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Wednesday July 1, 2026 – Karachi The midnight milestone has passed, and we are officially into the second half of the year. The heavy fog outside hasn't cleared, but the morning light always brings a little more clarity. I decided to pull out a piece of textured, cream-colored paper from my old sketch drawer. I want to spend these next few days writing a heartfelt letter to Mama, something she can keep long after her 49th birthday on July 6th passes. Sitting here, trying to put my feelings into words, I realize how much she shields us from the weight of this city. I started drafting the first few lines: Dear Mama, Happy 49th Birthday. When I look out the window at Karachi today, with its crowded streets and constant noise, I realize that my true sense of home isn't a geographic location at all, it is simply wherever you are. Thank you for being the quiet space in the middle of all this chaos... Writing this makes the security alerts on my phone feel miles away. It gives me a strange sense of control. The world outside can keep spinning out of its grand geopolitical arguments, but inside these four walls, we are just a family holding onto each other. I'm going to add a few lines every day until Monday, capturing the small, beautiful things about her that the rest of the world never gets to see.