nami at riveli feels quiet and charming as i wait for samfa, nadheemadhi, and abdurrahman, sitting on a fancy cane backed chair. it is six thirty, and the three staff shoot me a glance from time to time. a fusion of japanese classical music and hip-hop sound over the speakers, setting the mood.

finally the girls arrive.

‘where’s abdu?’ asks samfa.

‘i dunno. can you call him?’

‘you’re the organiser,’ says nadheemadhi. ‘you call him.’

so i do and turns out i hadn’t told him a time. luckily he’s in phase one and about to drop his mother off home.

‘you didn’t give him a time did you?’ asks nadhee. i smile and shrug.

‘have you looked at the menu?’ i ask nadheemadhi.

‘twice before coming here,’ she says grinning.

we order the sashimi platter, tuna, and salmon with avocado maki, rainbow maki, the beef yakisoba for sharing, and drinks. abdurrahman will have to make do with these.

he arrives soon and settles down after ordering a drink. he regales us with tales and beautiful pics from his recent trip. to be among that and to come home to this.

the drinks are first to arrive.

‘this tastes like a mojito you’d get from a kanmathee kada,’ says abdu about his yuzu drink.

samfa meanwhile cannot drink hers, and i am not really enjoying mine either, it tastes too strongly of lime, which suffocates every other flavour.

i take a moment to listen in on the conversation. samfa and nadhee are talking about the vape ban.

‘it’s because of the cigarette lobby,’ says nadhee.

‘the what?’ i ask.

‘they’re gonna get punched in the face cos we’re not going back to cigarettes,’ replies nadhee ignoring me. she considers herself a member of the vaping community, that much is clear. and going by her tone, she looks down on the cigarette smoking community. way down.

‘just how much is a cigarette now anyway?’ asks samfa. ‘ten rufiyaa?’

‘fourteen,’ replies nadheemadhi and samfa shakes her head.

‘it’s worse than a drug habit,’ she says.

‘they’re gonna arrest vapers and leave the druggies alone, that’s how fucked up it is,’ says nadhee, swirling her drink with a spoon the server has brought.

‘living here has become ridiculous,’ says samfa.

that’s a samfa word, ridiculous. she pronounces it ri-DICU-lous.

the sashimi arrives and it is magnificent. the white fish especially, fresh and luscious and flavourful. the tuna isn’t bad either. nadhee doesn’t care too much for the salmon, pointing out a thread of dark flesh. 

‘not sashimi grade salmon,’ she says but to me it’s great – sweet and creamy.

the sushi is, as the kids say, mid. the rice isn’t the best, and the rolls frequently fall apart. that said, they are hefty, so if you’re hungry they’ll fill you up.

the noodles meanwhile is excellent but the meat could have been more tender.

‘not to sound too pedantic but it’s rice noodles, so not technically yakisoba,’ says abdu.

‘whatever,’ says nadhee. ‘it’s delicious.’

by the end, there is barely any will in me to eat more but the girls want dessert. we order a sesame tart with yuzu lemon cream and strawberry mochi ice cream.

the tart isn’t one to write home about, its base is hard and bland though the cream on top is nice enough. but not enough to salvage this dish.

as for the ice cream mochi:

‘it slaps,’ says abdurrahman.

‘top tier,’ says nadheemadhi.

‘are you noting this down?’ asks samfa and i nod.

at the end of it, we confront a bill of 522MVR each.

‘we could’ve gone to fong BBQ,’ says samfa. ‘this is MUCH too expensive for mediocre food.’

i, however, am in good spirits as we leave. perhaps because there is a full moon and such nights bring out the best in me. or is it the beast?

as we stand by the beach taking pics of our sleepy satellite, i get a text.

‘oh, it’s from nami,’ i tell samfa.

‘who’s nami?’ she asks and abdu laughs uncontrollably.