It all started with when I landed on the Islamabad Airport and got amused on finding it that even after four years from the day I left it has been able to maintain its name as Benazir Bhutto International Airport. Well I was pretty much aware of how the situation was at a Pakistani Airport and I doubt that it would have changed in all these decades so I avoided all the cabbies, who are in continuous search of a passenger to fill their pockets by their money by charging them a little extra owing to the fact that they are the so called “Airport k Taxi Walay”, and search for that one man who was there to pick me up. Javed, that’s what they say his name was. Neither did he knew me nor did I knew him but that board which had my name written on it made it very clear he was the one I was looking for. Well he greeted me, took a hold of my luggage and opened the door of the car for me. I also thanked him for his gesture and made my way into the car. After which he slammed shut the door,