Teentakes

When I think of home, I think of cool gusts, short drives, tall mountains and pine cones. I think of my sister’s sleepy voice, my brother’s laughs and my mother’s concern. I think of a version of myself that thought I was bigger than all of that.

Moving to a different city for university was my own decision. I had never imagined myself going to university in my province, let alone my city. But there was a nagging feeling in my heart, a lack of excitement all through summer break. I had hoped I’d be cured of it when I moved to LUMS (after all it was a version of my dream), but it simply intensified.

My first day in Lahore had been…interesting at best. It had been hot, extremely hot. Never before in my life had I experienced still, humid air in temperatures I was totally unaccustomed to. The heat made me nauseous, the people felt foreign, and the university seemed all too big. But still, I knew my parents were 30 minutes away, so I had nothing to worry about. I avoided thinking of the future, it was a long 24 hours away.

The second day was one I would never like to relive. It was just as hot as the first, and I kept getting lost and losing my way. The heat was killing my appetite and my subpar navigation skills were killing my confidence. And then came the time for my parents to leave.

 I did not cry. I blinked the tears away as I watched them drive away. A few seconds later, a guard yelled at me to move out of the way. And thus, I was alone in an unfamiliar place, a completely alien city. My day was spent blinking most tears away and letting a few escape as I wondered, “How could this city ever feel like mine?”. I felt as though I was a pine tree planted in a mango farm.

It has been a few days since that day. I do not get lost anymore (for the most part), and I do not remain alone out of desperation. I have people I explore campus with, and routes I like. It still feels new, foreign and all too hot, but I’m starting to realize that love for places is built from the experiences one has in those places. And I still have 4 long years to build a life here. Brick by brick, experience by experience. And once this is over, I hope I can look back and think how brave, how terrifying and how worthwhile my journey to and at LUMS has been. But for now, I am still a pine tree, trying to carve my path in a world I am still struggling to adapt to.