Rummaging through a pile of books for my Mac Book Pro on the side of my bed, I struggle to wake up, my eyes still heavy and closed, my mind still sleepy and disoriented. It is five in the morning. The alarm clock has already gone off to remind me to get ready for work. Once my hand recognises its surface, I place the sleek, lightweight laptop on my chest, lifting up the display screen from its base. It comes to life immediately with a slight mechanical noise, its bright light piercing my squeezed eyelids. Squinting, I start browsing the internet. Is there anything special? Probably not. Then, what am I looking for this early in the morning and so eagerly? A business deal or is it the performance of international stock markets for future investments? Neither one of them. Is it the number of likes and comments on a Facebook post? Of course not. Instead, through the internet, I try to reconnect myself with current events in Pakistan from where I left them before I went to bed the previous night. Lately, I realise that the simple habit of following the national news has seized control of my mind like an addiction in which the vicious cycle of drug withdrawals that lead to over-indulgence that results in profound guilt never ends. This is a routine that does not please me since there is hardly any good news in the media but is guaranteed to make me a nervous wreck. Within the next 10 minutes I need to glance at the e-papers. First, of course, the one in your hands right now, followed by another, then another — at least five of them — and I skim through them all taking in important events. Then, while having breakfast, I read my favourite columns and update myself with the day’s political agenda. Only then do I feel satiated. Sitting in the car on my way to work, I not only insert the car key in the ignition to turn on the engine, I also stick the aux lead into my Samsung Galaxy mobile phone connecting it to the audio system of the vehicle. Again, I browse through the app concerning Pakistani politics and click on one of the daily talk shows. Even though most of them are boring and repetitive, I still enjoy listening to them, a habit that I am contemplating to give up. In the next 35 minutes, by the time I reach the work place, I have already finished one programme. The recorded programmes do not contain advertisements so they run shorter and are a little more enjoyable than their original versions that contains up to 30 minutes of advertisement time for a one-hour long show. I repeat the same exercise on my way home. Equipped with all the latest updates, trust me, I know what is going on in Pakistan moment to moment: Imran arrives in Islamabad, Maulana Tahir Qadri leaves the dharna (sit-in), Mian Nawaz Sharif meets Asif Ali Zardari, the PPP promotes Bilawal as its new chairman and so on. Sometimes I believe I am more informed about them than a professional journalist who covers politics! I can visualise these events so clearly it is as though they are unfolding right in front of my eyes. But, to tell you the truth, I do not live in Pakistan. I live in the US, more than 7,000 miles away from Islamabad. I left the country of my birth and my childhood decades ago. To tell you more, I must admit that I hold dual nationality, one Pakistani and the other one US. If push comes to shove and if the law permits me to keep only one then you know which one I am going to keep, right? I am totally invested in the US. All my children have been born here. Growing up, I am sure they love the country of their childhood as much as I do mine, or may be a little more because they know the quality of their lives would not be better anywhere else. In addition, my house, my retirement investments and my life insurance, everything caters to my needs here in the US. The likelihood of me moving back to Pakistan, to be honest, is less than the odds of having snowfall in Karachi during summertime. In spite of this harsh reality, my heart longs for a ‘new’ and progressive Pakistan all the time. From five in the morning when I start groping for my laptop till my mind goes numb late at night, I am rooting for that change. If asked, my colleagues and friends may even reveal that my soul still resides in Pakistan and only my body has immigrated to the northern suburb of Indianapolis, unattached and disinterested in local politics. I cannot disagree. This is why I may not be able to tell you the name of the mayor of my city or the name of my local Congressman. However, you can bet I can expound on every reason for the delay in the local body elections of Punjab and Sindh. I can also allude to the rulings of the Supreme Court (SC) of Pakistan in its favour and cite to you the constitutional clauses that deal with the issue. My story should not surprise most non-resident Pakistanis as I find a majority of dual nationals following the same pattern even when they have lived outside Pakistan for a quarter of a century or more. The severity, the shades and the reasons may be different but the underlying motif, the concern for a stable and progressive Pakistan, does not change. I watch Pakistani news channels running all day long in US-Pakistani households. I see them supporting the sit-ins or arguing against them, I listen to their concerns, I feel their passion and I ask myself: do Pakistanis living in Pakistan appreciate that passion too? The writer is a US-based freelance columnist. He tweets at @KaamranHashmi and can be reached at skamranhashmi@gmail.com