I got off at the junction. Waving my friends goodbye as they blended into the afternoon traffic i realized i still had much to walk. Taking a trishaw would be easier. But i decided i needed the walk. Also my purse was a little tight. I crossed the road and made my way along the pavement. Its small sidewalk was lined with more shops than most malls selling everything imaginable.
I passed sections that sold knives, daggers and a rat poison branded “One shot”. Probably after the famous Sri Lankan movie. Next to the chap selling the arsenal and the poison was the man who sold rat traps. The more cunning method of capturing the rodent. A means of saying if the chasing around with knives and poison didn’t work. Come to my store.
I paused at a bag shop. Bags of different sizes, shapes, brands and abbreviations of actual brands lined the store from top to bottom. I needed a bag badly. I looked down at what now carried my books. A large ‘House of Fashion’ bag that originally carried a clock and curtains. I sighed. It was sad that my old bag tore. Its travelled where ever i travelled and it was a gift from thaw.
I moved on passing milk bars and snack bars. Serving all of Sri Lanka’s delightful short eats such as egg rolls and seeni sambol buns. My stomach growled notifying me of my hunger. I took no notice. It would be satisfied soon.
I was now in the shaded fruit section and almost half way done of my journey to the next junction. The aromas calmed me and mentally fed my stomach. The fresh smells of apples, papayas, grapes, mangoes and ambarella were welcomed by my nose to swim up to the endless void that is known as my mind. Only the smell of wood apple wasn’t allowed as it displeased the mind and shook the other organs in disgust.
I saw something that made my mouth water. Acharu. No matter what, or how hungry Iam i cannot resist acharu. By principal i do not eat cooked fruit as i prefer them to be eaten at the state Gaya gives us to them. Cooking a mango is as much as cooking a fetus. Makes you think doesn’t it? The spices of an acharu; how it is all mixed and blended and if made right will not over power each other but work together to leave the eater hungry for more.
Swallowing my spit i moved on. I came by the clothes section of the pavement mall. Like the bags the clothes also hung from top to bottom in various brands and sizes. The designs and colours did not appeal to me so i continued on except for a few glances at vivid coloured t shirts.
I finally reached my destination. The trishaws i required were on the other side of the road. The major construction the road was undergoing polluted the air and disturbed the ear drums. I didnt pay any attention. What has to be done has to be done.
Soon after reaching home and plopping on the bed. I realized how that ten minute walk held so much knowledge and emotions. It scared me at how the world would be then and how much it held.
I decided. I should walk more often. Maybe ill discover something strange and new in a pavement in the country of Sri Lanka