Karachi- sandpit! It was the time when we were almost ready to leave the beautiful sea of our coastal city Karachi. Exactly when our things were packed and our kids were all washed up. The sun was about to vanish and had already lost its scorching heat in the process. My brother told me to
i wish to livein a yellow houseon an oak treeold and tallproud and wise farfrom the clutterin my mind arethere such homesmay one be mine may i findsolace and peacemidst these loudscreams and shrieksi wish to finda home that’s mine a yellow tree house
I held an atlas in my lapRan my finger across the whole worldAnd whisperedWhere does it hurt?Everywhere everywhereEverywhere. I held it close this timeRan my finger over the bleeding atlasAnd whisperedDoes it heal eventually?Not yet not yet, the scars havent yet healed I shone my torch this timeOver the moaning globeWhispered this timeWhat of your
Fresh air. Dampness. Searching for light. I stood there. On my terrace. Waiting for the sun. Looking at the sky. Dancing my eyes through the trees. Searching. Listening. The birds chatter. The whistles of the wind. And then. It finally came. The light. The sun. That changed everything. Daring. Daring me to start my day.
It’s bright. Nothing new. It always was. And always will be. The day. With kids. With life. With love. This is what I am. This is what I will always be. Bright. The light.