countdown.

There's one thing this city doesn't let you do. It never allows you to forget. It's difficult, in fact nearly impossible, to block Karachi out. You can try, and I know those who have, but even in people's best efforts to let it go, Karachi holds on with a persistent grip that shows no signs of weakening. Not always good things, these imprints  belonging to a sprawling city by the Arabian Sea. There's the simple fact of lost lives turned into stats that increase day by day, almost challenging you to dare and do something about it. But you can't, and for that you can hate the city. And then there is the balmy summer night breeze- barely there, except in one or two gentle waves that wash over you and then disappear like they never were. Can't forget that either, but that's one of the beautiful things about here. I'm trying to memorize this place so that when I close my eyes in the middle of a winter I find impossible to comprehend, I can recreate this. Soon I'm going to leave again and home is going to turn into an idea that exists, carefully preserved, in corners far away from the mundane and the everyday. A thought to be drawn upon every once in a while, and hidden quickly before it dries out and shrivels up.
But it never does. That's why it's home.