What’s the best advice you’d give to someone younger than you?
Spend more time with the people you love, especially your grandparents and parents. You never know how much time you have left to make memories with them. Don’t take the people you love or the good days for granted. One day, you’ll find yourself searching for that familiar voice, that laugh, and the advice that came from years of experience, and it won’t be there anymore.
And lastly life is too short to leave important words unsaid.
There will always be someone who is better than you in every worldly sense, someone with more money, more success, a better career, a bigger house, a nicer car, or a life that looks more beautiful from the outside. But you, as a person, know who you truly are and how good of a human being you are when no one is watching. Most of the time, simply because we are born into a certain place, family, or privilege, we grow up believing that we are entitled to everything life has to offer. And I am not saying we should be ungrateful for what we have, because gratitude matters. But sometimes I wonder, what are we really? When everything is stripped away, are we anything more than bones, skin, a beating heart, and a soul trying to make sense of this life?
Why is it so easy for us to forget that time is constantly slipping through our fingers like sand, while we are busy chasing things that will eventually mean nothing? We need to spend more time becoming better human beings, because people will not remember your looks or worldly possessions. They will remember how you treated them, how you made them feel, how you showed up when they needed you, and how much kindness you left behind. And when you are gone, none of the material things you spent your life chasing will matter anymore. What will remain is the love you gave, the lives you touched, and the person you chose to be while you were here. That is the only legacy that truly lives beyond us 🤍
There will be a death in your life that stuns you. You will lose someone, and in that loss, you will feel as though you have lost everything that once made sense. Your future will crack open, every piece of it reshaped because someone you envisioned as such a large part of it is suddenly no longer there. You will think you know what grief is until the grief is yours, until it is a grief so personal that it changes the trajectory of your entire life. And it is in your lowest moments that you start seeing people for who they really are, when you are vulnerable, when you are weak, when you have nothing left to give. A big part of me has chosen distance. I hate social gatherings. I have no interest in being surrounded by people just for the sake of being surrounded. I would rather be with the few people who are genuinely close to me, somewhere quiet, somewhere there is nobody else. I value friends who do not judge me when I am upset, people who make an effort, who show up, and who remind me through their actions that I matter, especially on the days when I question it myself. Grief has made me more selective, not bitter. I simply have less interest in superficial connections and more appreciation for the people who are real, consistent, and present.
What’s the weirdest coincidence you’ve ever experienced?
I tend to have a strong intuition about people and situations, but I don’t always trust it. I usually choose to follow my heart because I naturally want to see the best in people and in situations. That’s just how I am. But then life happens, and certain experiences make you question that instinct and see things differently. And somehow, my intuition usually comes back later to remind me that I knew all along. But that’s how we learn. Right?
What’s a moment when you realized you were officially an adult?
I think you only truly become an adult when you lose the person who made you feel safe in a world where people are always looking for your vulnerabilities. For me, that person was my father. Whenever I fell, I knew he would be there. No matter what. Any issue, Aba was just a call away. If I needed emotional support, he was there, giving me his undivided attention. If I wanted something, I knew I could ask him. He rarely ever said no to me. I never had to question who had my back.
Losing him made me realize that life doesn’t stop when you lose your biggest support. You just have to learn to pick yourself up, protect yourself, and keep going. Even on the days when you want to give up, when all you want is them, when all you want is to feel safe again. I think that’s the hardest part of growing up: realizing that the person who always made you feel like you could handle anything is no longer there to catch you when you fall. And that has changed something in me. I am no longer the person I was. That’s what grief does to you, it changes you into a someone else. You know you’re no longer anyone’s priority anymore. It does make you strong. You grow a thicker skin to deal with this world and its people.
What’s a skill you consider basic, that most people don’t actually know how to do?
Empathy and consideration. You can’t really teach these things to someone. Some people naturally have the ability to put themselves in another person’s place, while others simply don’t. Empathy is being able to see yourself in someone else’s situation before judging them. Consideration is understanding that your words and actions can affect someone, even when you don’t intend them to. I think both come from being able to look beyond yourself and remember that everyone is carrying something you may not see. At the end of the day, it’s simply about being human enough to think, “What if that were me?”
If you could rewrite any book’s ending, which one would you choose?
“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”— Socrates
Honestly, I wouldn’t rewrite a book just to give it a happy ending. Happy endings can be comforting, but not every story should end with happiness, closure, or peace. Life rarely does. Stories that embrace uncertainty, loss, or bittersweet endings often feel more honest because they reflect the human experience.
