Hikka Love

my favourite place in hikka: the roti shop

Mango Sunquick

I open the door to Nanna's bedroom and absorb in the musty but calming smell coupled with the familiar darkness and messy pile of clothes on the bed. It feels great to be back.

Walking in the wide hallway with its slightly cracked beige walls, I quickly make a mental note to jump on the couch when no adults are around. Perhaps beckon my sister and cousins to do the same. I can almost hear Maimoonah Datha saying "What if Nanna or Haffsa Aunty catches us jumping on the couch? We'll be in trouble then and we can't play hopscotch in the evening..."

But we do so anyway and jump off the couch when we hear footsteps coming from the kitchen towards the hallway. Phew! A second longer and we would've been caught.

Later in the afternoon, we sit on the floor and relish the melting chocolate ice cream in identical brightly coloured plastic dessert bowls that Haffsa Aunty has laid out just for us. Begging for another scoop of ice cream, we laugh aloud remembering the postman in the morning whom we had tried to pair up with Nanna. Knowing that our Nanna had been a widow for a long time now, we almost always tried to pair her up with any gentleman we thought suitable in our childish immature minds.

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Tired and sweaty after several games of run-and-catchers, hopscotch and Blind Man's Buff, I shower and eat dinner while watching Sinhala teledramas with my aunt, Mom and Nanna. I know that Mama watches these television programmes with great delight as she is confined to just Oprah and Santa Barbara back home in Bangladesh.

As I lay in bed next to Nanna a couple hours later as is tradition every night when I'm on vacation here, I picture everything I did for the whole day with a smile on my ten year-old face. The aroma of Nanna's spicy cooking wafting in from the kitchen. The very kitchen to which we retreated to whenever we craved mango Sunquick, cream crackers with strawberry jam, achcharu made with ripe mangoes from the tree in the garden or Newdale strawberry yoghurt. And soon I drift off to sleep.

I quietly wake up at dawn to the sounds of Mama taking ablution in the bathroom, preparing herself to do her morning prayers. I look out the window and watch the fierce shade of violet in the sky and listen intently to the delicate chirps of birds outside. I smile to myself and feel a tingle go up my spine. It truly did feel great to be back!



This note is dedicated to all my dearest cousins and sister who played a gigantic role in my colourful childhood vacations to Sri Lanka which I always render as the best times in my life. As always, good things come to an end and the cousins hardly have any time to spend in the garden now because we are equipped with school, work, marriage, children and running a household. But we never forget what our childhood was based upon; with water balloons at every birthday with purple cakes and Elephant House Cream Soda.

Lipstick stain

Can you see my lipstick stain?

Bright red and scandalous. It spells my danger.
Can you see my lipstick stain? Right on a tissue with its curves and colour.

What I've come to realize

Skies will be grey and leaves will wither.

Hands on the clock will tick away unknowingly.

People will come and go, not noticing your despair.