Each time I come home, it’s with a foreboding sense that this time I won’t experience the same ecstasy and bliss of returning to an innocent and purer cocoon that still binds and bonds me to my childhood. Each time, I’m happily mistaken. The airports and points of departure continue to keep pace with my journey of self-discovery, but my mooring, my anchor, remains steady as ever.

Despite the changes to the scenery and the people, there’s a part of Pakistan that all of us carry within us. It’s that part that calls us when we’ve been away for too long. And it’s that part that always makes me feel like I’m walking back in time to an era where everything seems to stand still.

So, it was a pleasant surprise and an honour when the super talented Saba Karim Khan reached out to me for a chance to contribute to an anthology on the concept of home and how it’s almost a character that plays an important role in our life’s journey. I’m so humbled to be in the company of such great writers, thinkers and achievers from Pakistan. Names such as Khalid Anam, Omar Shahid Hamid, Awais Khan, Ali Khan, and so many more.

I’m sharing a brief snippet from my piece titled “You May Say I’m A Dreamer” — yes I’m a John Lennon fan just based on this song alone. It’d mean a lot if you showed what’s been a labour of love for everyone involved some affection from your side too.

After-school chores included making a human chain as we shouted instructions at Dad on the roof, who would be trying to align the antennae so that we could catch cross-border channels. I used to get all my information from Neelam Ghar.

Watching Tariq Aziz calling the newlyweds on the stage always used to make me blush. Whenever someone answered correctly or do something worth applauding, everyone would shout “Electra!” accompanied by banging on our desks. If Dad was in a really good mood, we would all troop into our car and drive to Islamabad. The highlight of the trip would be to go to Jinnah Super Market. We would drive around the gol market once and stop for burgers and fries at Captain Cook.

The evening would be topped off with a visit to Hot Spot if you could remember which street to turn into. There was something about sitting in that refurbished train cabin, eating ice cream and playing your favorite song on the jukebox, that just made you feel invincible. Some years later, the cool, hip venue would change to Shaheens at Super Market, and being out and about would mean hanging out at Mama’s ice cream. Weekends and holidays meant going to Ayub Park or Chattar Park. Getting Savor Pulao for the trip was always a hit. Sometimes, Dad would get a couple of days off and we would make camp at Lady Roberts in Murree. That walk on the Mall Road, checking out people from all over the country and screaming our lungs off on the chairlifts used to be a yearly summer tradition. It would also mark the end of summer holidays. The last night before school would see a mad dash to the local stationary store to get glue, notebooks and khaki wrapping papers.

Dad would be laughing as we stayed up all night finishing the homework which we’d kept putting off. “Gaya waqt phir haath aata naheen,” he’d say in his mock baritone voice. “Dad, stop it!” we’d scream as we scribbled essays and pasted hastily trapped insects and flowers in our biology journals. “Saada aesh e dauraan dekhata naheen,” Dad would finish in a more somber tone. Today, as my nine-year-old hangs onto every word of my childhood, I finally understand what our father was trying to tell us. I catch myself as the candle burns out. We carry our sleeping daughter and put her to bed. She half wakes up and makes me promise to tell her more tomorrow. “You never told me about the Murree escapades,” says my wife. “What happens on Mall Road, stays on Mall Road,” I reply in my best Ashton Kutcher accent.

The book is titled Home #Itscomplicated has been launched at the Karachi Literary Festival where it’s currently available. Please do go if you have the time. It’ll mean the world to me and everyone else who bared their soul. For my friends in Lahore, the book will also be launched at the upcoming Lahore Literary Festival. Be sure to check it out.

And finally, the book is also available to order online and will soon be on Amazon as well.

Quick Update: The book has already gone to reprint and is doing well thanks to all your love. Here’s a video of the launch of Home#ItsComplicated at the Karachi Literature Festival.