So me and B went shopping lastnight, quite ironically my escapade from the 'rich and famous' lifestyle- latenights and mundane gossips, not that we would wax lyrical out on the bazaar streets, just an outlet away from relatives that are so patronizingly omnipresent. As she ruffled through the hangers at Maria B, Sobia Zuha, Outfitters and finally Fnkasia, the karachite in me reminisced the life out there.
Here we were, browsing through clothes and things nonchalantly and it gave me a sudden rush for the place i missed for just so many things, all the same.
The Samunder Ki Hawaa.
Sunday Bazaar.
Clifton Beach. French Beach. Any Beach.
The Insane Traffic.
The 'Karachite' Friends.
The Rickety Bus/ Point Rides.
The Clammy Feel to the City.
Area 51 for bowling and fries.
Boat Basin for books, music and ultimately food- with cats.
The Coffee Places [ Espresso, Costa Coffee, Caffeine, Purple Haze, Zouk, Basement ]
Creek Club.Golf Club.Gym Khana.
Frere Hall weekly on Sundays for book bazaars.
Eaton for delectable roll parathas.
Khadda Market for Hot 'n Spicy and tish tosh shop outlets.
Zamzama and Zainab Market.
Dr. Nargis's Soul Spa for Meditations and the like.
Reader's Club at Clifton.
Kara Film Festival.
Fareede's for out-of-the-box conversations, hair and tea/coffee.
The Urdu Speaker's Accent and the infamous jargon.
Post midnight, high voltage weddings.
Sharah-e-Faisal, many a learner's road accidents and 'reppercussions'.
And so much more.
A little something to discover each day, the endless and oft confusing Defence Phases, variety of sorts in people and things and places, remote outskirts, the outstretched arms the city embraces you with and the everyday lessons you could not have learnt elsewhere. In some sense, to me, it would always remain home away from.
I *heart* karachi
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