A (very) short story.
I’ve been writing a story for about 24 years now. That’s a long time to spend writing something, but this particular tale’s unyielding wellspring of possibilities for its protagonist’s character development has long gripped my interest with such strength that I’ve felt compelled to keep it going — even through those dreaded occasions when writer’s block has reared its ferocious head.
Putting together the last few chapters I worked on was an especially intense experience, though, and took more out of me than I initially realized. It was in the midst of these chapters that my…
This is not about any of us anymore.
Twenty-four years ago, in the year 1996, my father went on a journey.
He had been working as an IT professional for a few years at a hospital in Karachi, Pakistan. The road to that career had been paved with hardship — right around the time that he was planning to begin college, his own father, the breadwinner of the family, unexpectedly passed away.
He was faced with a difficult choice: either immediately find whatever menial work he could to generate a much-needed new source of income for his family, or bet…
Yes, my fellow introverts — we, too, can have friends.
Here’s a short list of some things I’ve done over the past few years. Try to spot what they all have in common:
So what’s the common thread that connects all the items on this list?
It’s the fact that they each required me to be a friendly, socially well-adjusted individual.
The world is on fire right now.
I’ve seen society ablaze with panic before in my life, but never to quite this degree. That probably has something to do with the fact that I’ve only existed on this planet for a little over 23 years — not even a quarter of a century. Most of the people reading this will probably laugh out loud at the fact that I was only born in 1997: “What the hell does this kid think he knows about the world?”
I’ll answer that question for you.
I know that I know very, very little…
This is not one of those stories that occasionally pops up on the internet about how I, a “humble and down-on-my-luck Uber driver,” was unexpectedly struck with the good fortune of getting a personal contact card from a passenger who took a liking to me and just so happened to be some big-wig executive at [insert popular mega-corporation here].
Those stories are wonderful and wholesome and go viral for good reason, but this one isn’t quite so glamorous. That being said, the one I’m about to tell is one that is host to equally life-changing consequences, and I believe it…
Here’s some background about who I am:
My name is Haadi. I’m about to be 23 years old. I was an honor roll student in high school with several AP course credits and great exam scores, and I was accepted to several excellent colleges upon graduation.
I also had no idea what I wanted to do.
The first path I stumbled into was music education; I was a tuba player in high school, so that seemed like the road of least resistance. …
The first time I heard a Mac Miller song, I was standing in a circle of fellow 14 year-olds in a ditch on the edge of a forest in New Jersey. I wish I remembered more details about the scenery, but there was so much cannabis smoke in my eyes that I could barely keep them open.
It was a pivotal time in my life: the summer of 2011, the last summer before the beginning of high school. The year prior, the girl I sat next to on the school bus every day had plunged into the midst of an…
Writer, musician, software developer, curious human. Failure is just another word for progress. I try to fail every day.