I’m lucky enough to say that I’ve lived in Islamabad for a significant amount of time. The plethora of places, diversity of people, and interaction between cultures is truly amazing. It’s safe to say Islamabad is to Pakistan what the United States is to the world: a beacon of hope and symbol of freedom for all to thrive and prosper. Where everyone is not only accepted, but also celebrated. Where a Chitrali awaits his naan order conversing with a Karachiite about last night’s cricket match against Australia. Where a music store and a book store and a mosque are in the same plaza of the markaz.

But it’s unfortunate that I’ve been living in Islamabad for too significant an amount of time. To a fly in a closet, the world is the closet; it becomes so used to being in there that it fails to notice the intricate hand-stitched patterns, the feeling of sitting on a cotton polyester blend, it forgets the reason it entered the closet in the first place. And it’s not just me, it’s almost everyone. We are given opportunities and experiences here that are nowhere else in the world, we are served all the succulent food the city has to offer; yet we don’t, for even one second, notice it. We would rather watch reports on riots and report the number of casualties than switch to Coke Studio and share the joy of perhaps discovering a new favorite artist.

So this blog is for everyone who wants a new perspective. Everyone who wants to notice the extraordinary in the seemingly mundane. Everyone who wants to look at things again with a fresh view.

I will be documenting the regular miracles that occur. I’ll be taking stories from bazaars and cafes and parks and trails. I’ll not only be seeking a fresh view for myself, but also providing an insider’s view for you. I’ll be talking, walking, eating, playing what I find to be just a way to waste time in the hopes that I find the reason I wanted to do them in the first place.


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