Rahuft stands behind his cart, chatting and laughing as he dishes up another plate of isso vadai (fried lentil patties topped with prawns). Soon it will be dark and in a few hours’ time, around midnight, Rahuft will pack away his stall and push his cart back home, past the empty restaurants, glitzy nightclubs and sleeping skyscrapers. Then go up to his tiny room, hang his shirt on a rope strung to the wall, and move woks, trays and bottles of oil to one side to clear a space to sleep.
Rahuft is one of many food vendors down at Galle Face Green, a long stretch of grass and promenade that faces the Indian Ocean. Coming from a family of twelve, he is completely unfazed by the hordes of people who pour in at sunset to enjoy the open space. Working alongside his uncle Rasheed in the family business seven days a week, Rahuft doesn’t get much time to do the things most young men do, but on a night like tonight when people are queuing up at his stall waving 50 rupee notes in their hands, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
