I grew up in the Old City, 2 lanes behind a bangle shop. We lived above a tailor.
Now when I come home from Khobar, I stay at my brother's flat in Gachibowli. It has AC in every room.
My parents' house has 2 AC rooms and my father sleeps in one of them with the door shut.
So I get a lift, a gym downstairs, and wide roads that look like a different country.
The first 3 days I love it. Quiet mornings, a proper parking spot, a coffee shop I can walk to.
On day 4 I wake up at 5 and listen for the milk man, the bangle shutters, a scooter horn. Nothing.
I take a cab to my parents' place just to sit on the step outside. My mother thinks I'm unwell.
She said, you have a nice flat there, why come here? I said, I miss the noise.
Last time I went to see my old school friend Sajid, who still lives 3 lanes from our house.
He sleeps with the window open and says the noise doesn't bother him anymore. I sat in his room for an hour.
The horns outside were so loud I lost track of what he was saying twice and just nodded.
He said I'd gone soft, and he's probably right. He also said I'd forgotten how to cross a road.
I did forget. I stood at the edge of a lane for a full minute while a scooter waited for me.
The man on it said, come, come, uncle. I wasn't sure which of us was more embarrassed about it.
I'm back next summer for my brother's housewarming. I'll stay at his place again, I think.
Where do you stay when you visit, and does the old place still feel like home to you?