2000. We are back in Pakistan. This is not fair to me by any means. I am 9, I was born in post communist Bucharest and I only get 9 years of the Foreign Service whilst Tariq and Farzana get to float away in post BSc bliss in London after having been educated in American schools and all I get is Beaconhouse? Hell no. But it is hell yes, Saira. You’re going to live a middle class life whether you like it or not.
Moving back to Pakistan was a cultural and financial shock. The $ got replaced with the man with the hat, which means austerity season is officially in. Every rupee counts now, every errand debated. The Khyber is sexy — not because it is, but because it has to be. We either ride or die.
- When Tariq and Farzana visited for the first time, they expected a chauffeur-driven Mercedes. The delusion of these two firstborns. No, you morons — it’s an Ami-driven Khyber, and no, the AC will not be switched on until we’ve hit Margalla Road, so just face it.
- Saira’s job was to ensure they didn’t overextend their privileges. I was the watchdog — making sure the lights were switched off at night.
- Then we got robbed. They took all our Black Label. We didn’t even drink, so why us? Because we were poor now, and we barely had the means to guard what little we had. That summer robbery humiliated us in ways we didn’t have the language to discuss. So we didn’t.
- Daily pocket money was about ten rupees. I got so used to it that, years later in London, my daily pocket money was still ten pounds. Inflation of geography, not mindset.
- When it was just the three of us, we’d sleep together in the AC wala kamra. No overextension. This is how the nights would go.
- Ami tells me to get whatever I like from Bakewell, but I ask her to give me a fifty-rupee note instead of ten. Because I have self-respect too. I promise Ami, I’ll bring the change back.
I honestly did not feel humiliated in those years. I knew we had no choice but to readjust to a new life — new budgets, new limits. It was our secret, and for a few months, even Tariq and Farzana were kept sheltered from it.
I miss those days. We learned how to be happy even when finances were tight. How else does one learn those life lessons? Money comes and goes, but these honestly wonderful moments won’t come back.
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