Random introspective musings one night in August.

Someone I met once, told me that lahore should be the world’s wedding capital...I agreed. (’twas march and full-on shadis) But all these shadis, extravagant and ostentatious yet...fun...tons of fun. shadis with a million events which last for weeks on end; dholkis, milads, mayoons, mehndis, blah blooh blee...yet they define us...they symbolise lahore, lahore throwing her arms wide open, embracing, inviting, and welcoming. Lahore forever ensconced on her throne of culture, knowledge and intellect...the decadent glory of lahore. Lahore with its veiled secrets down dark alleys, mysterious foggy nights, misty mornings glistening with dew, its streets, its bustling traffic, its hidden spots of lovliness, safely spirited away from the pollution and ugliness. I’ve been searching for the city’s smell...it’s not one smell...there are countless. For Lahore at any given time has a multitude of faces, of sides, of dimensions. The Lahore that I know and love, is sometime evil and sinister...just beneath its surface are unsaid things and rejected emotions, at once turbulent and heated...it glints, this Lahore, I know it not and yet I do.
But if you were to ask me abhi what lahore is all about...I’d say it’s about me, my city...everywhere I go, every instant...memories stir in remembrance and moments are captured and treasured, preserving their irregular symmetry.
and yes somewhere in there, inside the lahore-lattice is the ’painduness’...lassi, bhangra, punjabi, the garish cheapness,
dhol-wallahs and luddi, pithu gol garam, lahori-gluttony and general foodie-ness...it’s in our blood, our lineage demands it to be as such.
but karachi...the old sind and punjab bit again...we look down upon karachi ("burgers!") and yet we adore them ("karachiites" or *chuckle* "karachiwallahs") and yes while karachi would be your bottle of Canola sunflower oil, lahore would be aslee desi ghee.