It’s been quite lovely to be back in Islamabad. I had fretted through packing suitcases back in Singapore and grumbled (inwardly) during the flight. I quaked when I saw the amount of vacuuming and tidying that I had to do once I hit Pakistan. I am still bleary-eyed and bone-weary and miss my family in Singapore… but now that I am more or less settled in, I have to say, I’m quite alright really.

There, I’ve said it. I am fine with being back.

Yes, we’ve had mountains of laundry from the trip and still more from the layers of warm clothes we go through each day… and yes, we’ve had runny noses and chilled toes, but seriously, we are blessed in ways we can’t enumerate, so we’ve more or less gone through our issues with winter with smiles.

Our shambolic living area was given a makeover in our absence. The Dad Man, Dadi and Anees pulled out all the stops and gave us a special kind of homecoming, ma shaa Allah. Marz and Bear have their room back, now that the library has been moved (again), so they are happy campers. We miss the obstacle course of books and desks… Bibliomaniacs that we are, we’ll always crave the feeling of being surrounded by books. However, it was high time to admit that the Lightbulb Lab was staging a coup and bent on taking over our living quarters. Alhamdulillah, the Dad Man had room in the office space he’s renting, so the books have a new home. We still have a large book case in our hallway and we visit the Lightbulb Lab often, so we still have books — just enough so our compulsion for a read is satisfied, but just not that many that we feel like we can’t breathe or move an inch! The glass extension/room is still a work in progress, but the leaks have been plugged up and it’s decent enough that I no longer call it names or pretend it isn’t there ;) There is potential for craftiness, I tell you… in shaa Allah!

Is that hope and cheer you’re hearing from me? Well, I’m tired of being the bitter old crone, so yes, You bet!

We’ve been cramming lots homeschool-wise. We’ve HAD to after our last trip and in view of upcoming trips. I’ve gone back to ‘school’ too and am taking a few courses. It has been a humbling experience — I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer, so it has been a big struggle. All said and done though, it’s ALL good. I’ve been reminded of how little I know and how much harder I need to work. I’ve also been reminded of how tough it must be for my children and how I should be kinder to them.

I have a few resources to share, but Peep has been up to his shenanigans again. Last night, it was this:

Never… NEVER… leave the boy alone with a box of tissues… Or in today’s case, a jar of ink.

I wish you happy sunshiney days!

There is a definite chill in the air these days. We used to stumble bleary-eyed and half asleep to the bathroom to make wudhu for Fajr, but are starting to brace ourselves mentally every morning now, just so the cold floor doesn’t rudely shock us out of our stupor. It feels like we are rushing a great deal more, trying to do more… trying to finish all we can before sunset, which is eating into our days earlier than we are used to.

Winter in Islamabad is many things to me…

It is a time when we draw closer as a family. We try to conserve energy by turning on as few heaters as we possibly can and end up congregating in the same room for hours on end. We do our studies, work, crafts and reading huddled around the heater. Chores are rushed through so we can go back to the warmth. What ensues is often a great deal of clutter, but we bear with it because this is just how winter is in our small place.

It is steaming pots of tea. We have been sampling raspberry, blackcurrant, jasmine and Moroccan mint, but nothing beats good old fashioned chai. My mother-in-law makes the best Kashmiri (pink) tea — she would simmer the leaves for hours to get a thick deep purple brew which would turn a delightful shade of rose with milk. Delicately flavoured with cardamom and crushed pistachios, it is really class in a cup.

It is huddling under layers of quilts reading books together. We’ve read a huge assortment of chapter books in this snuggly way. Past winters’ notable reads include Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, The Watsons Go To Birmingham – 1963 by Christopher Paul Curtis, Marita Conlon-McKenna’s Children of the Famine trilogy, Stories of the of the Prophets and the Seerah of the Prophet sallallaahu ‘alayhi wa sallam. I think sometimes the girls learn more and best in this way — when we leave out the pencils and paper and simply reflect and discuss.

It is delicious, hearty soups that are lovingly prepared. The girls love Lamya’s Soup, which takes a great deal of preparation but is totally worth the effort. As we enjoy the kitchen’s toasty comfort, we become more mindful about how blessed we really are. We realise that we can never thank Allah enough.

It is blissfully running out to the terrace for little picnics and play when the sun shines. The warm hours are short so we must act fast. My children love the novelty of studying and lunching outdoors. The crows that frequent the fig and jaman trees in our yard hover close, hoping that we will leave them some morsels. We do, but they only swoop down and take them when the air starts to bite and we return indoors to the warmth of our blankets and more of each other’s company.

He was just a wee little thing when we found him waltzing into a fast food joint. He didn’t have a mum and the waiters urged us to take him home, for they had seen too many cats being run over in their car park. He was such a an adorable creature that it didn’t take much to persuade the girls. I, on the other hand, was hesitant – I remembered being devastated at six when my own pet kitten died and I didn’t want my girls to go through such grief. Just a year earlier, Marz had taken a liking to a stray cat and fed it. When it died suddenly, she cried for days.

Still, I couldn’t ignore the fact that this little kitten was too young to be wandering around. His scruffy and emaciated appearance clearly showed that he was on his own. We would take him in as an act of kindness, but we would not get too sentimental, I decided. We bundled him into the car and took him home.

