Foreign

I have grown foreign to my home country Pakistan, because after my husband died, I shifted here to be with my children. Every year I go for a visit to settle the various issues which arises during my absence from there. I feel lost, because the place I lived is no longer the same. I feel frustration in dealing with the problems I face during my stay there.

Roads are blocked. You can’t pass, unless you show your ID half a dozen times, and answer the oft repeated question as to why you are passing through that particular locality. The short journey which should have taken only a few minutes stretches into hours. The roads are not built to the exceedingly high number of vehicles on it. One is always bumper to bumper with the car ahead, and behind. No traffic rules are followed.

In the two months I spent there, I only visited once my older brother, and that the day I missed my plane. Visiting Lala required herculeous efforts in getting to his home, and they were really beyond me.

Then the price of items like fruit, and vegetables never fail to surprise me. I’m told this comes from India, this is from Kabul, or Kandahar, or Ceylon. So what are we doing? Twiddling our thumbs. The cost of a mere five yards of cloth (I require for a shalwar, and shirt) runs into thousands. I’m not sitting on a treasure trove of unending money. How does one exist? Please let me regain my sanity….

The price of everyday items have gone up beyond one can realistically apprehend.

The ultimate annoying thing is the litter everywhere, and the ugly markings, and advertisements on the walls. It makes it so hideous. Why aren’t those punished, or fined?

Foreign

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/foreign/

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