My father was a student of philosophy. When I was younger, many of the things he said didn’t make sense to me. Over time, I realized they were all connected, shaped by experience rather than abstract ideas. There are hundreds of books he collected over the years, filling shelves with history, philosophy, and literature. They are more than a collection to me now. They are reminders of his curiosity, his wisdom, and the conversations we never got to finish. His reading glasses are still there, along with his collection of Persol glasses, exactly where he left them. Sometimes they make it feel as though he has only stepped away for a moment.
My happiest chapter ended the day I said goodbye to him. God, how much he filled my life with love, laughter, and everything I could have ever wished for. Since then, I’ve understood that the longer we live, the more loved ones we lose. Grief is not the opposite of love. It is the price we pay for it.
The only ending we all truly share is death. Until then, life is full of unanswered questions, imperfect resolutions, and moments that can feel empty. That is what makes it real. I think books should capture that reality instead of pretending every journey ends with everything falling into place. The stories that stay with us are often the ones that remind us life is beautiful, painful, unpredictable, and unfinished.
If you could erase one trend from history, what would it be?
If I could erase one trend from history, it would be the need to please society. You get one life, yet so many people waste it chasing approval from people who won’t be there when they’re hurting and who would barely pause if you ceased to exist tomorrow. No matter how much you sacrifice, someone will always expect more, and the only person left drained is you. Be kind. Be respectful. But never let the fear of judgment dictate your choices. Live on your own terms because the people you’re trying so hard to impress will never have to live with the consequences of your life. You will.
There’s a popular belief that when you die, your brain replays the best seven minutes of your life. Whether that’s true or not, I hope those moments are filled with memories of love, courage, laughter, and a life lived on your own terms. Because the greatest tragedy isn’t dying. It’s looking back and realizing the life you lived was written by everyone except you.
What’s something you used to believe as a kid that seems ridiculous now?
As a kid, I really believed that if you were good to people, they would always be good to you. It felt like the way the world was supposed to work. Growing up taught me that everyone has their own battles, priorities, and way of seeing things. Sometimes people appreciate your kindness, sometimes they forget it, and sometimes they even start expecting it. That doesn’t mean you should stop being kind. It just means you shouldn’t tie your kindness to expectations. Be kind because that’s who you are, not because you expect the same in return.
I also genuinely believed mermaids were real. I was a huge Little Mermaid fan, had Ariel’s poster on my wall, and held on to this tiny bit of hope that they existed somewhere deep in the ocean. I even avoided seafood because I wanted to protect marine life. Turns out I was wrong about the mermaids, and somewhere along the way I realized I actually like seafood.
Success in life comes from keeping your intentions clean, your actions consistent, and your expectations realistic. Do good because it aligns with who you are, not because you’re counting on something back, and you’ll avoid a lot of disappointment. Treat people with kindness, but know when to take a stand and be direct when something isn’t right. If you can help someone, do it, even in small ways, because you never know what someone is going through, and there is a quiet peace in that, something I learned from my beloved Aba. Keep moving forward even when things feel unfair or slow, because you are your biggest hero, and the life you build depends on how steadily you show up for yourself.
Having good people in your life matters more than anything. People who truly want the best for you, guide you, and speak well of you even when you’re not around. I may not have many friends, but the ones I do have always stand by me. What we share is real and mutual.
Friends are the family you choose. They lift you when you’re down, and being with them just feels right. No filters, no pretending.
It’s important to find People who make you realize there’s nothing wrong with being who you are.
Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.
When people ask me to name one good thing a family member has done for me, I can’t. It was never just one thing. It was a lifetime of love. Loving me, protecting me, choosing me, standing by me no matter what. That is what family means to me.
For me, that love came from my father.
He gave me a world where I felt safe, valued, and free. Coming from a feudal Baloch background, I know how limited life can be for girls. But he never let that become my reality. He protected me from those boundaries and gave me a life many girls only dream of.
Sometimes I think about it and realise how much he gave me without ever making it feel like a burden. He did not just protect me from the world, he prepared me for it in the most gentle way.
After losing him, I finally saw how harsh the world can be. He had been shielding me all along.
Aba, not having you here is a pain I carry every day. But everything you gave me still lives in me. I will always love you. I will always be grateful.
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
A good self care day
Nothing makes me happier than a full self care day. Hair treatments, a fresh blowdry, getting my nails done, a relaxing pedicure, and a massage just make me feel so refreshed, confident, and put together. I also love getting my hair colored twice a year, it feels like such a fun little transformation and makes me feel brand new. It’s honestly the best reset ever.
