I grew up between Kabul and Karachi; two cities that always felt like they were on the edge of something. One broken by war, the other always just holding itself together amid all sorts of hardships of a city outgrowing itself but starved of resources and infrastructure. In both, I learned that people survive not just through faith but through the small things they do when no one’s watching; the quiet rituals and little beliefs that live in everyday life. They’re not loud, not official. But they’re full of love and hope.