When we arrived home, the girls’ grand-uncle warned that the neighbourhood cats would terrorize him, so we took him to the upstairs terrace where he would be safe from the larger neighbourhood strays. We gave him milk and bedded him down for the night. That was enough, I said. I didn’t want everyone getting too emotionally attached. However, a storm was brewing and the little mite, horribly terrified by the sounds of thunder, began to mew piteously.

“The poor thing is frightened. We must comfort him,” the Dad Man tsked.

The girls agreed, “He is just a little baby, isn’t he?”

The little orphan we named Rocket had clearly enveigled his way into our hearts and so, received complete attachment parenting treatment from his new mums, Mars and Bear.

We bathed Rocket the next day and after gently drying him with a hair-dryer and fluffing out his fur, found that he was quite a good-looking cat ma shaa Allah. He had a cheeky little face, a wickedly long tail and well-proportioned ears. Rocket was so little that initially, he had difficulty drinking from his dish. So the girls and the Dad Man fed him with a bottle…

The Dad Man helped the girls feed Rocket. He was a feisty thing and gained weight shortly after living with us. We continued to keep him upstairs after a relative warned us about how the territorial strays in the neighbourhood would finish him off.

Rocket was even lullabied to sleep by his little mummies :)

The girls had Rocket duty every day – they fed him and played with him, without fuss or complaint. They even cleaned up his messes with good humour. Rocket had a few unusual tendencies – he would walk to heel, greet us at the gate whenever we returned from an outing and stand on his hind legs to put put his paws on our thighs when we sat down by him… He even frequently followed us when we walked to the market and park. It was a running joke that we actually had a dog trapped in a cat’s body!

He was quite a cheeky little thing and often mewed for the girls to come out and play with him.

The little charmer was eventually big enough for the big wide world. He took up residence in the compound and had a bed at the porch. Initially, Rocket had a hard time dealing with the neighbourhood cats. They were much older – there is one so enormous we call him “The Beast” – and very territorial. Young Rocket would emerge from their altercations with numerous injuries. That winter, we had to let him in the house many times to recover. However, he soon grew into a large and sleek cat and became quite a force to be reckoned with.

Rocket lying on the Dad Man’s lap while he worked on the laptop.
He had beautifully thick and long fur – Mars is convinced he has a bit of Somali in him.

It was obvious that my plan for us not to be emotionally attached had backfired. It is hard to toughen yourself against a cat who comes over and sits on your lap or who bounds over to you with delight when you return home. The girls spoiled him silly with toys and affection; Anees would save him bones and leftover meat and even Dadi, who claimed to dislike cats, bought Rocket a cushion for his bed. Rocket was evidently a precious member of the family.

One morning, some three months ago, the girls called out in the morning, “Rocket! Foodie!”, but he didn’t come running over like he normally would. We weren’t all too alarmed at first – he would sometimes roam around the estate and skip breakfast to return for an early lunch. Days passed though and he was still missing. It just about broke my heart to hear the girls calling out everyday plaintively, “Rocket… Rooockeet! Foodie! Rocket…”

We have cleared out his bed from the porch. but the girls are convinced that he will return one day. I let them go on hoping, because I know how much they cared for him and I don’t want to see them shattered. Deep in my heart, though, I know that he won’t come back. It has been too long for a cat so loving and loyal to have stayed away.

I hadn’t wanted to love Rocket, but he had given my kids a great deal of joy. He taught them about the importance of responsibility, kindness and patience. I miss seeing him lying on his bed and looking in on us by the porch window. I think I’ll always remember him as the mischievous, spritely creature that tore about the place wreaking havoc.

We miss you, boy. Be well, wherever you are.

The entire house has been down with either the ‘flu or allergies – we are not sure which as it is pollen season right now in Islamabad. Apparently, Islamabad is one of the cities that has the highest pollen count in the world. There were high temperatures, blocked noses, sore throats and sore eyes all around. Since I am not native to this place, the changes in seasons have often been hard to bear, but alhamdulillah I am learning to get used to things.

Anyway, with Peep still so small, I haven’t been able to gallivant much with the girls. However, others have stepped in. Their Dadi took them to the village and they got to play and pick berries…

Spring is here! Aren’t these mulberries pretty?

The Dad Man has also been taking them on hikes and trips to the park…

They were pleasantly surprised one day to see tent pegging at the park. This is a competition in which a mounted horseman rides at a gallop and uses a sword or a lance to pierce, pick up, and carry away a small ground target (the tent peg) or a series of small ground targets. It was very crowded, but they did manage to get to catch some of the action and to see one of the horses up close…

As for me, you can probably tell that my contribution to all this activity is to record it via Instagram :) (No, I don’t have an iPhone, I just pinch borrow the Dad Man’s!) Highly addictive business. Other than that, it’s been more home based activities for me like online classes, editing work and the kids’ studies. Pretty mundane maybe, but a bit of normalcy is necessary at times.

I hope you’re all well and having good times :)

Here’s my little Bear… once the baby of the family, she seems to have grown up overnight, ma shaa Allah.

So my smally molly, I love how you comfort me when I get my horrid migraines. I love how you forgive me when my awful temper gets the worst of me and those around me. I love how you like giving people presents and surprises. I love how you find joy and delight in the simplest things. I love how you love Mars and Peep.

In short, I love YOU :)