Unplanned Stays...

What to say...
I have overstayed here. I came to my hometown to meet my sister-in-law, who came from the US, and also to visit my parents again. Last time, due to the business of Eid, I couldn't stay long. Then my husband's leave ended, and we went back to the our current place of residence - a small village like town. This time, I traveled by public transport to meet my sister-in-law. The plan was to stay for a few days, but as they say, what’s meant to be will happen.

So, it happened that my children and I needed to get our passports made here. Why? I will tell you in a few days...

Last Monday, the children and I, accompanied by my father-in-law, visited the executive passport office. This was to avoid the hassle of long lines and queues. They charge extra at the executive office, but I had no other choice.

My father-in-law is old, and he couldn't manage the crowded normal passport office in this sweltering summer heat. But there were quite long queues and a little too many people applying for passport. I mean where is everyone going? Are they all leaving the country for some trip or forever...

And that construction zone in the city hit us hard again. The office is quite far from my in-laws' home. To make matters worse, when we reached somewhere near the office, we found out that several roads near Walton Road were closed. Poor Google Maps couldn't help—neither it could understand the road closures nor anything else.

When we finally reached the office, we were left with only 45 minutes to do everything—from step one to the last step.

We started with filling out the challan and then I applied for fast-track tokens. The form mentioned it would take two days for the passports to deliver, but when I asked the staff, they said it would take five working days.

However, today is the sixth working day, and it's been eight days in total, yet there's no sign of the passports. Well, there's not much more I can say about this now. But I am kind of furious that they charged us extra fees for the fast track processing of the passports.

So the current situation is that the children and I are still out of town. Although this is our hometown, we don't live here permanently. My eldest daughter's school has already started, and every day I receive a message from the school about her absence.

What can we do? Meanwhile, since we are here, we go out somewhere every day, sometimes for a little outing.

My sister-in-law and I take turns driving, and we have six children with us—three of hers and three of mine.

If I am being honest, I'm enjoying this break from the normal routine.

But now I'm starting to miss my home, especially my room. As I mentioned to @weisser-rabe the other day, you can have many houses, but there's only one home. @don-t is of the opposite opinion...their perspective is valid, but the peace and comfort I get in my own home, I can't find anywhere else.

Going out and exploring has its place. But the peace I get at night with a cup of tea, sitting with my husband in front of the TV, is unmatched by any adventure in the world.

I think human beings are inherently ungrateful, or rather, a constant routine makes one feel restless.

But I have never been bothered by staying at home. Yes, sometimes a change is nice, but it has never reached a point where I feel distressed about being at home for so many days.

Going out has its benefits or perhaps its drawbacks. There are all kinds of people in the outside world. My hometown is a metropolitan city, in contrast to my place of residence. So when I go out, I see a strange mix. On one hand, there are high-end restaurants filled with people who seem to have all the money in the world. On the other, there are helpless people wandering the streets. I see poor people riding motorbikes, probably exhausted from their day-long struggle to make a living, heading home. Their faces are weary, worn out from the heat, and filled with frustration.

When I think about these people, suddenly everything else in the world feels insignificant. Honestly, even high-end shopping malls start to seem disheartening. But then again, human nature is quite peculiar.

Despite these feelings, we try to move forward. We make an effort to help those working in parking lots or as guards outside stores, tipping them as charity when we can. Seeing the lower middle class, though, really tugs at the heartstrings. Their struggles can make one's heart feel heavy.

If it were up to me, every hardworking person in the world would enjoy the luxuries of these high-end malls and restaurants at least once in their lives. No one would be forced to travel by motorbike in this scorching heat, no elderly person would have to sell vegetables under the blazing sun, and no one would be in distress. But what can I do? I don't have the means to make such changes. But the naive me can't let go of this thought...