Sri Lanka is an island of two languages, written in two of the world’s loveliest scripts, tied together by a third. Sinhala is the mother tongue of the Sinhalese majority; Tamil is spoken by the island’s Tamil and Muslim communities; and English, a legacy of British rule, still serves as the neutral bridge between them. For the visitor this is good news: you can travel the whole country in English, yet a few words of Sinhala or Tamil will earn you a warmth that no guidebook can buy.
Two official languages
Unusually, Sri Lanka has two official languages of equal standing. Sinhala is spoken as a first language by roughly three-quarters of the population, the Sinhalese, who live across the south, west and central hills. Tamil is the tongue of the Sri Lankan Tamils, concentrated in the north and east, and of the “Up-Country” Tamils whose ancestors were brought to work the tea estates; it is also the everyday language of most of the island’s Muslim community. Together, Tamil speakers make up around a quarter of the country.
That balance was hard-won. For decades after independence, language was one of the island’s deepest fault lines: the “Sinhala Only” policy of 1956 downgraded Tamil and helped sow the grievances that fed the civil war. It was only later, with Tamil made an official language and English confirmed as a link language in the constitutional amendments of 1987 and 1988. That the law recognised both communities equally. Today you will see all three languages side by side on banknotes, road signs and government forms, a small daily emblem of a country still knitting itself back together. To understand who speaks what, and why, read our guide to the people of Sri Lanka.

Sinhala: the island tongue
Sinhala (sometimes written Sinhalese) is spoken by about 16 million people and, remarkably, almost nowhere else on earth. It is an Indo-Aryan language, a distant relative of Hindi and, further back, of Sanskrit and even the languages of Europe, carried to the island more than two thousand years ago and then left to evolve in isolation. Cut off from its mainland cousins, it drank in words from Tamil, Portuguese, Dutch and English, and grew its own distinctive character. Its nearest living relative is Dhivehi, spoken across the water in the Maldives.
Its script is the first thing that enchants most visitors: a flowing run of loops and curls, rounded because it was once scratched onto palm leaves that would split under straight strokes. Technically it is an abugida, every consonant carries a built-in “a” vowel that is altered by adding marks above, below or beside the letter, and it descends, like Tamil, from the ancient Brahmi script of India. You will meet it everywhere, from temple inscriptions to bus destination boards, and even without reading a word of it, it is a pleasure to look at.
Tamil: an ancient classical language
Tamil belongs to an entirely different family, the Dravidian languages of southern India, and is one of the oldest continuously spoken languages in the world, with a literary tradition stretching back more than two millennia. Unlike Sinhala, it is spoken far beyond the island: by some 80 million people across the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, Singapore, Malaysia and a global diaspora. In Sri Lanka you’ll hear it most in the north and east, in Jaffna and Trincomalee, and in the tea-country towns of the central hills.
Tamil has its own graceful script, again an abugida from the Brahmi family but visibly distinct from Sinhala, a little more angular, with its own elegant rhythm. Sinhala and Tamil share almost no common origin, yet centuries of living side by side have passed words back and forth between them, and many Sri Lankans in mixed areas understand at least a little of both.
A traveller’s phrasebook
You need nothing more than English to get around, but a few words open hearts. The pronunciations below are rough English guides, with the stressed syllable in capitals. Sinhala is given first, Tamil second.
Greetings and courtesy
| English | Sinhala | Tamil |
|---|---|---|
| Hello / greetings | Ayubowan | Vanakkam |
| How are you? | Kohomada? | Eppadi irukkinga? |
| I’m fine | Hondai / Honda | Nallā irukken |
| Thank you | Istuti | Nandri |
| Yes / No | Ow / Naha | Ām / Illai |
| Please | Karunakara | Tayavu seydu |
| Sorry / excuse me | Samavenna | Mannikkavum |
| Goodbye | Ayubowan / Gihilla ennam | Poyttu varen |
Out and about
| English | Sinhala | Tamil |
|---|---|---|
| How much is it? | Keeyada? | Evvalavu? |
| Where is…? | …koheda? | …enga? |
| Water | Wathura | Thanni |
| Tea | The | Theneer |
| Delicious | Rasai | Rusi |
| Okay / good | Hari | Sari |
| No problem | Prashnayak naha | Prachanai illai |
The name behind the greeting
The word travellers remember is ayubowan. It is not a plain “hello”: it literally means “may you live long”, a blessing wrapped in a greeting, offered with the palms pressed together and a slight bow. You’ll hear it the moment you land, see it painted across hotel entrances, and feel how neatly it captures the island’s unhurried courtesy. Return it in kind and you’ll be met with a beaming smile every time.
A handful of everyday words also carry the island’s history in them. Sinhala kept kamisaya (shirt) and mesaya (table) from the Portuguese, kokis (a crisp sweet) from the Dutch, and countless terms from English. Place names tell their own story too: the Sinhala -pura (“city”, as in Anuradhapura) and -gama (“village”) dot the map of the south, while Tamil names cluster across the north and east, a geography you can almost read in the signposts.
English, and getting by
English arrived with the British and never quite left. It is the island’s link language, the neutral ground on which Sinhala and Tamil speakers meet, and it remains the language of the courts, much of higher education, and a good deal of business. Roughly one in four Sri Lankans speaks it with some fluency, and in the places travellers go, Colombo, the hotels and guesthouses, the beaches and national parks, among drivers, guides and younger people. You will rarely struggle.
Sri Lankan English has its own gentle flavour, with words and turns of phrase you won’t hear elsewhere. Someone may tell you a thing is “paining” rather than painful, invite you for a “short eat” (a savoury snack), or use “no?” at the end of a sentence the way others say “isn’t it?”. It is charming, clear and easy to follow.
Travel the island in English and you’ll be perfectly understood. But open with ayubowan, close with istuti, and try a shy kohomada? along the way, and something shifts: you stop being just another tourist and become a guest who cared enough to try. In a country as generous as this one, that little effort is repaid many times over. To go deeper into the culture behind the words, read about the people and religions of Sri Lanka.