House shifting is a nightmare that is bound to make you laugh when you wake up in the new home. I shifted five times in my life and every experience was one of a kind. Here’s why:
My Grandmother’s Death
The first time is usually the one that most Pakistani kids go through. I had to leave my grandmother a.k.a. Bibi’s house when she died and my chacha decided to own the house. My mother was definitely the happiest, I, on the other hand, was going to miss my cousins who were probably happier than my mother.
House Got Demolished
The second house where I spent a decade of my life was also not the last one. The owner had his chacha kick him out and instead of leaving the house, he decided to demolish it. Smart, wish I did it too. I was an only child for sixteen years and exactly when I had to do house shifting, my baby sister decided to come. My mother, three months pregnant, moved to a new place which was luckily just a street away.
Moving Out in June
Two years later, another house another story. The landlord, a banker whose wife left him ten years back and moved to England, decided to remarry. The house had one room on the top floor, and the lower portion had three rooms where I dwelled. And because it was the month of June and this time it was the owner’s wife who was pregnant, guess whose turn it was to do house shifting again?
Yes, you got it right.
Marriage But Not My Own
House number four it was and right after one year, the owner got his son married. Same story, time for house hunting again. But why are people obsessed with marriage?
This time, I left after six months because honestly who could survive in a place where if your friends come, there’s an investigation about almost everything. And if you refuse to say Salaam or carry a dupatta, the darkest corner of hell is reserved especially for you. God Forbid if you forget the keys in July’s heat, you’ll have to wait outside on the road and the door might only open after ringing the bell 50 times. I don’t even know the owner’s name so every time I recall the sweet memories of house number five, I only say one name i.e. Auntie CCTV.
Sixth house? Well, now it’s your turn to share your house-moving tales.
Cover Image via digitalspy.com
Author: Nisma Saeed
Instgaram Handle: nismasaeed_