Isn’t it amazing how differently adults and children think?
When I was visiting Islamabad recently, I was complaining about how dusty everything was and how the power extensions kept burning up and the rooster next door kept crowing night and day and how the next door neighbors liked to play cricket on their terrace at night and just how noisy it was.
Meanwhile my son was having the time of his life. He absolutely loved the house, the fact that he could shower without a tub, that there were so many mysterious dark nooks and corners to explore and everything was so compact. And the staircase was his absolutely favorite. He would make several trips up and down the steps carrying either the “jharoo” (traditional broom) or a “gao takiya” (a large oval-shaped cushion) ignoring my nervous pleas. He didn’t seem to mind the blaring music coming from the house next door in the middle of the night either as he slept soundly after a hard day’s work. Nor did he bother about the power cuts or the ever running toilet. It was also quite fascinating for him that big black spiders came running out of their hiding places every now and then.
It used to be a difficult task to get him out of the house because he thought we might not come back there. He identified our house with the “Real Pakistan” and until we didn’t get back, he thought we were not in Pakistan.
We were talking with his Grandma on Skype and he just wanted to somehow get inside the laptop screen and go back to his “Real Pakistan”.