Blog Details

Have you ever heard a city talk? Mine does. It laughs, cries, honks, buzzes, and never, ever sleeps.

Welcome to my city—Karachi! The City of Lights. It’s loud, busy, colorful, and full of surprises. From the smoke puffing out of rickshaws to the delicious smell of roadside food and the sparkle of markets open late into the night—this is the Karachi I know and love.

Sometimes, the lights go out. Power outages, or what grown-ups call “load-shedding,” leave neighborhoods in darkness. But not for long! Soon, the sound of generators fills the air. It’s like the whole city refuses to stay quiet. Even the silence is noisy here!

Karachi is crowded—really crowded. It’s packed with people from all kinds of places, with different stories and dreams. Some say the city is too messy or too noisy. But if you look closely, you’ll see its magic hiding in the little things.

It’s in the people.

Everyone in Karachi has a story. Aunties rushing to cook dinner, uncles working extra hours to buy Eid clothes for their kids, students worrying about homework, boys chasing cricket balls, girls exploring the latest fashion trends, and kids (like me!) stuck in traffic and watching the world go by.

Even on buses, people sit on the roof just to get to work or school on time. There are potholes in the roads and sometimes big protests that stop the traffic. These protests are the people’s way of telling the government, “We need gas, water, electricity!”

And guess what? While you’re stuck in that traffic jam, Karachi keeps moving.

When I was younger, I used to look out of the car window and wonder: Where are all these people going? What are their lives like? Sometimes, I made up stories about them in my head—a man who might be a superhero by night, or a girl dreaming of becoming a singer. Each face told a tale I never got to hear.

But that’s Karachi. Always changing. One moment someone is there, and the next, they’re gone. And someone new appears, with a whole new story.

My Karachi isn’t perfect. But it’s real, it’s alive, and it’s mine.