“How old are you?”
If you ask a Pakistani this question, he or she is likely to stumble. He is not likely to say, “Biological age or official age?”
You Cannot Go Back Home
On a whim, I decided to show our granddaughter the house in Pakistan where I lived, and where I was married.
Read moreWhat Hasn't Changed in Pakistan
The culture of hospitality. It has survived the onslaught of terrorist attacks, robberies, pandemics and every fear that threatens to chip away at trust and an open-arms attitude. Let me share a story.
Read moreA Changed Pakistan
I visited the land of my birth last month. So much has changed, and so much remains the same.
For now, let me just talk about getting around on the streets of Lahore, one of the most crowded cities.
I Was a Rolling Stone
“Did you move as a child? my son asked. Did I ever? Short answer: All the time. Moving was a way of life.
Daddy was in the military and it was routine for the army to keep their officers on the move . . .
Losing My Mother
A week after I buried my mother, I sat down in my mother’s home in Pakistan, to write to my family and friends at home in the US. That was six year ago today.
Read moreA Letter From Pakistan
We got hit before Pakistan. I am talking about the Coronavirus. January 21st now seems so long ago,
Read moreOf Socks and Men
“Dear Sabeeha, I’m sure you’ve seen this. What do you think of it?”
I hadn’t seen it. A colleague of mine, a dear friend, had sent me a text on Facebook Messenger first thing in the morning, with a link to a piece in the New York Times: “How Do I Know Where Your Socks Are?”
Woman Proposes; God Disposes
Today I would have been in Pakistan, sitting in the lawn on a sunny afternoon, savoring a cup of Kashmiri Chai with my sister Neena, and bouncing my two-year old grandnephew on my arthritic knee. But it didn’t happen.
Read moreWhat If I Was Kidnapped? Or Worse.
That morning, Daddy dropped me off, but when I got to the school gate, it was locked.
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