We reached Karachi after a twelve-hour long flight. Dadi's right-hand man Abu Bakr had arranged for us to be picked up directly from the airport and taken to the village just on the outskirts of the city.
I had expected the city to change over the years for the better but Karachi was always surprising me. Things looked cleaner but only slightly, sure there were new bins that were installed along the pathways so that people would throw trash in it but they were overflowing with heaps of rubbish that no one had bothered to pick up it seemed in weeks. The stray dogs had multiplied, somehow always stayed the same light brown colour with the exception of one or two black ones. The street vendors, the beggars, the colourful rickshaws, the buses with passengers hanging off the door handle and seated atop the roofs (it was shocking and exhilarating to just witness these things that were considered normal in this part of the world with one's eyes ). Life in Karachi was messed up, it was weird, it was unique and I did not know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
I looked around in the car all my siblings were lost in thought staring outside taking in the unexpected evocative vibes they got from their surroundings
After what seemed like an eternity of annoying bus sirens and unwanted stares that pierced through our car's windows, we had pulled up in front of an old water feature of some sort that was bone dry and marked the entrance to the pathway that led up to the Haweli. Before when Dadi was younger and her health was still unaffected by her constant shisha smoking habit she saw to it that the garden and all the plants around the house were always well maintained. She didn't give two shits about the rat dying under her bed but she was always concerned about the unwanted weed in her flower pot. The Topiary done by her Gardner was always up to her standards.
Now everything had grown way out of proportion the weeds had taken over the flower pots and the once gorgeous Topiary shrubs had turned from graceful swans and angels into demonic figures with horns and tails. It didn't help when the perilous landscape led up to a hostile looking building that my Dadi had called home for nearly 82 years.
'I fucking hate it here' Rayan broke the silence that had remained for the entirety of the car ride.
I looked around; all my siblings bore dread and annoyance upon their faces.