I can’t remember exactly when these passport photos were taken, but probably shortly before we left Pakistan in November 1972. Here I am, four years old. Please notice the fly sitting on my headband. Couldn’t they have taken one more photo, or did they intentionally choose the one with the fly on my head?

Here’s Puchi, or Chanel No. 5. She changed the spelling of her nickname from Pouchi to Puchi many years ago. I think she got her nickname when she was the youngest child and my mother affectionately called her Puchra which I think means tail since she was on the tail end of the kids. As she got older she became Pouchi, now Puchi.  She’s four years older than me, born in August 1963 so she would have been nine years old when this photo was taken. Puchi and I were named by my mother. I think the rest of my siblings were named by my grandmother, my father’s mother. I was always grateful that my mother named us since our names seemed a bit more contemporary than those chosen for my other siblings. All of us share the same middle name, Afzal, to signify that we are our father’s children, a common practice in Pakistan.

And here’s Mimo, or Fazilet. Also known as Fizz or Fizzy, or Fizzy O’Flynn. She changed the spelling of her nickname from Memo to Mimo some years back. I think Mimo came from Mimra, probably some word of affection my mother made up when Mimo was the youngest child. Mimra turned into Memo, now Mimo (pronounced Meemo). She was born in October 1961 so she would have been 11 years old when this photo was taken.

Here’s Tito. His given name is Asad and he was born in August 1960. I have no idea  how he got his nickname. Although he was a bit of a sickly child, he went on to be a great athlete and had a successful career as an officer in the US Marine Corp, carrying on the military lineage.

Here’s Muna. My grandmother  named her Gulfiza which may be reason enough for the nickname. She was born in November 1958. Bookish from the start. And can we say eyebrow wax? I do like her outfit and the peace sign necklace.

And finally, Baba. He was named Samad, and his American friends shortened it to Sam when they had a hard time pronouncing it. He is the first born child which probably explains his nickname, Baba, which is a name usually reserved for elders, not necessarily first-born eldest children, but it stuck. Baba was a  new year’s baby born on January 1, 1956. He’s the greedy one among us, refusing to divide my parents’ estate after they died. (Note to Baba: If you are reading this, shame on you). None of us siblings is close to him anymore.