Syra Amir loves travelling the world. So it helps that she works as a photojournalist for a popular travel magazine.
So when she accidentally selects the wrong destination when booking a flight, she decides to go with the flow and travel to this pla...
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Syra
When I was younger, just beside my bedroom, my parents had created a double room as my 'play area'. It had a pretend kitchen, a reading corner, an art corner, and a whole sections filled with all things Barbie- from dolls, to doll house to cars and planes.
There were mornings when Mum used to find me in the princess tent, asleep on it's soft fluffy rug, clutching my teddy.
There were afternoons when I sat sulking in there when Dad had to postpone plans for our days out, and he came to placate me.
There were times when Ifra came over, all dressed up for a tea party. While our mothers had real tea downstairs, we had fake teas, sometimes accompanied by a chocolate chip cookie each, or a cupcake- depending on how generous our mothers were feeling.
And then there were days when my cousins were over, and Harris (Ifra's brother, a year older than me) and Suleyman Bhai used to barge into my room and created chaos, until our oldest cousins Mikael Bhai and Farhaan Bhai used to drag them out of there and tell them off.
It was my world, that room. The kingdom of a cherished princess.
In fact, it was in the very room, as I was helping Mum pack away remnants of my childhood, that I had realised that I was experiencing my first period.
And as I got ready for my date with my husband, I glanced around at my new world, my new bedroom. This wasn't just my own safe haven now, it was one that I shared with Musa. It was ours. It was funny how life changed.
I dressed in black skinny jeans with a dark blue knee-length floral dress, with a black lace dupatta. It wasn't fancy, but Shaila had agreed it was a good outfit for a dinner/film with my husband. The high heel sandals gave it a date-ish look, I believed. Brushing my hair, I sprayed on my perfume and grabbed my small black chain-strap bag and headed out of the room. Musa was going to be here any minute.
As I arrived downstairs, I made my way into the kitchen, where Shaila was teaching my mother-in-law how to bake something that smelled incredibly delicious. "Itni achi khusbhoo!"
*"What a wonderful scent!"
They both looked at me, surprised.
"I was showing Mamma how to make brownies." Shaila explained.
"Bachay, kahin jaa rahi ho aap?" Aunty asked. I noticed how she put in more effort to speak Urdu around me, since I still struggled understanding Punjabi a little.
*"Dear, are you going somewhere?"
"Ji, woh Musa aanay walay hain. Mujhe bahar lekar jaa rahe hain." I replied, cheeks warm.
