Because I will forget and I don’t want to.

Random conversation just now.
Nadi: Do you know you came out of Mama’s tummy?
Lily: NO I DIDN’T!!
Nadi: Yes you did. Ask mama.
Lily: Mama Nadir telling lies!!
Me: No it’s true you did. You grew in my tummy then the doctor took you out.
Lily (worriedly): But why did you eat me?

‪#‎becauseyouareyummy‬ ‪#‎nadilily‬ ‪#‎longsummerafternoons‬ ‪#‎summerhols‬

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Maleficent vs Lord Business playing out on my shoulder
(complete with sound effects) is just not conducive to any kind of concept and design work.

#workfromhomewhydontyou #summerhols #nadilily #play #freelancelove

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Way too early morning craft talk today.
Lily: mama will you make me a cutout with the strong glue?
Me: UHU?
Lily (confused and a tad but panicked): Mama it’s me Leila!!

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It was World Day parade today at her school and Leila was- wait for it- a “Pakistani”.
Some gems she has shared with us this week on being one are:
1. Pakistanis only eat chapati.
2. They wear red Kurtas.
3. Only boys are Pakistani. (so in the spirit of the parade, she was a boy today)
4. They talk in “sla-laikumm”
5. They sing the national anthem together when happy.
6. Pakistani’s cousins are from France

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Both kids have declared that it’s “cheating that the REAL heart looks nothing like the drawing heart” and that “it’s not even the right shade of red”.

#reality #nadilily #verylongafternoons #biologyfail

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Hey Leila- why do you want to be an astronaut when you grow up?
Because I want to.
Yes but why an astronaut?
How else will I see the stars Mama?

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warm postings from Karachi

Winter time in Karachi isn’t really winter-the-season time. The weather takes it time in making up its mind and there isn’t a marked change in attire- light wraps and on a more nippy day, a sweater of sorts at the most. We usually only get Real Winter for a few days, and then, everyone rushes out in their lovely smart jackets and wraps and boots to celebrate the deviance. No, winter in Karachi is definitely more of a feeling. Hope, happiness, laziness, friends family and good, all mixed up and tumble dried.

As December rolls around, there is a festivity in the air. Despite the fact that work and school is in progress till atleast the third week, the holiday mode is infectious. The twinkling lights and Christmas decor in shop windows help- yes our Enid Blyton and Archie comics childhood does link holiday season with snow and Santa. What also intensifies the joyous anarchy in the air in terms of work timelines and bedtimes, is the avalanche of friends and family that starts arriving for their annual Karachi fix. Late night chat and chai sessions- a long dinner grabbed with a friend while catching up on the last two years of life, park plans with the many kids, coffee plans with the old comfies, discovering a new breakfast nook with the love- all have a sense of lazy fun and long days all playing to the music of winter in Karachi.

I am in a super illustratey mood these days. Loving the raw marker feel that has Nadi enraptured these days. The roughness of the stroke the loss of details are all qualities in these one-minute sketches that are in line with the current mood of simply letting things roll as they will, without a need to examine, think or control.  Want to make tiny little drawings of everything to capture the feeling in the air. Truly feeling the joy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 8: childhood WAS an adventure.

In the afternoon when everyone was asleep- remember how everyone used to sleep in the afternoons once upon a time?- all of us would stage-whisper together through our re-enactments, sitting on the floor infront of Dada Daddos’ room, trying to catch the whiff of AC snaking out from underneath their door, as we played in the dappled sunshine streaming through the huge window in the lounge.

Some days we would reenact entire Amitabh movie scenes out. I was always Amitabh – possibly by virtue of being eldest one present at the time- and Satte pe Satta was a house favourite. Other days we would all be deeply engrossed in the intricacies of Snakey, Snakey, Cinderella or Enid Blyton- playing out some Famous Five adventure on the “beramda”, complete with make-shift chair caravans and imaginary packed lunches, which of course included the famous “hard boiled eggs, tinned sardines and sticky ginger cake with lemondae” We were nothing if not through in our details.

The afternoon belonged to us exclusively, a childrens’ only time in a world filled with grown up rules. We would climb to the top of the jaali, using the railing as footholds, shimmy up the side of the stairs, hide out in the dusty little nook leading to the “chhatt”. And then as tiredness would start to hit, we would run into our respective parents’ rooms to peer into the tiny refridgerators and gather all the best snacks and tiptoe out to share the loot.

To me, adventure is synonymous with those Karachi summers, where we would run wild and free, and mostly barefoot, sometimes on the roof if it was raining- it always rained madly atleast once on our trips, with water collecting strategically in all the unlevelled areas- or in the garden out front, underneath the big Christmas tree because the little one seemed angry. I remember days spent dashing up and down the driveway on our go-go scooties, thrilling in the dip that came right before the gutter cover, so that not only did you speed up suddenly but the bumpy part that followed shook you to your core before lading you at the far end, in one amazing ride.

I can almost smell the chai signaling an end to the mad afternoons frolics around the house. We would shut the sacred drawing room’s door again, pretending we were never there, pretending to scale the jacquard mountains- pack up any clues that may open a portal into our secret time and then longingly, impatiently, would sit and wait till the next day, when after lunch, our magic time started all over again.