She is just one of the millions of Sri Lankans battling a calamitous decline in living standards, as they find themselves forced to skip meals, ration out medicines and turn to firewood in place of cooking gas.
"We had an alms giving a session on the 25th of last month. That day (was the last occasion) we had a good meal (with meat)," Gunasekera said, grasping the shards of fish.
Hit hard by the COVID-19 pandemic, rising oil prices and economic mismanagement under previous governments, the island nation is in the throes of its starkest crisis since independence from Britain in 1948.
Rampant inflation, snaking fuel queues and shortages of essentials such as food and medicine have driven many Sri Lankans into poverty, while months of street protests ousted the previous president, Gotabaya Rajapaksa, in July.
More than a quarter of the population of 22 million is now struggling to secure adequate, nutritious food, the United Nations says.
Exacerbating the situation, thieves broke into Gunasekera's home a few months ago, stealing the cooker and gas cylinder. Her family couldn't afford a new one. "We cook with firewood now," she said.
Her biggest concern though is the education of her children. The crisis has left her family unable to even afford exercise books, and her husband has to rely on the charity of employers for money to buy them, she added.
Nearby, at a food kiosk, 42-year-old Chandra Thushari Peiris's palms are holding up crockery she just washed in the afternoon. They were covered in dust and cobwebs after months of disuse, following the closure of her business.
Peiris never worried about food previously, as her family would finish leftovers they couldn't sell. However, with inflation driving the prices of raw materials like oil and sugar up, people were left with little disposable income to indulge in treats like rolls and roti from their kiosks.
That in essence shuttered the business, and in turn, their income dried up. Peiris said she and her husband, an autorickshaw driver who has also lost his income, are determined to not let their children starve, but they are missing out on meals themselves as a result.
"Today, we decided that we should reopen this shop. My daughter is also at home, without a job. If we do something we will earn some money. We have been just waiting for something but nothing has happened," said Peiris.
As dusk approaches, 58-year-old road sweeper W. M. Irangani's palms cradle a lit coconut oil lamp in a small, cramped room that she shares with her two unemployed sisters and son.
She places the lamp before a small figurine of Buddha, clasps her hands together and mutters a prayer.
Irangani had spent the morning working on an empty stomach. She has to work, otherwise, she would risk losing her job, given the number of unemployed people ready to fill her position.
She had a portion of rice when she returned, with that being her only sustenance for the day. She has no plans for dinner.
"We only have a little sugar, no other food. If we borrow money from someone we have to pay it. I am scared to borrow because I have no way of paying it back."
Irangani heads out to collect petals used as religious offerings, telling Reuters she had simply prayed earlier for a better future, one where her family would have enough food to eat.
As desperation grows, the government of President Ranil Wickremesinghe is seeking a multi-billion-dollar bailout in talks with the International Monetary Fund and is tapping major allies, from India and Japan to the United States.
But major financial assistance is still months away, making tough austerity measures likely, so few Sri Lankans are expecting to see the light at the end of the tunnel soon.