Taprobane is what the Greeks and Romans called Sri Lanka. Ptolemy drew it on his map of the world around 150 CE, and the name is thought to come from the Sanskrit Tamraparni — the copper-coloured shore. We shortened it to Taprovan, so it would be easy to say and hard to forget.
Sri Lankan families in America are spread thin — a few in every state, rarely close to the handful of shops that stock the brands they grew up with. A packet of Maliban or a bottle of Siddhalepa balm has meant a long drive, a favour from someone flying home, or simply going without.
The three of us — Deyan, Chaminda and Sampath — come from administration, trading, technology and e-commerce, and we could see this category had been left behind online: good products, sold badly. Ordering food from home should feel like the best thing you buy on the internet, not the worst. So we built the store we wanted to shop in. Real stock in a real warehouse, counted honestly, packed in Bohemia, New York, and shipped anywhere in the country.
Our first order went to Tenafly, New Jersey: a dozen cans of Elephant House ginger beer and cream soda, seven boxes of Ceylon tea, and a jar of Muthu Samba rice.
Because the aim was never only convenience. It is the small jolt of recognition when a familiar wrapper arrives at your door — the tea from home, the biscuits from after school. That is the part worth shipping.
We started with Sri Lanka, because it is what we know best. The rest of South Asia is next.
