karachi: home, no more

A few weeks ago, in the not-so-cold December of 2014, I lost all my rights to call this city my home. A city that I have actively adored at some points, and hated at some other points in life. I had to leave the country after an imminent death threat following more than 7 years of investment in a career with nonprofits, and more than 2 decades of investments in social relationships. I was gay anyway, and had to eventually leave anyway. But not like this. Not under these circumstances.

Karachi was home to me. I was THE poster boy for love of the city. People knew me from my work, and still recognize us as the trio who successfully rekindled the love of the city in hearts of the young ones, albeit for a short while. Karachi was sea view, and rikshaws and spending time at Gloria endlessly because none of us wanted to go home. Karachi was crying, hugging and kissing in the obscurest of all places, in cars and on rooftops of commercial buildings. Karachi was scary. Karachi was ammi kay haath kay aalu kay parathay, and main chai ka pani rakhne lagi hoon, tum pio gay? Karachi was french fries from Stadium Road McDonalds at 1am, and Falooda from random Jauhar joint at 1230am after one of us got nikah-o-fied. Karachi was automation of life, of Noor Bhai calling me every morning at 8:15 after he’d parked his car outside my house to pick me up for work, and Abrar Bhai knowing exactly how long it will take to get home from Sindhi Muslim Chowrangi after a long day at work.

It hurt like a bitch when all of that was taken away with just one text message.

On December 11, suddenly I didn’t have a home anymore.

I had just gotten back to Pakistan. I wasn’t even over my jetlag yet. I wasn’t even completely back at work, yet. Day 1 was cleaning the house, day 2 was dealing with the electrician and the paint guys because bhayya’s shaadi was coming up soon. Day 3 was back at work and Day 4 was hell.

Not long ago, speaking to her late outside our AirBnB place in Brooklyn late at night, I found myself saying that even though life in Karachi had all: my life, friends, work, family and goals, it was a life I didn’t want. I didn’t know I’d have to give up on Karachi so painfully soon.

-x-

Not long after I had left, someone on Twitter sent me links to various pro-city artsy blogs / Facebook initiatives asking if I was behind any of them.

No, sir. I can’t preach about Karachi’s awesomeness anymore. Those days are long gone.

One More Time

Anyone I’ve ever dated / loved / been loved by never took me in completely. All of them- men and women alike- weren’t aware of unconditional love (the existence of which, by the way, I should be doubting now but not quite yet) in the context I wanted them to, and it hurts a little.

I’m giving up another major part of me, sadly for another someone in my life at this point. I don’t know if this is a wise decision, neither do I know how long this is going to last, but under protest, I’m throwing away everything associated with cigarettes to my life. I can fight, I can wake him up in the middle of this quiet October night, and tell him how annoyed as fuck I am right now, and how I fucking don’t need his money or his support, and how goddamn true it is that I wish I didn’t have to change myself, or alter my behavior for another one of these chances at happiness and companionship and lifelong joy, but I’m choosing to let this one go because I don’t want to fight.

I want a true, honest chance at happiness and if this is what it takes, so be it.

I’m not going to let 4inches of tobacco three times a day ruin this one for me. He’s too important to me.

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Pack Up and Go

So much on my mind tonight- right now: just the wish to record this night with words because the story may evolve, the tools remain the same. 

– Karachi: I’m tired of you. I’m tired of the people, the gossip, the same conversations over and over again. The frustration, the fear of being stuck here forever. The expectations, the running into someone I know everywhere I go. I saw a post on Facebook today that said something about how all this city has to offer you is lonliness. So much for solitude. 

– As expected, packing my life into one suitcase, (and a half?) wasn’t easy. What to take, what not to take. I told him I want him to come to the airport and even though we won’t be able to kiss eachother the first time we see it, that’s exactly how I’ve been envisioning our reunion since February. Give or take another couple hours, I don’t think so. 

– I’m excited to see him. And live with him. Live, not vacation. But wake up and go to work and wait for him to get back and meet for grocery shopping during the day and meeting friends for dinners and sleeping in each others’ arms. I’m excited to have all of that materialize. I am excited to marry him, if that happens. But I guess the “if” does put a lot of questions on the table. 

– He posted on Facebook about me leaving, and I know he’s freaked out but he has to take the leap. I think one person I’ll probably miss the most would be B, not A or F or K. She needs to give me a notebook so I could write about her. 

– I made sure I’m taking our photographs, prints not digital, with me. 

– It would be nice to see BB, of course. 

