As Abbu drove me back from the airport, I noticed that the trees, the streets, everything looked smaller and more compact. It looked beautiful though and I had an urge to get out of the car and lie face flat on the ground hugging it. That’s how simple and uncomplicated my happiness was at the time. I remember when we first moved here and we would take the plane back to Pakistan. Getting off at Karachi airport and smelling the earth and the humid air would make me want to do the same thing. Get down on the dusty earth and hug it. I wouldn’t stop grinning the entire ride home as my khalo drove us back, the wind cool on my face in the night and blowing through my hair making it feel dirty and course; sitting in the front seat of a car in which I didn’t attach a seatbelt and rolled the windows down manually exerting pressure. Here I got into the passenger seat of the car I’ve been in many times but it felt different from the one I had in the States and I was surprised by its unfamiliarity. It was a nice Sunday morning and the sun was up, the mountains, the lake and the houses lining it were still there. I watched lazily, not grinning the entire way, but perfectly content, accepting the love for Switzerland. This must be the ultimate test for checking whether I love a place and call it home. If I come back to it after a long time and feel like hugging the dirt, it’s love.