it’s about midday when thakuru and i walk up to comfood’s counter. the iced coffee is 45 rufiyaa and i’ve had it before. it’s not bad at all and reminds me a little of the birthday parties we used to have as kids. back when they thought giving coffee to children was ok.

‘want to go to raalhugandu?’ asks thakuru.

it’s a day after eid and the spot is barren. a few surfers brave the waves in the distance but the joalis are empty. the overall mood is one of mellowness.

‘afunge male,’ i say.

‘you bet.’ says thakuru.

‘it’s just…everything is very compressed so you get a totally different vibe very quickly. like you cross the ring road and here we are, watching the surf. it’s impossible in a bigger city. everybody complains about male’ but it’s actually pretty cool.’

‘how’s your coffee?’

‘it’s alright.’

the waves break and spray salt into the air. leaden clouds crowd the sky and the wind carries a touch of rain. wisftfulness perforates my thoughts while the coffee softens the sting.

‘it’s like any other big city though, everybody whines about the crowdedness, the congestion,’ says thakuru.

‘yeah, it’s in great form for eid.’

‘maybe people in new york think how good thanksgiving is because it sends all the bumpkins back to their villages.’

‘yeah, maybe.’

we watch the surfers in silence.

‘do you feel that boredom is fundamental?’ asks thakuru.

‘what do you mean?’

‘do you think that’s the bedrock of our lives?’

‘it’s certainly a great motivator.’ i say after some thought.

‘but what do you get at the end?’ thakuru says.

‘more likes on instagram hopefully.’

‘is it ever enough?’

‘it’s enough for now,’ i say.

‘don’t you think you need a stronger basis to go on?’

‘i think immersion justifies everything.’

‘are you immersed?’

‘hmm.’

a couple cries out when a wave slaps the seawall, nearly drenching them.

‘something’s missin’!’ mutters thakuru