While my mother was gone to buy groceries, I took it upon myself to tidy the kitchen. The boxes of coconut milk and milk powder in distant corners of the pantry, green tea opposite the noodles, pastas along with the bottles of flour and a half-empty bag of pasta from last month (which did not deserve my scorn).

I refilled the bottles of chickpeas, washed the empty bottles of basil and pepper and left them to dry, restocked atta flour, and found a jar for my father’s MSG. I had forgotten how much I enjoy mundane housekeeping tasks. My thoughts stopped racing each other. I was indulging in the sound of chickpeas falling into glass and the smell of coffee.

A perfect Sunday often felt like a burden. How careful should I be not to cross any anxious thoughts? But today, for some reason, it felt a lot easier. Maybe the space you were looking for finds you among the things you’ve been putting off. Maybe what you’re looking for is actually waiting for you to discover it among the clutter.

“Are you fine with bread for dinner?”
"No, I will bake buns”
I heard myself say.

So, I proceeded to make the dough. There was trouble with the yeast. Today I learned that expired yeast still works fine after a few months. The dough turned out soft. I used last week’s sausages and lots of onions to make the filling. My grandma was lingering, peeping into my workspace, half-worried, half-curious if I had left her out of dinner. So, I made her buns with only vegetables.

Suddenly, the pain of heartbreak that belongs to someone else fills me. It’s a feeling that’s hard to put into words. It’s not empathy; it’s coming from within. It’s not an entity separate from me. We are one. My heart breaks along with his, and again for him. This feeling is beyond mortal. It’s here, I can feel it in my palms, where my soul is. If I could take this pain away, I would, in less than a heartbeat.

The evening run was challenging. Running 3 kilometres at a stretch is new to me. So are other things. I suppose that’s what all of this is about. Running from and running into.

Hi. I’m Lihini.

I’m trying to be a writer again. I love collecting things, so I decided to make lists of the things I find - stories, recipes, quotes, thoughts and prayers.

These days, I am reading Jam Fruit Tree by Carl Muller, and I think we all can learn a thing or two from Maudiegirl’s Golden Rules.

1. Without cleanliness and punctuality, good cooking is impossible

2. Leave nothing dirty. Clean and clear as you go.

3. A time for everything and everything in time

4. A good cook wastes nothing

5. An hour lost in the morning has to be run after all day

6. Haste without hurry saves worry, fuss and flurry

7. Stew boiled is stew spoiled

8. Strong fire for roasting, clear fire for broiling

9. Wash vegetables in three waters

10. Boil fish quickly, meat slowly

August was a month of trials and tribulations, and I find myself in The Waiting Place. Till I am on my way (soon), Maudiegirl’s rule No.3 keeps me company. It’s funny how a mother, even fictional, can bring comfort when you need it.

A few weeks ago, a tuk driver dropped me off at work. I didn’t have change so he was at a loss of a few rupees. I apologied. He smiled and said something that struck with me.

“If you think you have enough, you have enough.”

If you want quirky handmade pottery, check out The Clay Tale. She makes the cutest little trinkets from mugs, saucers, spoons and jewellery. I found her during a visit to The Good Market. Hasanga doesn’t believe in perfection and finds authenticity to bring her so much happiness than neat lines ever could.

Her work is super cute and when I think of my dream home, this is the imperfectness I often dream about. Imperfectness makes space for life.

During the past month, I’ve been angry, jealous and a lot of other unpleasant things. Today, I found myself under the bed with my dog, after a while. She licked me and looked at me with eyes full of love, and it healed a part within me I didn’t want to visit. I kept thinking, how can she love me, even when I have ugly thoughts, and how do I love her, even with all the ugliness inside me. If anything, I leave you with this: I hope you find something in life that reminds you of how capable you are of loving. A pet, a plant or even something that doesn’t exist for others.