Karachi like a local
Most visitors will only see Karachi through the lens of elite hospitality (with its air-conditioned cars, rooftop dinners and guarded gates) or via the headlines (which tend to focus on crime, politics and power cuts). But get to know the city, and you'll discover a different Karachi — one where strangers help change your flat tire, where chai is served at midnight, and where allowing women to cut the line is an unspoken rule.
I was born and bred in this chaos and now cover Pakistan and its economy for Reuters from here. While Karachi may no longer be the capital, it remains the country's economic engine, cultural pulse and most unfiltered mirror. It's a microcosm of Pakistan itself: volatile, welcoming and, if you know it well enough, quietly wonderful.
Here's my guide to exploring this gem of a city like a local:
Getting around: Three-wheeled rickshaws are still your best bet for short distances — cheap, breezy and easy to hail off the street. For something quicker in traffic, hop on a motorcycle using ride-hailing apps like Yango or inDrive. They are fast, affordable and offer a front-row seat to Karachi's traffic ballet.
While public buses decorated with truck art still rumble through the city's major arteries, the newer Peoples' Bus Service offers a cleaner, more structured way to get across longer distances, albeit with limited routes.
What to eat: Karachi, like much of Pakistan, has been shaped by waves of migration, and nowhere is this more evident than in its food. Biryani, a spiced rice dish layered with meat and potatoes (a uniquely Karachi touch) is the city's most beloved meal. Most locals eat it at least once a week on Fridays, as is tradition. You can find it everywhere, from not-so-fancy sit-down spots like Ghousia and Student to roadside joints where it's scooped fresh from massive metal pots known as deghs. A hearty meal with raita (herby yoghurt dip) costs around 350 Pakistani rupees ($1.20).
For more Karachi eats, visit Burns Road Food Street, the city's most iconic culinary strip. Dating back to before partition and recently pedestrianized, it's a living museum of local flavours. Try Karachi-style pani puri, made of crispy hollow shells filled with tangy chutney and mashed potatoes or chickpeas, before finishing with gulab jamun (milky dough balls soaked in sweet syrup) and falooda (a fragrant, creamy dessert drink made with ice cream, dried fruits, jelly and vermicelli noodles).
For a different vibe, head to Hussainabad Food Street, a lively, no-frills spot famous for grilled meats, spicy snacks and a buzzing late-night crowd of families and night owls alike.
And always end your meal the Karachi way, with paan, a betel leaf filled with sweet preserves and spices. The city's red-stained sidewalks and walls are proof: Karachi runs on paan.
Late-night chai: Rather than bars, chai dhabas form the city's social hubs, buzzing late into the night. Menus mostly feature doodh patti (milk tea) and stuffed parathas (fried flatbreads), but vibes vary: While original dhabas are no-frills with plastic chairs and kettles set on coal-fired stoves, newer spots have playlists, fairy lights, and younger crowds. Most are open-air, letting you catch Karachi's salty evening breeze while you talk politics and try to solve the world's problems drinking cup after cup after cup.
What to buy: Lawn cloth, Karachi's go-to summer fabric, makes for a perfect souvenir. Grab an unstitched set sold in rolls of cloth from a local bazaar or mall, get it stitched by a tailor in days, or pick a ready-made outfit from brands like Khaadi or Sapphire. Add an ajrak scarf for a bold, local touch. For something more personal, artists like YouAreFlover can hand-paint designs inspired by truck art on your shoes or suitcase.
An ideal day: Spend a Sunday morning at the Frere Hall book bazaar, browsing second-hand titles and new poetry under sprawling banyan trees. Nearby, admire the surreal ceiling murals by the late Pakistani artist and calligrapher Sadequain, whose sweeping works turn the historic hall into a gallery.
From there, dive into the chaos of Empress Market, a 19th-century relic selling fresh produce, dried fruit, and herbs that is full of colour and colonial history. Take a peaceful stroll through Mohatta Palace, where larger-than-life portraits tell Pakistan's founding story.
If your Urdu is up to it, catch a theatre play or comedy show at the Arts Council, hosting everything from traditional mushairas (poem recitals) to sharp modern satire. End your day at Clifton Beach — not for swimming, but for camel rides, masala corn on the cob and the cooling sea breeze.
For a dose of Karachi's creative pulse, gallery-hop between Canvas and VM Art Gallery, or drop in on a poetry slam, pop-up gig or film screening at T2F or District 19.
