Home is Lahore, the pearl of the Punjab, my birthplace. Home is the sound the leaves make when the breeze rushes through them; it is the stillness in the air before the monsoon laves the land. Home is my cousins, home is Pakola, home is endless novels, bought from Readings, devoured on lazy afternoons as the ceiling fan stirs the hot air around the room. Home is my grandmother’s roast chicken, it is lemon tarts and chicken patties from Shezan, it is the best steak I’ve ever tasted at Café Zouk. Home is the nehr (canal), it is Badshahi Masjid, it is Model Town and Defense and Lahore Cantt. Home is cursing the country’s so- called leaders as you drown in a thick layer of sweat, waiting for the power to come back on. Home is the stories my aunts share, the stories the earth tells as you sit on the porch.

Home is Dubai, with its shimmering skyscrapers and warm weather. Home is returning to the apartment on a humid night, covered in a fine layer of sand. Home is central air conditioning, countless icy drinks and never, ever opening the windows during the summer months. Home is the friends I’ve had for almost fifteen years, home is them coming over the morning after I’ve landed and our traditional dinner at Nando’s or Pizza Hut. Home is us sharing everything we couldn’t say over text, or Facebook, or Skype. Home is lying on my queen- sized bed with my friends who are closer than sisters, noting how we’ve changed over the last 10 months since we saw each other. Home is my parents. Home is my dad’s famous buttered egg, my mom’s biryani and her curry and ‘chunky chicken’, it is the blue- tiled kitchen and the sound of the lock turning in the front door. It is our fax machine turning on after our home phone rings thrice, even though I’ve told my parents a million times that this is the 21^st century and nobody uses fax anymore. Home is watching the news with my dad and taking naps with my mom in the afternoons. Home is the stories the photos of Dubai tell, the way the desert has been transformed into an oasis.

Home is Oakville, it is wooden floors and the fireplace. Home is hating high school but loving the friends I’ve made, it is Tim Horton’s and Lakeshore and kebab rolls from Silver Spoon. Home is endless hours spent on the brown suede couch, putting my feet on the edge of the coffee table even though my mom has told me not to. Home is not wanting to get out of bed in the morning because I know the floor is going to be so cold. Home is the Edward Cullen poster on my closet door, watching me as I sleep. Home is my best friend living next door. It is the afternoons spent in her basement, her dog lying in my lap, a Disney film providing background noise to our endless chatter. Home is nights spent overthinking conversations and texts and jokes. Home is feeling as though, at sixteen, I’ve experienced every emotion on the spectrum. It is sleeping in my mom’s bed, too scared to sleep in my own, because Mal’akh from The Lost Symbol haunts my dreams. Home is the stories the town tells, the suburban comfort that we were so privileged to experience.

Home is Vancouver. Home is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been, it is sunsets at Wreck Beach and English Bay and Spanish Banks. Home is the chicken platter at Al Basha and the Pineapple Freeze at Booster Juice. Home is staying up till 4am with my friends, doing nothing in particular. It is turning off my shrieking alarm in the morning, deciding to give myself the day off. Home is UBC, it is mapping out every inch of this sprawling campus with my own two feet. Home is the rain that just keeps on coming. Home is where I realized that English was my true passion, it is where I left behind my dreams of a degree in Biology. Home is where I’ve planned out my future. Home is the stories the city tells about its past, the pride Vancouver takes in its heritage.

In my twenty years of life, I’ve realized that home is not a house. Home is the people you love, it is the moments you cherish, and it is the places you’ll never forget. Home is a feeling.

Works Cited

“Lahore.” Punjab Portal. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

“Pakola Ice Cream Soda.” Mehran Bottlers (PVT) Limited. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

“Shezan Sweets N Bakers.” Facebook. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

“Welcome to Cafe Zouk.” Cafe Zouk. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

“Lahore Canal.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

“Badshahi Mosque, Lahore.” Sacred Destinations. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

“Zachary Solomon.” The Dan Brown Wiki. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.

Al Basha. N.p., n.d. Web. 4 June 2015.