Sunday, December 14

Pakistan, Day Seventeen: Counting The Minutes

We planned on spending today at home, receiving all those who wished to bid us farewell. My poignancy was obscured by my homesickness, and I couldn't really hide my desire to go home. We exchanged well wishes and prayers for safe travel with promises to see each other again soon, hugged and kissed, and said multiple goodbyes in doorways. It was all so familiar and yet still difficult to get used to. The next time I see these guys they’ll be two to three years older, with some even having one or more kids in the meantime.

It was also a day of inevitabilities, the first being us having a power cut (our trip is now complete) and the second being the last minute packing that we really should have had sorted a while ago. And why the heck are we sleeping so late too?

I shouldn't have had that farewell fillet-o-fish and quarterpounder for dinner either. I hope I offload before taking off.


  1. The thing that strikes me the most about my visits to Pakistan is that I am always taken aback by the fact that my grandparents look older and weaker.
    It's just when I go back I realize cousins have moved on, are married or have had more kids, but selfishly enough I expect them to be the same age, as the last time I saw them.
    I guess, what I'm trying to say is that memory of Pakistan remains stagnant in my mind, because I am not the part of its mobility. I remember, I was shocked to see the McDonalds that opened up near the airport, because these "Western delicacies" are not a part of my parents' Pakistan, so it's shocking to see Pakistan's Westernization. Like being amazed by the fact that they have/get gay jokes.

  2. Zany,

    I know what you mean - I wrote about these "three year jumps" during the first leg of my trip (but you've expressed it much better).

    Life goes on, even if you're not around to witness it. Still, what with better phones and communication, things aren't as disconnected as they used to be.