Scratching at Dawn
With my new kurta, where the top and bottoms are a matching set, I am swallowed into Pakistan.
I stay up late into the night, scratching at dawn, and sleep close to morning’s expiration daily. I talk with family members about finding my Pakistani bestie her Syed-Shia future husband who is westernized enough to understand her. Am I becoming a desi auntie? (Kidding).
But yes, days are going swell.
I went outside yesterday. That should not be an irregular thing, but remember from last entry, I said I was hibernating. So yes, I went outside yesterday: a sensory overload and bliss from the sun curling around the tree branches, birds whistling in the sky absorbed me. Although the fresh air is colder, something about Earth’s circulation always makes the body warmer. Perhaps sensory satisfaction leads to warmth? The primordial version of auto rickshaws here (a literal motorbike with seated enclosure attached on the back), are all labelled with “QINGQI.” Replace a letter, and you get one of my dearest friends’ names. Oh the small details that keep us close to those whom are far away.
I am spending a lot of time on video calls. I am enchanted by how much fulfillment I get from talking to my loved ones, even with this distance. Hours pass like minutes, and the days are closing out faster than I can acknowledge them beginning.
Food is, of course, delicious. Chawal (rice) is my fav. I apologize to roti, but nothing can beat a long-grained rice, for me. ESPECIALLY when the rice is prepared like biryani (but obviously, without the meat).
Some favs:
pumpkin (kadu) and daal curry
channa (obvi) with halwa and a paratha for brekkie
biryani (obvi)
Paratha and peanut butter (yes I am still a white girl somewhere inside)
kajoor (dates)
cilantro (dhania) chutney (actually the most insanely delicious thing that I could spoon feed myself)
I am definitely homesick (what I mean is that I crave stability for more than a couple weeks time). Inshallah soon.
