Ayesha, however I feel that you misunderstood some of my points. When I visited Karachi, Pakistan for the first time in 2010, not once did I feel like an outsider. As I mentioned I had an incredible time. So much so that I didn’t wanted to leave when it was time to and I wished my stay could’ve been longer.
Except, this year I did get homesick and couldn’t wait to come back. Why? Things were different because a lot changed. I went there to commemorate the death of someone who was dear to my heart. This loss set the tone for the entire trip. There was a cloud of sadness that overhung everywhere I went. It wasn’t all honky dory. I was self-conscious and mindful of that.

Secondly, the Islamic month of Muharram was being observed and there was city-wide heightened security presence to curb any upheaval. Yet, during my stay there were 3 bombings targeted at Muslim Shia worshippers. The first explosion happened about 20 km from my residence. It was late at night while I was in bed. The explosion was so loud and intense that the whole house shook. Even though the targeted area was far I heard it loud and clear. The second explosion occurred a few hours later within a block from the first explosion. Thankfully, the culprits missed their targets. Unfortunately days later a third blast took a few innocent lives. Worse, one evening I was coming back to Defence from another part of the city (KDA) when I received a frantic call from our house taker urging me to get home ASAP. Rioting had started in Saddar after gunshots were fired at a Shia procession passing by. In retaliation dozens of rickshaws were torched as were several taxis. Many people got injured. I rushed my ride to get me home safely. After this I wanted to come home. My sense of security felt threatened. I like Karachi and its people but can’t imagine myself living in place where I have to fear for my life.

Lastly, on several occasions it was pointed out to me that I was a ‘visitor’ hence a foreigner/outsider. If I expressed an interest in mingling with the common folk including the servant workers my presence in their company was questioned more than once. I remember going to Bihar colony, place of my mom family’s humble beginnings. For the residents of this part of the city someone from outside town randomly showing up in a chauffeur driven car was quite an unusual sight. I was asked why I was there. With my camera dangling from my neck passersbys assumed I was a journalist or a reporter. They don’t get many people from Defence visiting this gritty part of Karachi. I shouldn’t be here, I was told. I was in the wrong territory. For my driver it was ‘safer’ if I had stayed in our locked car with the windows rolled up. All this made me feel unwelcome. Other times I would join my caretakers and servants as they ate their meals outside. They shared that I was probably the first one (I’m guessing) to have done so as there was a clear separate line between our social status and class. Even though they weren’t used to a ‘superior’ joining them in their zone they still appreciated my willingness to interact with them freely.

This entire experience really made me self- conscious and grateful for the life I live in Canada. We do lead a very sheltered and materialistic life here. It’s like a safe cocoon. Yet, it’s almost always taken for granted. This trip made me realize how fortunate I am to live such life. I can afford to drive around Toronto well past midnight without fearing for my personal safety which is unthinkable as a Karachiite. It made me count my blessings and be content with what I have be it a drop of water to quench my thirst, food to nourish my body and the freedom and opportunities we in Canada are so blessed with. For many people in Karachi can only dare to dream about such life.