I think this may be my final post to this blog. I have arrived back in the place from which I set out – Leeds, another home. I have cried every day since being back (four days). I did not expect my heart to break like this, but alas, I guess that is the price I pay to leave a part of it in a place other than where I am. It is strange and confusing to be “home”, but feel every moment that I am missing another place. I am blessed and joyful to be reunited with my immediate family, and yet, I feel a sense of grief. At fajr I felt a sorrow that there was no cacophony of adhaans, no cockrels crowing, few birds chirping on the roof… yesterday I cried when I showered, washing the last of Lahore’s dust from my body, changing my socks – the same ones that had seeds from the mango tree embedded in them. Perhaps I sound melodramatic, but the tears speak more than I can explain. It doesn’t make full sense to me, either, that I am this sad to leave. And yet, it does. I fell in love – with Lahore, and with my Massi, who, for me, is bound up with all that Lahore was, the love and joy I felt there, the ability to feel at home across linguistic and other boundaries. I fell in love with living with old women. I fell in love with making porridge for three, drinking mixed tea, the sun of a kind that this cold dreary place does not know. On the drive back from the airport I could have cried at the empty quietness of the roads – my Nani lamented the lack of fruit-seller calls and bicycle announcements. I will miss living with her everyday, miss making her laugh and the special closeness we developed – and yet, these ten weeks sit on us like an inside-joke, and I know, that for all of us – this was something special… for me, it may have been one of the happiest times of my life.

an iphone note from the plane:


you will cry all the way home
you will cry in the silence of a taxi ride
your six legs pressed together for a last time
you will cry in the darkness of the plane
sat between two old women
who aren’t them

you will find out your heart is breaking
by this constant spilling of tears
only then will you realise how much you loved
every time you close your eyes to sleep
a blanket of water will come between

you will watch her embrace you a thousand times
the flight of her kiss on your head
words overwhelm you and underwhelm you
you will feel the tears rise again
stand apart in silence again
she will wipe her eyes with her shawl again
and you will drive to the airport in silence

you will laugh as you cry
and cup her face when she has to leave
you will kiss her hand when she reaches to shake yours
the echo of your kiss on her forehead the night before still there

your heart will break more than once
your heart is breaking for tomorrow already
when her hand wont wriggle into yours in the morning
her toothless smile won’t sunshine on you over porridge you made

you will choke over unsaid words the night before
at the thought of making porridge for one
you will lay side by side in the dark
tell her you cried today because your heart is sad
she will tell you she cried in the park herself
that the same future ghosts haunting you haunt her
that this spring is a blossoming of sadness
for the flowers may be blooming
but alone they don’t look so pretty

you will almost cry as you fry her another egg
nani said you may as well since there’s no point leaving one behind
left behind it would feel lonely

sunlight shakes your hand through the plane window for a last time
you cry into your diary
something about you is smaller
a piece left behind
a breaking heart is a beautiful price to pay though
to get to leave a piece behind;
you will cry all the way home though.



3 Comments Add yours

  1. Harun a runnign away England says:

    damn SuhaiymahJi, humbling to know it was the one of happiest of your time.


  2. Tazannay says:

    hope your happiest times in Pakistan return soon


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