Waking up one humid morning in Colombo, ten months ago, I couldn’t believe I had come this far in pursuit of an audacious dream. Chasing the romance of a life lived constantly on the move, my husband and I had volunteered to sever links – at least temporarily – with Mumbai, the city we had called home for several years, to move to Sri Lanka. I felt daunted and rudderless – our life, once so well-defined, suddenly seemed like putty in our hands. It was a heavy existential soup to be swimming in – but breakfast got in the way.
