July'14FFR

Containing skin cooling air conditioning.

With drying throats and parched skin Circulatory air spins around arm hairs Sensationally reprieving the sweat.

We purchase one bottle of water At five rufiyaa, we relax.

However, eve’s dropping on The conversation of a shop assistant We come to notice how little Of the local tongue we have learned English words dropped in Like coins in a piggy bank, but Used sparingly and infrequently.

Nevertheless, the waitress’ transition Between Dvehi and English was effortless Like the mating of swans.

Moving through the fish market The hubbub of activity cascaded In fixating our eyes on tuna The size of a human baby Its fattened mouth hooked fast From the corrugated iron roof Tiddlers the size of coins, Wrestling to jump over one another In a watering can come bucket A sailfish’s lumpy head Slammed down on the metal counter Being relieved of its outer body Slashed by a machete blade Into sizeable and resellable chunks.

The night market was enriched By the blasting cacophony Of 90s style British pop, Unseen boom-boxes pumping Out splurges of cringe-worthy sounds Like ants the locals purchase numerous Brooms, goldfish in transparent bags, Multi-coloured chicks (used as curiosities, disposable and dispensable balls of fluff) and other pointless paraphernalia.

As we trundle back to our box sized Hotel room, the welcoming stench of Unclean water enters our nostrils and Our consciousnesses accept the