An ode to Karachi

I miss home. I hurt. Not the debilitating mind-numbing kind. But the kind that makes me want to badger my Mom and Dad until they talk to me all the time. I don’t really understand how my parents can be this “thou shall be independent” type of people. I mean sending your daughter across oceans and continents would be considered blasphemy by most mullahs. Why can’t they just be the regular kind of parents, locking-me-in-my-room-and-throwing-away-the-key and/or marrying-me-off-at-a-young-age-and-still-keeping-an-eye-on-me-kinda-parents!? Who needs all this education!? No one. I should be at home, under my comforter, away from all this crazy extreme weather (where even in summers you have 5 C with windchill). No this is not ok. Argh okkkk okkkkk not going to be ungrateful anymore.

I miss home though. Seriously. I miss the energy. The chaos. The madness. The whole people-dying-left-and-right. Ok ok won’t go down the whole black humor road. But look at this place. Where else would I find books for under $0.20 cents!? Here!

         

I miss the food. I miss my workplace. I miss our lunches, where we would eat grease-drenched and completely unhygienic food (that makes anyone but the true Pakistani sick to their stomach). I miss my mom’s home cooked food. Her creative flare. Her genius.

I miss my friends.

And I miss these guys.

    

I left the biggest, most important pieces of myself behind. I can’t wait to go back in December and dive right back into who I was for a short while. Until then, let this city’s heart beat without me for a bit.

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