by Dethu

I’ve been feeding people since I’ve been getting a steady income now. Every little amount counts. From selling small artworks to big artworks etc. and people have been donating for me to harass p*lice.

Today I’ve been asked to go eat for the first time in a while by my good friend husenfulhu. He looks like Santa Claus on acid. Jolly fella.

“Where we going?” I ask him. “Let’s go k cafe” he says. We walked from henveyru to maafannu in ten minutes. Husenfulhu can walk at my pace. Could have been eight minutes but he’s old so it’s fine.

“Have the prices changed?” I ask, “no it’s still the same” he says, “huh, hanguraamaige asaru nukure dho” I say.

“Hmm,” he says as we walk.

We finally get there, there were two mullah looking fellows, seven empty tables, four waiters, buffet set up, fancy napkins, ugly wallpaper. We sat at the table by the window in the corner.

“I’ll have rice and curry, chicken” husenfulhu belts in a rush, “I’ll have the same” I said gently. He said he was hungry while we were walking, said he forgot to eat last night. What a luxury it is to forget to eat.

We wait for the food. Husenfulhu keeps pestering me with questions. These fucking writers can’t keep their mouths shut unless they are writing. They are wimps too. Hiding behind a internet personality. Husenfulhu wanted to play a song he listened to recently but he was scared that the mullahs sitting across us from the other end will hear it.

Why self censor. When we can’t hide in this day and age. I probably won’t get a normal job now and I’m fine with that. I’ll hustle. But I’ll be Raw.

He played a different song when the mullahs left. “Let’s play the song now, there’s no else but us” husenfulhu says while grinning. His eyes look possessed.

He played a dhivehi song which he made at least so I let him be. He creates while others hide. He creates while hiding, lurking in the narrow streets of maafannu.

The food arrives as the best part of the song comes on. It was heavenly.

There was mugu riha and I didn’t even realise. I ate without knowing and I liked the taste. I haven’t eaten mugu riha since a good while back. I’ve gotten old as well, husenfulhu.

My father one night forced me to eat mugu riha for some reason. I’ve been anti mugu riha ever since.

“Where’s the chicken?” I ask husenfulhu.

“They will bring it separately,” he says while chugging the rice, curry, dhal, satani and chicken.

“Haadha avahah thi kany,” I say.

“Aan varah bandu haivefa ey,” he says while still chugging the satani mixed with a bit of curry and huge chunk of rice.

“Avahah keyas bandeh nufureyne” I say,

“Hmm,” he says as he keeps on chugging.

He slows down after a minute. And people call me slow. Anyways we finished eating paid 190 and bounced. “Let’s get a coffee,” says husenfulhu and we head to the next golhi up above k cafe. To cafe Moka, run by this fellow called Haseena oa. He mentioned this while we were eating but I tuned him out egadyga.

Ordered espresso Tonic. He took Thai ice tea as usual. This place has the best Espresso Tonic in male’. Shout out cafe Moka. Egan badeeu ge artworks alhuvaafa huree mithaaga. I thought it was someone else’s painting at first.

Then, I fist bumped Mutti of Violet Addiction and bounced off back to henveyru and galholhu where the land is bigger and people are more civilised.