Dinner at Gilgit ~
Everything was red and green. It was a duplicate of the highway restaurants we have in Karachi. The Takhat and Gowtakia sittings. Don’t be hard on yourself about what’s a Takhat and a Gowtakia. These are typical South Asian things. A Takhat is a flat rectangular table like structure of wood, traditionally it’s used to sit down on the top of it, have dinner and a Gowtakia is a large round cushion.
“I think we should take the place inside the building, is there any family hall?” Bhaiya asked the waiter who greeted us. It was drizzling when we entered the place.
“Yes, sir, please follow me.”The place was more overwhelming than outside. Nice and cozy, dimly lighted.
Our sitting was a large space above the ground level. Covered with red carpet and Gowtakias, the real Islamic traditional way of eating, there was a dastar khawn in the middle, we gathered around it and took our places. Kids were as usual bouncing up and down.
“Okay so, not only the place looks exactly like one in Karachi but the menu doesn’t have anything new,” said Api while looking at the Manu card.
“Karahi would be great right,” suggested Baji.“Yes, I think so.”
So, we order for karhai and handi, the everlasting wait for our food begun. It seemed to take longer than it really did, we were tired and sleepy. Kids started to sleep one by one. All the males started talking about the outlay of our trip until then. Which I was not at all interested in, so I moved towards the ladies. Did I mention that the account was being handled by Bhaiya and Bhabi was helping him to write it. The food was good. On the other hand, one might say I was hungry enough to eat and not to think. On a serious note, it was tasty. Nevertheless, exactly the same as we eat in Karachi.By the time, we finished eating. Majority of the kids were sleeping, snoring more correctly. It became hard for us to travel back to our hotel, or rather hostile. Honestly speaking I don’t remember how I get back to my bed, before I knew it, I was fast asleep with my family. 18th JulyThe morning at Gilgit was as cranky as it can be, every part of my body was aching. As always, I woke up with my husbands’ complaints.
“Get up it’s over nine o’clock now, get the kids ready, before everyone starts chaos here.”
“Oh, where are they?” I opened my eyes and found myself alone in the bed.
“They are already up and about.”
“All right, okay I’m up too, don’t make a fuss.”
“I’m going downstairs to watch News,” he informed and left while I was making sense out of what he’d just said.
“Tanzeela where’s Hassan bhai? I have to discuss about our plan for today with him,” Bhaiya said peeking through the door.
“He just went downstairs to watch TV news.”
“Oh, I’ve been doing the calculations of our expenditures up until now.”
“That’s nice, what are we doing for our breakfast today?”
“Api is saying that we’ll have it here, so we have sent emad to bring eggs, bread and stuff.”
“Can we use the kitchen here.”
“Yes, but they have only one small electric stove. So, we’ll just boil eggs and make tea. I think you should come with me; I’ll show you the kitchen downstairs, please start boiling water for the eggs.” Bhaiya alluded.
“Okay just give me five minutes.”When I went out of the room, emad was standing with our breakfast in his hands.
“Where should I put it.”
“Apa’s room, it’s the biggest,” said Api.
“Give me the eggs I’m going downstairs to get them boiled,” I said.Boiling more than a dozen eggs over an electric stove was hell of a job, patience required. Which I basically lack. So, I marched from one end of the room to the other. Occasionally ladies would come down to ask if it was done.
“I’m melting the butter; we’ll mix eggs with it to make a spread,” said Api.
“Omaina can you please start peeling the skin off the eggs,” I gave her the eggs and went up to check on the kids.
“Did anybody started making tea downstairs?” Asked Apa, the most wanted thing in the world.
“Nope I don’t think so,” I answered.
“Okay I’ll go down for that.”Our breakfast was one big example of muddled actions. Some were eating. Some were cleaning, and others were packing things up.Alas we managed to end it and started packing for Hunza. We had settled to start our journey towards Hunza at noon, after a great deal of discussion among the elders.I was loving the view from the balcony of Bhaiya’s room, with a cup from another round of tea specially made by Bhabi, while the rest of them were debating with each other. It was a lovely view; one could see the mountains far away. Gilgit is a beautiful city. A lush Green Valley between snow-covered mountains with a mixture of warm brown colors.
“Tanzeela, let’s go downstairs to wait for others, take all your stuff,” my husband said.
“O look there is a colorful butterfly,” shrieked Zunaira while we were waiting outside in the lawn.
“Let’s take a pic,” said Ali joyfully.
“Mama can I have your mobile,” he asked me.
“No I saw it first I’ll take a pic,” justified Zunaira.
“But I asked first,” insisted Ali.
“Alright don’t hammer each other around, it’ll fly away, I’ll take the pic,” I said and tried to cater for its beauty. Even so, before I knew it, it flew away.
“What are you playing around for, keep kids by your side, don’t let them fly over the place,” commanded my husband.
