It begins with a feeling. Not a sound. Not a sign. Just a hush. You don’t enter New Metro City Lahore—you arrive. Gently. Like rain arriving on marble. Like a breeze threading its fingers through tall trees. There is no fanfare. No ceremony. Just an unfolding of stillness. The roads curve not for direction, but for rhythm. The sky hangs lower here, not heavy, but close, like a...