Getting away: For an escape from the city, drive two hours west to Mubarak Village or Charna Island for turquoise water, coral patches and quiet fishing villages. Or stay closer at Turtle Beach, where locals surf and friends gather for overnight barbecues in rented private huts that go for as low as 10,000 Pakistani rupees ($35).
Biggest misconception: As with most global cities, it's important to keep your wits about you. Muggings are not uncommon, so keep your phone tucked away and avoid wearing flashy jewellery. But don't keep your guard up too high, either. You never know when you'll be handed a free meal or a friendly smile from a stranger. This city isn't for the faint-hearted, but it's full of wonderful surprises, too.
Faux pas: Don't expect to tap your card everywhere — cash is king in Karachi. Avoid handing over large notes at stalls; vendors rarely have change and might just give it to you for free if you look like a tourist. And always take your shoes off before entering mosques or shrines — no exceptions.
CITY MEMO DATA POINTS
Population: 20 million
Price of a chai: 100 Pakistani rupees ($0.35) from a roadside dhaba and 200 Pakistani rupees ($0.70) from a place like Chotu Chaiwala.
Price of an ice cream: 200 Pakistani rupees ($0.70) for a generous scoop of crunch (caramel swirls) or Peshawari (a dense, milky vanilla-style flavour enriched with clotted cream) from one of the many Peshawari ice cream outlets across Karachi.
Great place to see a sunset: Clifton Beach near Nishan-e-Pakistan promises a sunset with the sea breeze and camel silhouettes. Kidney Hill Park gives a quieter, elevated view of the skyline and a distant view of the port. Or head to Do Darya, where grilled seafood pairs perfectly with the sun sinking into the waves.
Popular influencer: A doctor by training and a storyteller by instinct, Bilal Hassan (known by his Instagram handle @Mystapaki) documents Karachi in all its raw, beautiful chaos — from rain-drenched alleys and traffic standstills to quiet moments of daily life. His posts aren't filtered for perfection; they're grounded, human and often laced with humour. It's Karachi, as lived and felt.
Largest university: Karachi University, 41,000 students om and the App!
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It's a microcosm of Pakistan itself: volatile, welcoming and, if you know it well enough, quietly wonderful. Here's my guide to exploring this gem of a city like a local: Getting around: Three-wheeled rickshaws are still your best bet for short distances — cheap, breezy and easy to hail off the street. For something quicker in traffic, hop on a motorcycle using ride-hailing apps like Yango or inDrive. They are fast, affordable and offer a front-row seat to Karachi's traffic ballet. While public buses decorated with truck art still rumble through the city's major arteries, the newer Peoples' Bus Service offers a cleaner, more structured way to get across longer distances, albeit with limited routes. What to eat: Karachi, like much of Pakistan, has been shaped by waves of migration, and nowhere is this more evident than in its food. Biryani, a spiced rice dish layered with meat and potatoes (a uniquely Karachi touch) is the city's most beloved meal. Most locals eat it at least once a week on Fridays, as is tradition. You can find it everywhere, from not-so-fancy sit-down spots like Ghousia and Student to roadside joints where it's scooped fresh from massive metal pots known as deghs. A hearty meal with raita (herby yoghurt dip) costs around 350 Pakistani rupees ($1.20). For more Karachi eats, visit Burns Road Food Street, the city's most iconic culinary strip. Dating back to before partition and recently pedestrianized, it's a living museum of local flavours. Try Karachi-style pani puri, made of crispy hollow shells filled with tangy chutney and mashed potatoes or chickpeas, before finishing with gulab jamun (milky dough balls soaked in sweet syrup) and falooda (a fragrant, creamy dessert drink made with ice cream, dried fruits, jelly and vermicelli noodles). For a different vibe, head to Hussainabad Food Street, a lively, no-frills spot famous for grilled meats, spicy snacks and a buzzing late-night crowd of families and night owls alike. And always end your meal the Karachi way, with paan, a betel leaf filled with sweet preserves and spices. The city's red-stained sidewalks and walls are proof: Karachi runs on paan. Late-night chai: Rather than bars, chai dhabas form the city's social hubs, buzzing late into the night. Menus mostly feature doodh patti (milk tea) and stuffed parathas (fried flatbreads), but vibes vary: While original dhabas are no-frills with plastic chairs and kettles set on coal-fired stoves, newer spots have playlists, fairy lights, and younger crowds. Most are open-air, letting you catch Karachi's salty evening breeze while you talk politics and try to solve the world's problems drinking cup after cup after cup. What to buy: Lawn cloth, Karachi's go-to summer fabric, makes for a perfect souvenir. Grab an unstitched set sold in rolls of cloth from a local bazaar or mall, get it stitched by a tailor in days, or pick a ready-made outfit from brands like Khaadi or Sapphire. Add an ajrak scarf for a bold, local touch. For something more personal, artists like YouAreFlover