Zang laga hua hai. Faiz chal rahay hain. Over occupied.

again.

back on the market. need some distraction. sex is the best option.

but.

idk. the damage.

emotional damage.

this is abrupt.

fuck it.

trouble doesn’t knock before it walks in

Its that time of the year again. Loneliness has crept up into my bones. It’s scary and uneasy and all my sense of belonging is suddenly gone.

I asked him what his suggestion is on surviving the times when it feels like your body has been taken over by a parasitic vine – emotionally. He said I was asking the wrong person.

“Masla yehi hai na, you’re not the wrong person. You’re you. Youre my it. Had you been the wrong person things would’ve been so much easier.”

I wouldn’t have felt like you’re my it. I wouldn’t have felt like my world revolves around you, or my heart and soul wouldn’t have ached for you. We would’ve broken up long ago if you had been the wrong person. Because fuck, long distance was never in my dictionary.

Productive last few days at work. Day two with the therapist and I’m told I’m using work as an excuse to avoid facing the real issue. I’m told I need to surround myself with more genuine people and “friends” and be happy for others. yet all I could do today, despite the fact that I myself made the plan, was stare into space as they talked of his wedding whenever that happens. And relationships and love and understanding of human emotion. 

Perhaps nothing turns me off more than those who question my identity.

It’s not a phase, dear therapist. Fuck off.

last post

last post: yes, we’re two very materialistic little bitches. 

‘i look forward to a lifetime of trying to make you smile’

He was going to see A in June, and asked if he could send some stuff back with him for me. You know, presents (it’s a ritual, socks are a ritual too) and I said sure. 

Now that he had mentioned, I had to send some stuff for him, first. The very next day F and I shopped for him- a whole bunch of stuff. Wall hangings and typical zainab market artisan shit (just his taste, corny I know). And some shirts (like the one I wore that one night and he really, really liked it). Sent all of that with him. 

Two weeks later A was back in Pakistan with a package under my name which came from DC to Islamabad to Quetta and eventually to Karachi- but had to sit at my desk for two weeks until I came back and saw it. 

And opened it. 

And cried because he had sent sunflower seeds. 

–

Later that day, when on my way back home in a rikshaw, I opened the box again and found socks (shocker) and a card that said he didn’t know what to get because A didn’t have a lot of weight available in his luggage, and sunflower seeds was something that he knew for sure I would love and it would make me smile. 

“i look forward to a lifetime of trying to make you smile,” he said. on the card that said “i need more of you in my life” on the outside and “so come over here and fix that!” on the inside. 

–

Fixing it honey. While chewing on to these sunflower seeds. 

And Wearing those socks. 

Tera chehra phir agar main dekh loon bus ek baar,

Shukr karte karte baqi zindagi ko doon guzaar.

 

Also, fuck translations.

back.

Sometimes it becomes so difficult to actually open a word document and start typing. No, not work-related typing, but heart-related typing.

Last few days have been kind of heavy. There’s a lot on my mind I don’t know who to let it out to. So this blog is back.

–          Shoutout to someone I usually refer to as “crazystalkerfriendpersonthatilike” in front of my friends. You’ve reminded me how much I loved writing and maybe you’re why this is back.

–          Quitting was easy for first two weeks. Then cheat day happened and all day today I’ve basically been in bed with an aching body and a desire to pop disprin after disprin. No, I didn’t. Yes, I’m okay now. I don’t know if I’m going back to smoking though. This feels too good, the pain and the nice smell on my breath, and the feeling in my heart that if I am successful right now, I’d be a happy dad.

–          On parenting, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready and I certainly don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to have a kid with him. House was on TV today and these two parents (heteros) were crying in the hospital because their 7 year old was suffering from a disease I can’t pronounce the name of, and I did imagine the two of us being the parents of a sick child someday (twisted, I know) but I still am not ready to start my life over.

–          Work is fucking great right now.

–          He’s still too far.

–          I don’t think I can do the distance thing much longer.

–          I feel like my friends and I never do stuff, and I’m a boring person now and I never have fun and all I ever do is work but I guess that’s okay. Fuck that, it’s not okay. It makes me feel like I’ll never fit into his life(style). He talked to me about taking a trip to south America with his friends next year and I said I don’t know if I’d like that a lot, and how I’d rather travel alone and he didn’t enjoy the idea very much. “You know, travelling with my friends is important to me and I don’t know if I’d want to do it alone all the time, and I’d like you to come along at some point,” to which I said I’ll compromise I guess. BUT. We all know I’m not great at those (partly because I’m not great at those).

–          Oh well.

–          I think I’ll continue to write ab.