Diary of an Introvert

  People say all kinds of things about Karachi and honestly, I never really bought into it. Sure, we’re all out here hustling, surviving this wild economy, always on our toes. But today… Karachi reminded me who she really is. So, picture this: I’m out driving, vibing and boom, my car breaks down. Not once, but twice. I somehow roll up to the nearest traffic police station, fully expecting a “good luck with that” situation. But instead? The officer helps me. Calls a mechanic. Sorts everything out. And neither of them tried to rip me off in fact, the officer made sure I got a fair price. Now here’s the part that gave me goosebumps: I’m a Christian. The officer was Muslim. The mechanic was Hindu. No labels, no bias — just three people from three faiths coming together to help a fellow human. This is the Karachi I know and love messy, chaotic, generous, diverse, and full of heart. The city of lights, biryani, breakdowns, and big-hearted people. Long story short: kindness still exists....

  In my thirties now, and oh what a phase, Trading wild nights for calmer days. Yes, I’m aging laugh lines grow, But with them comes a lovely glow. I’ve found my voice, I’ve drawn my line, I say “no thanks” and still feel fine. No more chasing what won’t stay, If it brings no joy, I walk away. A concert? Yes, but make it solo, Just me, my tunes, a private show though. Dancing barefoot, water in hand, In my cozy, cluttered, quiet land. I’m married now, and peace is gold, We argue ‘bout the thermostat but behold! That kind of love, it grows with time, In matching sweats, we feel sublime. No FOMO here, I’m out the door By sunset back by half-past four I get it now those parental fears, Their wisdom echoes through the years. Becoming Mom? I see it clear, The apron, sighs, and all that cheer. And honestly, it’s not that bad Being “mature” is kind of rad. So here’s to rest and herbal tea, And knowing just who I want to be Thirty-something, wise and free ...