it’s thursday night again, and i have been working like someone possessed, no, OBSESSED with making money. but to be fair, i do enjoy my work. i’ve been told, rather condescendingly, that i only do what i like, as if it’s a character flaw.

‘it’s because you can live that way,’ someone close to me said just yesterday. ‘you were never in a position where you were forced to do something you hated for work.’

like THAT builds character.

‘i’ve done stuff that just about killed me,’ i told them. ‘i’ve been humiliated in public as a result, at least twice as a child, too often as an adult. have you ever worked in the government?’

‘oh, the government! you only worked for what, a year?’ they respond.

‘it was four actually,’ i said. ‘i was just getting the hang of writing in official dhivehi in the early days. and almost every day my superior would humiliate me, publicly asking me if i’d passed the SSC. in front of the minister who’d chortle!’

‘chortle?’ they seemed surprised.

‘you know, chuckle and snort.’

‘hmm. shouldn’t that be chort?’

‘oh boy.’

‘but you’re coasting through life now.’

‘is that MY fault?’

is it? i mean, come on – specialisation!

also, let it be known that me and my erstwhile boss are on excellent terms. plus, all that shame really made me progress in and appreciate my mother tongue. that sounds a bit gross tho. but not nearly as gross as sudhdhaanu. look it up. i’m surprised pest hasn’t used it. or maybe he has. anyhow, i’ll write a dhivehi review one of these days. that’ll show them.

back to the present. i call up my friends but they’re too busy and/or broke to go to for dinner.

‘but it’s sri lankan, and the best in town,’ i tell them yet they aren’t too eager.

so, i go by myself as i must, for the buffet is damn fine company.

to my horror, the sri lankan buffet is no more!

‘what the hell wicum,’ i scream at the head chef. ‘how did this happen?’

‘i told you, no? sri lankan just for october. now for november it’s middle eastern buffet every thursday.’ replies wicum, grinning.

dear GOD!

i am overcome by hunger so i sample some of the palestini rice, chickpea casserole and potatoes, mulling over the fallibility of memory. the buffet isn’t bad, but it has absolutely NOTHING on the sri lankan fare.

and by god, my earlier assumption was stupendously wrong.

it makes me think on the nature of our beliefs about the world. moosaalhu thinks it’s flat, for example. and whether that’s true or not, that belief too has some kind of existence. it must exist – otherwise, for one, it cannot be communicated.

maybe everything we think of or imagine or hallucinate, every one of these things exists. it does not matter whether they require a mind for their existence or whether they can exist independently in the world – these are just modes of existence. after all, ideas and objects of the mind are also part of the world, they have to be. what would it mean to say they are not? what the HELL would it MEAN? 

   ‘machan! what’s wrong? are you crying? food no good?’

ganesh! and was i really CRYING?

‘i’m alright ganesh,’ i mumble. ‘i just miss the sri lankan buffet.’

‘if you like it so much come to my house, my wife is super excellent cook,’ says ganesh kindly.

‘say no more!’ i jump out of my chair.

‘no machan, i’m not even married.’ laughs ganesh, crumpling my dreams like a soiled napkin and leaving me to find comfort in the fact that a homecooked sri lankan dinner at ganesh’s had at least a fleeting existence in both our minds.