Port of embarkation back to reality: Islamabad.

Having arrived back to the modern conveniences of having a subway station just five minutes away, I can conclude, brings not much of a comfort to dwell upon. Much as I had yearned a certain trace of familiarity and modernity (amidst the frustration of loadshedding and bathing in freezing cold ground water drawn from the intermittently working motor pump), now all that's left is a quiet melancholy of being "home". 

On top of this, what greeted me were the lamenting voices of individuals strained under rising living costs and job market competition, a mother who whines about hiking utility bills and the returning worry about the GPA that supposedly isn't high enough to earn me a postgraduate degree. Just yesterday, the cab uncle who was driving me to school was making pointed remarks at how this country does not appear to be a viable living (a proper quality life) environment in the long run. Then, these articles (links below) came up, which compelled me to rethink what had been happening over the two weeks since I stepped back into this dreaded country.
 Slavery in the City
My so-called life as an intern at Merrill Lynch 

Certainly holding a well-paying and dignified job is an attractive prospect. But with the ultimate monetary pay-off in mind, it is not difficult to question if the sacrifice is really worth the while. However, what is clear is the reality that lives often fall victim to mismanaged systems governed by the few at the top who are only preoccupied with allaying their personal desires, and that these cursed systems are difficult for mere commoners to escape from.

All the thinking and attempts to focus have led to the pining reminiscence of travel freedom. Even internship did not seem so much a hassle when performing a beloved job. What seems now like a three-month euphoria is only briefly documented in pictorial form, summarized into one nerve-racking rock-climbing experience that yielded the mediocre panorama below.