We often feel about Pakistan the same way a genius felt about where I live — “I love England except the people who live in it”. On the other hand, even if we have a choice, we would never live anywhere else. Beyond familiarity, associations and sheer laziness, there must be things about Pakistan, which are so endearing. Others may count their blessings in her high mountains, nuclear status and culinary delights; I adore the people. They make my Pakistan. Pakistanis are a mixture of indigenous groups loosely bound together by Islam, Urdu and perhaps shalwar qamiz. We are born innocent and with our heads turned backwards. We have inherited this along with our history, confused identity and weird birthmarks. Everything is in the present tense; today is what we feel. We seldom think of the future, which leaves us free to enjoy ourselves. We do laugh a lot; it doesn’t even matter what it is about. We do not like to read, perhaps for the fear of losing our innocence (without losing virginity). We often make the classic mistake of the good-hearted that everyone else is just like us. No wonder, we prefer mercy over justice. How do we survive in a country without social security and functional state institutions? Your guess is as good as mine! When everything is doomed, the people who stand by you without flinching are your family. It seems, the family in Pakistan, is not determined by birth or marriage certificates; it is made in the heart. They love you even when you are not so lovable; from the rest of the world you have to earn love. Even if you put miles in-between, they still cherish you in their hearts and minds. They always give you that soft-pillow feeling; a part of you stays in their whispers. While we adopt the style of living in debt, the government has gone ahead and mortgaged the material assets of our grandchildren, risking the loss of their political and spiritual heritage Family may be an eroding institution, but for most people, family members are still the first and the closest relationships they have. You spend a lot of time with them because, unlike friends, you don’t get to choose them. While you love your family, a lot of what they do and say can leave you scratching your head. Some of them can be annoying ‘like bad wallpaper’ and there is nothing more spectacular than watching them fight among themselves. I had the advantage of having one child there, so we always knew who did it! In the alternative scenario, home can be a place where “part of the family waits till the rest of the family brings the car back”. We are the people where anything about anybody is known by everybody else. Just when you feel crushed by the sheer weight of state secrets, you watch those played as tickers on the TV Channels. Gossip, for us, is not a mindless distraction from a serious world but a national pastime. The most reliable topics for small talk are the comings and goings of film, cricket or political celebrities. There is no restriction of time or place for this activity. You can even detect it in most serious places, recognizing it instantly in the sound of hushed voices, lowered just enough to make whatever is being said acceptable. In a culture where ritual is religion, infatuation is love, propaganda is journalism, and miming is called singing, gossip may be a discourse adopted by those who have experienced nothing exhilarating in their lives. In fiscal terms, there are two categories of people: those who save and those who spend. Unlike our neighbours, we are the spending type. We earn money not to save for the future but to live today. We mostly spend all we have in order to hoodwink others into believing we are rich. This is to do with the history of this part of the world and the prevalent Muslim psyche. We fit the stereotype who “spend money to buy things we often do not need to impress people we don’t even like”. We refuse to appreciate that Arabian-Bling is not real wealth but an indication of low self-esteem. This value-based spending is designed to line the pockets of those who are bleeding the have-nots. While we adopt the indebtedness style of living, the government has gone ahead and mortgaged the material assets of our grandchildren risking the loss of their political and spiritual heritage. We also have a rich imagination and feel things more intensely. Our joy is purest and our grief most devastating. Forbes unsurprisingly found us happier than the Indians. Despite visiting often, I still imagine Pakistan as a land with mango orchards, joint families, ancestral fields extending into the horizon, dancing girls and bazaars packed with excitement. We all dream that love will save us, solve our problems and provide a steady state of bliss with security. This may be a rage against the chaotic and sterile national scene or perhaps our insides don’t match with our outsides. But everyone has his/her own style. Since we created our own, we should stick to it. Why change? Perhaps others should stop expecting us to be perfect, and like us for who we are. The writer is a Consultant Psychiatrist and Visiting Professor. He tweets @AamerSarfarz Published in Daily Times, January 31st 2018.