There is a special romance about wandering the fields of your ancestors and breathing the clear air of small, village life; to long nights with nothing for entertainment but a sharp wit and some afghan hash, while the whole world is asleep around you and you are bathed in the stars.
I don't buy this crap, sorry. My ancestors? As my nan migrated from India with her family and friends, I can say it is certainly not the land of my ancestors. That land has been bordered off from me, because of religion. Clear air? I guess you must enjoy the smell of cow/horse/goat shit especially since you said village life, and lets not forget the dirt that is so persistent amongst the air. I will also disagree on the notion of sharp wit, we are primarily a country full of uneducated religious victims. Nah, bro, nah, I have no love left for Pakistan.
Sorry, but just had to rant a bit. It ain't personal z10.