At last, our coaster showed up the driveway. My husband started to put our luggage into it. If you are pondering, how can we put back our luggage when we didn’t take it out. Then you must ask emad, as always; most of the things were out bit by bit, thanks to Emad, the great.Dinner at Gilgit ~
Everything was red and green. It was a duplicate of the highway restaurants we have in Karachi. The Takhat and Gowtakia sittings. Don’t be hard on yourself about what’s a Takhat and a Gowtakia. These are typical South Asian things. A Takhat is a flat rectangular table like structure of wood, traditionally it’s used to sit down on the top of it, have dinner and a Gowtakia is a large round cushion.
“I think we should take the place inside the building, is there any family hall?” Bhaiya asked the waiter who greeted us. It was drizzling when we entered the place.
“Yes, sir, please follow me.”The place was more overwhelming than outside. Nice and cozy, dimly lighted.
Our sitting was a large space above the ground level. Covered with red carpet and Gowtakias, the real Islamic traditional way of eating, there was a dastar khawn in the middle, we gathered around it and took our places. Kids were as usual bouncing up and down.
“Okay so, not only the place looks exactly like one in Karachi but the menu doesn’t have anything new,” said Api while looking at the Manu card.
“Karahi would be great right,” suggested Baji.“Yes, I think so.”
So, we order for karhai and handi, the everlasting wait for our food begun. It seemed to take longer than it really did, we were tired and sleepy. Kids started to sleep one by one. All the males started talking about the outlay of our trip until then. Which I was not at all interested in, so I moved towards the ladies. Did I mention that the account was being handled by Bhaiya and Bhabi was helping him to write it. The food was good. On the other hand, one might say I was hungry enough to eat and not to think. On a serious note, it was tasty. Nevertheless, exactly the same as we eat in Karachi.By the time, we finished eating. Majority of the kids were sleeping, snoring more correctly. It became hard for us to travel back to our hotel, or rather hostile. Honestly speaking I don’t remember how I get back to my bed, before I knew it, I was fast asleep with my family. 18th JulyThe morning at Gilgit was as cranky as it can be, every part of my body was aching. As always, I woke up with my husbands’ complaints.
“Get up it’s over nine o’clock now, get the kids ready, before everyone starts chaos here.”
“Oh, where are they?” I opened my eyes and found myself alone in the bed.
“They are already up and about.”
“All right, okay I’m up too, don’t make a fuss.”
“I’m going downstairs to watch News,” he informed and left while I was making sense out of what he’d just said.
“Tanzeela where’s Hassan bhai? I have to discuss about our plan for today with him,” Bhaiya said peeking through the door.
“He just went downstairs to watch TV news.”
“Oh, I’ve been doing the calculations of our expenditures up until now.”
“That’s nice, what are we doing for our breakfast today?”
“Api is saying that we’ll have it here, so we have sent emad to bring eggs, bread and stuff.”
“Can we use the kitchen here.”
“Yes, but they have only one small electric stove. So, we’ll just boil eggs and make tea. I think you should come with me; I’ll show you the kitchen downstairs, please start boiling water for the eggs.” Bhaiya alluded.
“Okay just give me five minutes.”When I went out of the room, emad was standing with our breakfast in his hands.
“Where should I put it.”
“Apa’s room, it’s the biggest,” said Api.
“Give me the eggs I’m going downstairs to get them boiled,” I said.Boiling more than a dozen eggs over an electric stove was hell of a job, patience required. Which I basically lack. So, I marched from one end of the room to the other. Occasionally ladies would come down to ask if it was done.
“I’m melting the butter; we’ll mix eggs with it to make a spread,” said Api.
“Omaina can you please start peeling the skin off the eggs,” I gave her the eggs and went up to check on the kids.
“Did anybody started making tea downstairs?” Asked Apa, the most wanted thing in the world.
“Nope I don’t think so,” I answered.
“Okay I’ll go down for that.”Our breakfast was one big example of muddled actions. Some were eating. Some were cleaning, and others were packing things up.Alas we managed to end it and started packing for Hunza. We had settled to start our journey towards Hunza at noon, after a great deal of discussion among the elders.I was loving the view from the balcony of Bhaiya’s room, with a cup from another round of tea specially made by Bhabi, while the rest of them were debating with each other. It was a lovely view; one could see the mountains far away. Gilgit is a beautiful city. A lush Green Valley between snow-covered mountains with a mixture of warm brown colors.
“Tanzeela, let’s go downstairs to wait for others, take all your stuff,” my husband said.
“O look there is a colorful butterfly,” shrieked Zunaira while we were waiting outside in the lawn.
“Let’s take a pic,” said Ali joyfully.
“Mama can I have your mobile,” he asked me.
“No I saw it first I’ll take a pic,” justified Zunaira.
“But I asked first,” insisted Ali.
“Alright don’t hammer each other around, it’ll fly away, I’ll take the pic,” I said and tried to cater for its beauty. Even so, before I knew it, it flew away.
“What are you playing around for, keep kids by your side, don’t let them fly over the place,” commanded my husband.
At last, our coaster showed up the driveway. My husband started to put our luggage into it. If you are pondering, how can we put back our luggage when we didn’t take it out. Then you must ask emad, as always; most of the things were out bit by bit, thanks to Emad, the great.

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