Gold-Rimmed Glasses
It was a summer of introductions and new concepts. My first summer in Pakistan. Everyone was talking about the heat and how uncomfortably hot it would be for us newcomers. Relatives flooded through the gates – unknown aunts and never-heard-about uncles, cousins who somehow shared a facial feature here and there – all crowding round in happiness, tight embraces and sloppy kisses, their faces shining with joy and love. An old friend of my grandma’s was sitting in the lounge chatting to my mother whilst little kids ran in...
