moderated. God has given humans needs, desires, and love, but these cricketers cannot channel or respect them. Instead, they exploit, assault, and humiliate. They are a threat to the profession, the nation, and themselves.
Sex education, meditation, and psychological treatment are not luxuries—they are necessities. Parents who have neglected guidance, schools that failed moral education, and the cricketing system that rewards talent without accountability have created monsters. These men must be extracted from society temporarily, taught self-discipline, taught respect for women, taught boundaries, and taught emotional intelligence. Until then, their involvement in cricket brings shame to the nation.
The cases of Gunathilaka, Karunaratne, and others are symptoms of a failed system. There is no excuse for men in their late twenties and early thirties to behave as adolescents with no moral compass. They squander talent, waste public funds, and turn stadiums into arenas of embarrassment rather than pride. These are not isolated incidents—they are a culture of entitlement and indulgence that has metastasized within Sri Lankan cricket.
If cricketers cannot play cricket, they should be playing some other game—one designed for immature, reckless adults, away from public view, where the stakes are not the nation’s honor. If actors cannot act responsibly, they should avoid environments that expose them to harassment or exploitation. The responsibility is mutual, but the primary accountability lies with the men who cannot restrain themselves.
We love cricket. We admire actors. But the current crop of Sri Lankan cricketers is a disgrace. They tarnish the sport, humiliate themselves, and endanger women. Until the system implements strict sex education, psychological treatment, and moral rehabilitation, the nation cannot trust them with fame, money, or influence. If you cannot live as a civilized adult, the nation cannot permit you to exist as a professional athlete. Simple as that.
Until proper measures are taken, until cricketers are taught restraint, ethics, and empathy, Sri Lankan cricket will remain a national embarrassment, a breeding ground for scandal, shame, and international ridicule. The responsibility lies not only with the players but with the parents, coaches, and administrators who failed to guide them. Let these men learn who they are before they touch a bat again. Until then, the pitch is not their domain; it is the graveyard of their wasted potential.