can hand-paint designs inspired by truck art on your shoes or suitcase. An ideal day: Spend a Sunday morning at the Frere Hall book bazaar, browsing second-hand titles and new poetry under sprawling banyan trees. Nearby, admire the surreal ceiling murals by the late Pakistani artist and calligrapher Sadequain, whose sweeping works turn the historic hall into a gallery. From there, dive into the chaos of Empress Market, a 19th-century relic selling fresh produce, dried fruit, and herbs that is full of colour and colonial history. Take a peaceful stroll through Mohatta Palace, where larger-than-life portraits tell Pakistan's founding story. If your Urdu is up to it, catch a theatre play or comedy show at the Arts Council, hosting everything from traditional mushairas (poem recitals) to sharp modern satire. End your day at Clifton Beach — not for swimming, but for camel rides, masala corn on the cob and the cooling sea breeze. For a dose of Karachi's creative pulse, gallery-hop between Canvas and VM Art Gallery, or drop in on a poetry slam, pop-up gig or film screening at T2F or District 19. Getting away: For an escape from the city, drive two hours west to Mubarak Village or Charna Island for turquoise water, coral patches and quiet fishing villages. Or stay closer at Turtle Beach, where locals surf and friends gather for overnight barbecues in rented private huts that go for as low as 10,000 Pakistani rupees ($35). Biggest misconception: As with most global cities, it's important to keep your wits about you. Muggings are not uncommon, so keep your phone tucked away and avoid wearing flashy jewellery. But don't keep your guard up too high, either. You never know when you'll be handed a free meal or a friendly smile from a stranger. This city isn't for the faint-hearted, but it's full of wonderful surprises, too. Faux pas: Don't expect to tap your card everywhere — cash is king in Karachi. Avoid handing over large notes at stalls; vendors rarely have change and might just give it to you for free if you look like a tourist. And always take your shoes off before entering mosques or shrines — no exceptions. CITY MEMO DATA POINTS Population: 20 million Price of a chai: 100 Pakistani rupees ($0.35) from a roadside dhaba and 200 Pakistani rupees ($0.70) from a place like Chotu Chaiwala. Price of an ice cream: 200 Pakistani rupees ($0.70) for a generous scoop of crunch (caramel swirls) or Peshawari (a dense, milky vanilla-style flavour enriched with clotted cream) from one of the many Peshawari ice cream outlets across Karachi. 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A centuries-old Persian couplet often repeated in Indian-administered Kashmir translates to: "If there is a paradise on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here." And many Kashmiris insist it was written with Pahalgam in small town, nestled between tall Himalayan mountains with a gurgling Lidder River flowing through it, is called the mini-Switzerland of valleys and meadows here have long provided stunning locations for Bollywood romances and attracted tens of thousands of tourists escaping the heat and dust of Indian on 22 April, the tranquil valley hit global headlines when a sprawling meadow here turned into killing singled out male Hindu tourists and murdered 25 of them in front of their families in Baisaran, a beauty spot about 7km from the town. A local Muslim pony handler who tried to help tourists was also shot massacre brought nuclear-armed India and Pakistan to the brink of war. 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It's this sort of view that made this valley in south Kashmir such a sought-after Burza says visitors came from all over India for its lakes, forests, meadows and glaciers – and went back raving about the local people and their hospitality."People here are poor, they live hand-to-mouth, but they are known to be very kind and helpful. Now we are all facing the consequences of this senseless violence," he adds. "We had bookings right until the end of June. But then everything fell apart like a pack of cards. There's not much left here now." The region's Chief Minister Omar Abdullah says in the immediate aftermath of the attack, tourists fled the town and people who were proposing to come persuade tourists to give Pahalgam another chance, he visited the town within weeks of the attack, held a cabinet meeting there and, ignoring advice of security officials, cycled through the Mr Abdullah, Pahalgam's wellbeing is personal."It's where our school picnics were; it's where we probably first dipped our toes in running water. For some of us it's the first time we went white water rafting or trout fishing. For others, it's a day or overnight visit. For us, it's part of our growing up."Mr Abdullah says it's always hard to make predictions but he hopes to see Pahalgam "where it was on 21 April this year". On that day, it was packed with tourists, says Fayyaz Ahmad, who sells Kashmiri embroidered shawls and dresses in Pahalgam's main market, with shops lining both sides of the only road that passes through the remain shuttered, but a few have begun to open in the hope of attracting customers. The day I met him was the first he'd opened his shop since the last three seasons – post-Covid years – had been marked by bumper