Parents in England, one brother with them,
all three with bellies full of my Amma's food.
Another brother in Dublin, on a dinner date with his lady.
The last brother in Mechanicsburg, celebrating Labor Day
complete with a a pool-side BBQ with his new
family: his wife, son, and in-laws.
Me: Alone, hungry, with cold feet, in an only semi-unpacked apartment.
My phone is glued to my ear; I'm on hold with a British
Airways representative. He keeps failing at flirting with me.
His Desi-British accent is making me laugh and cringe, while
I am dreaming about my next getaway.
"See you in Islamabad," he eagerly says.
"Yup, see you there," I reply, while counting down the days until I can go home.