Return of the Prodigal

I've been back for just over a week now, but still having a hard time readjusting to regular life. No extravagant shopping trips all day, no fabulously scrumptious food available at every corner, and certainly no hustle bustle of thousands, or the constant blaring of cars, bikes, rickshaws and horse carriages alike. Instead, I'm back to a city thats having major power problems and a mountain load of work that gets bigger every time I think about looking at it.

The three weeks away that I had planned for turned into a little over four. Not because we were having such an incredibly great time, which we were. But the medical check-up my mom was undergoing required it. And so, having asked for only a three week leave of absence from work, I started revamping my resume in my mind and thought of exactly what I'd say at my next job interview.

Fortunately, everything turned out okay. The tests revealed nothing serious that couldn't be controlled with loving care and a hawk-eye watch over medication and diet; and my desk still sat waiting empty. Barely just.

What I hadn't bargained for was how much I'd miss Karachi. The smells, the sounds, the flavours, the frequent chuckles with family, the noisy rickshaw-wallahs and the incredibly hot Pathan boys. Every little thing became an excuse to return.

So much so that my last conversation with mom went; "Mom, the toilet paper here is so crap. Lets move to Pakistan."