visits, Mr Ahmad says."Every morning at least 3,000 cars would arrive by 11am. There would be traffic jams lasting two-three hours. Many tourists would say they couldn't find accommodation."His own shop sometimes got so crowded that a queue of shoppers would form outside. "Business was brisk," he said. But now he's had to let three salesmen go. They would be rehired only if business picked up, he targeting of tourists has left him bewildered. Since 1989, when an anti-India militancy gripped Kashmir valley, Mr Ahmad says, "the situation was really bad here"."We were afraid to step out of our homes, but tourists who chose to come here were never harmed. We can't understand why they've been targeted now. Who could do such a thing?" he blamed Pakistan-backed militants for the massacre in a region that both countries claim in full, but control only in accuses its neighbour of fuelling a long-running insurgency that has killed tens of thousands in Indian-administered Kashmir. Islamabad has long denied backing militants there. In recent years, the insurgency had abated, bringing millions of tourists and a growing sense that the region was finally becoming safer. But that has now changed."Pahalgam ke naam par dhabba lag gaya [Pahalgam's name is stained]," laments Nisar Ali, an 80-year-old resident who makes a living by selling papier mache products."People had taken loans to open shops and buy taxis, now everyone is staring at an uncertain future. What's happened to our paradise," he asks. Just 2km from the market, a signboard points to the untarred road that goes up to Baisaran, a 5km trek covered on foot or ponies. The concertina wire used to barricade the road has been moved to one side and local people and flocks of sheep can be seen making their way the killings, it was one of the most popular places for tourists. The meadow offering a great view of the valley was open from 08:00 to 17:00 and would get thousands of visitors daily in the it remains out of bounds now. Two men have been arrested for allegedly providing shelter to the militants, but those who carried out the killings have still not been caught - leading to fears that they could Wahid Wani, the president of Pahalgam pony owners' union, who was the first to arrive at the scene, says 1,090 tourists had gone up to the meadow until 14: the time of the attack, there were about 300 tourists in Baisaran, he 14:36, he says, he received a call from the police asking him if he had heard anything about an incident at Baisaran."I tried calling colleagues who had taken tourists up to the meadow, but no-one answered. I figured something was wrong and my brother and I ran all the way up and reached there at 15:10."The police and paramilitaries arrived 15 minutes later. That night, Mr Wani, wrapped up at 02:30. He says what he saw there keeps him awake at nights."I saw women and children crying and screaming. I saw bodies on the ground. I saw 10-15 people injured."In the first videos of the aftermath that went viral on the day of the attack, Mr Wani can be heard trying to reassure the survivors, offering them water, telling them he was there to help. He summoned other pony handlers who arrived at the scene to help evacuate people - "carrying them down on our backs and wooden cots" - and gather bodies strewn about the vast field."I still can't forget what I saw that day. I panicked; I had palpitations. I'd never seen anything like that before."When I met him in Pahalgam, he looked tired, his eyes sunk deep into his lined face. "For many nights I couldn't sleep and sleep still eludes me. With the militants still on the loose, I worry what will happen if they come after us because we helped people they were trying to kill?"But earlier this week, we exchanged messages and he sounded more town has sprung back to life, with thousands of pilgrims arriving to take part in Amarnath Yatra - the annual Hindu pilgrimage to the Amarnath cave shrine. It began on 3 July and will go on until 9 of camps have been set up and thousands of police and security forces have been deployed along the route to ensure is one of the two starting points for the trek to the shrine – and as many pilgrims hire ponies to take them part of the way, there's a steady stream of work for Mr Wani and his hoteliers and shop-owners say they will have to wait for their turn until after the end of the pilgrimage since most pilgrims stay in cheaper camps and rarely purchase crafts. But many are taking heart from the fact that tourists have begun returning to the region. Ravi Gosain, president of All India Tour Operators, says in June, 40% of more than 45,000 tourists who visited the Kashmir Valley went to the day I visited, there were families stopping for photographs under a "Love Pahalgam" and Hamid Jaffar, who had visited last year around the same time, said it was so crowded then that they had to wait for half an hour to be able to take a photo here."When we decided to come this year, our friends tried to discourage us saying it's not safe," says Shabiba. "But it's totally safe and my children are so happy that they are saying let's move to Kashmir."Mr Jaffar says their friends are calling them after seeing their photos. "And I'm telling them to come here for a holiday. Where will you see this beauty? Where will you get this peace?"
