They say home is where the heart is, and I couldn’t agree more! Living in Lahore again after a gap of six long years, I now realise how much I have truly missed this beautiful city. Along with ‘better opportunities’, the package called ‘moving abroad’ comes with an unasked-for yet essential component called homesickness -- a certain amount of nostalgia is to be expected for the homeland left behind.

I traded Lahore’s leafy boulevards for a quiet Floridian town surrounded by blue waters and white sand beaches. I know, Florida is a hot (pun intended) tourist destination all year around but for someone like me who has always been shaded by the over-arching green branches of the trees of Lahore, Florida’s glittering beaches could never be the most peace-inspiring of places.

Time changes everything and cityscapes are generally the biggest indicators of an ever-evolving society. Lahore too has changed. Cruising down main thoroughfares is now something Lahorites recall fondly -- the gun-toting military men peering into car windows are visible reminders of the security situation. Concrete road blocks everywhere dictate travel time in Lahore today. Some of the oldest and leafiest trees on the Canal are gone.

It saddens me to realise that my kids will probably never get to see why their mother considers Lahore’s Mall Road more beautiful than Paris’s famed Champs-Elysees. The developers of Main Boulevard seem to be having a desert themed decade-old palm trees sway in the light breeze as more and more designer outlets spring up like mushrooms on either side of the road.

All four directions leading off from Hussain Chowk, M.M Alam Road in particular, seem to be in a race to emulate Las Vegas’s famous Strip. Brand consciousness is at an obvious high, with schools and even doctors vying for a piece of the exclusivity pie. Road rage is as pronounced as the increasing number of cars on the roads. But still, in spite of the trappings of an expanding metropolis, Lahore somehow feels like a more tolerant space than it was half a decade ago.

Incidents of governmental apathy and judicial silence aside, the city is still a relatively safe and happy place to be. Extremism is projected internationally as part of our national psyche yet every educational and professional establishment in Lahore has an ever-increasing number of confident women. Difference of opinion is welcomed as an initiative for excited debate and not angry altercations. The ratio of jean-clad and dupatta-wearing women does not seem to bother anybody anymore.

Parks and green belts are being integrated into urban localities at the same rate as shopping malls. A higher number of parents, both rich and poor, can be seen investing time and affection in their children at parks, play places and kids-centric weekly workshops.

Every week, Lahore is host to a cultural event attended by a diverse crowd. Even the Lahori palate has become more diversified! Speaking of food, I am happy to report that early morning nashta rituals and late night snack cravings can still be indulged in without much trepidation.

Despite many markers of the scourge of modernity, Lahore is still the most charming of cities for me. The monsoon season is almost upon us and I could not be more excited to watch the trees of my beloved city turn bright green. Add to it the prospect of spending the month of Ramzan in Lahore after a gap of six years and I feel blessed already.

To borrow a maxim from the all-invasive social media, ‘Haters gonna hate but Lahorites gotta live!’