When I walk on the cold streets of Germany, my hands stuffed into my pockets, I think about my father’s sweet shop back home in Karachi. I’m filled with that familiar smell of ghee and sugar, the chatter of customers, and the clinking of trays with tasty and savoury laddoos, the memories flood in, warm and vivid.
For as long as I can remember, my father has had this small shop in Saddar. It was not some big fancy place, just a simple, honest business passed down by my grandfather. It is the kind of place where people come from the neighbourhood for every Eid, every wedding and every good new moment.
Growing up, I was surrounded by laddoos, barfi, gulab jamuns, and jalebis spinning in the hot oil. I remember sitting behind the counter after school, doing my homework while serving customers. Something Abbu would let me pack the sweets, which I must say takes some time to learn, neatly wrapping them in the thin white paper and tying them with a string. Abbu always said that presentation matters as much as taste.
Our shop is more than just a business; it is part of the community. People come here not just to buy mithai but to chat, share stories, ask for advice and enjoy the company. I can still picture how Abbu would stand behind the counter, offering an extra piece to a child, smiling or refusing money from an old uncle who was in hardship.
Now, I’m in Germany, thousands of miles away from home, studying data science in a language that still ties my tongue. A few evenings, when I sit eating plain supermarket bread, I remember the rich, warm taste of fresh jalebis straight out of the pan. No bakery can match that here, of course. Whenever I video call home, Ammi makes sure to show me the shop” “Look, your father just made fresh laddus!” she says, panning the camera over the trays. Abbu, shy as ever on camera, gives a wave and says, “When will you come and help me again?” Very soon is the only thing I can reply.
Because I’m here now, building a future. Yet, a part of me will always be there in that little shop on the bustling streets of Karachi, surrounded by the scent of sugar and cardamom, where every piece carries a little bit of love.