It was my first year of A-levels and I’d moved to The Lyceum, a recently established A-level school in Clifton. I didn’t want to stay on at St Michael’s as many of the good teachers were leaving; besides, I’d had enough of Mrs Smith’s passive aggressive behaviour. For the first time in years, I was excited about school and the prospect of choosing my own subjects. I knew I’d have to keep my promise to Daddy of taking law as one of my subjects, but it was made up for by the fact that I could study history and literature too. I had a chance to make new friends, and students in my class were planning their future, picking colleges and universities abroad. I felt a little out of place in those conversations as I had decided to stay and wait for Danesh, much to my parents’ disapproval. Daddy wanted me to do A-levels and then go to London to sit my bar exams, but I was adamant about staying in Karachi.
