In 8 days, René, Minal and I will fly to Karachi so we can hang out in the heat, get replenished by family love, and night-time sea-breeze. I am so ready to leave these borders. There is a jaded exhaustion that I feel just by being in one space for a long time. Houston is a city that has been good to me. But today I feel ready for change. Five weeks in Karachi is a start, but hopefully, there is more change down the road.

Every time Minal sees an airplane, she says: “Daddy’s in the airplane. He’s going to Karachi to see Nani.” When I ask who else is on the plane, she tells me that both she and I are on the plane that we will see her Beena Khala and cousin Maha in Karachi too.

Today, on our way back from her pre-school, she says: “I am ready to go to Karachi.” In her toddler language, the word ‘Karachi’ sounds like “crunchy” and it makes me laugh.

She was on the other side of the world last year and the year before—two times before in her short life—and she still remembers the fresh balai cream that she ate with her grandfather. We are ready for change, and while Karachi offers heat and electric outages (as often as four times in one night), I am certain that I will get replenished. There is something about Karachi’s dense crowds and a closer connection to the world that I find irreplaceable.

Today’s blog entry is inspired by JP, my Houston neighbor, who rolled down Jefferson Street and came over to help me take ownership of my blog. “It’s not daily,” I tell him. “But I can always try.”

Thank you, JP.