A good shopping spree
Shopping is my happy place! Whether I’m scrolling online or walking through the mall, I love it all. Sephora, Mango, Zara, Ulta… I could spend hours looking at makeup, clothes, and shoes. It just instantly lifts my mood.
Coffee with the right people
Coffee feels so much better when it’s with the right person. Sitting there, talking about everything and nothing, laughing, venting, and just being completely unfiltered is such a comforting feeling.
Driving
I absolutely love driving. It’s just me, my music, and my thoughts. It feels so peaceful and freeing, like my own little escape where I can just be in the moment.
Quiet time to myself
As much as I love being around people, I really value my alone time. Just relaxing, unwinding, and enjoying a little peace makes me feel recharged and balanced again. Even sleeping peacefully without an alarm just makes it feel extra special.
Empathy is what truly makes a person unique, especially in today’s world. People who are genuinely kind, mature, educated, and well traveled often share one important quality: the ability to understand and feel for others. They do not see themselves as superior, and they do not treat others with indifference. Instead, they show basic human decency in the way they speak, act, and respond to the people around them.
For me, empathy stands above everything else. It is not just about being nice. It is about being aware, respectful, and emotionally present. At a time when many people are quick to judge or dismiss others, empathy feels rare, and that is exactly why it matters so much.
The most empathetic person I have ever known was my father. He felt things deeply and treated people with genuine kindness, yet he was firm when he needed to be. He had a quiet ability to understand people just by being around them, almost as if he could read their emotions without a single word. His empathy was never a weakness. It was his strength, and it shaped the way he connected with everyone he met.
To me, that is what truly makes someone unique. Not their achievements or their status, but their ability to treat others with compassion and understanding.
Life is a series of unpredictable events. Nothing and no one is ever certain. Even your own existence might not be there for the things you have planned. The people around you, your friends, they are with you only if they truly value you not for what they can gain. True bonds are unconditional. You should be able to trust someone completely, eyes closed, without hesitation.
We spend so much time planning unaware of what might happen along the way. That is why it is important to live life on your own terms. You only live once. Make sure that when you leave this world you can be at peace knowing you never settled for the bare minimum just because society expected it. Most of us realize this after our mid-twenties and then life becomes a journey of self-exploration.
Make the most of the time you have before it is too late and you are left with regrets. Every moment should be cherished. The only thing we can control is the present and how we face it not the past or the future. Overthinking destroys our present. I do it myself and it brings anxiety. Sometimes all I can do is reach out to those close to me and let them help calm my mind.
Life is unpredictable but it is beautiful. The key is to live it fully, love deeply, and hold onto what truly matters.
After all the self reflecting blogs and deeper thoughts, I am back here again with a simple seasonal blog to help you sort out your summer wardrobe.
I love shopping. Whenever I am stressed, I shop. When I am bored, I shop. I love the rush of dopamine I get whenever I buy something new or when an outfit turns out exactly the way I imagined it would.
Growing up, I was the only sister with two brothers. I was a complete tomboy and honestly did not care much about what I wore, just like boys usually don’t. Most of what I know now about dressing up and putting outfits together, I learned on my own. My mom has always been very chill about these things. Now she actually asks for my help sometimes. It is funny how time changes.
Like every year, I promised myself that I would not shop much this summer. But here I am again with a dozen suits even though summers have only just started. I love looking good and dressing up. But most of the time I end up buying things I do not even wear. They stay brand new in my closet and after some time I give them away because the trend has already passed.
This year I focused more on super soft fabrics that are easy to carry and comfortable for everyday summer wear. At the same time, I could not stop myself from buying a few heavily embroidered pieces as well, because there are always formal gatherings and special occasions where you want to dress up a little more.
Zaib
This brand has my heart mainly because it feels so niche. It never feels like one of those brands where everyone is wearing the same thing and it starts to look like a uniform. I have never liked wearing common clothes. I always want my outfit to feel unique and stand out in its own way. For me it is always about the little things like the cut, the colors, the dupatta and of course the way I carry it. I got four pieces from this collection and I love them all, although they do require a lot of care since they can only be dry cleaned. The black and the maroon ones especially have my heart because I love details on the back neckline. I have always been someone who notices the smallest details and to me those tiny touches are what really make an outfit special.
Bareeze
For years I never liked this brand because almost every weird aunty seemed to be wearing it. I think I associated the brand with the way those women carried themselves, so I always stayed away from it. But this time I came across the cutest rainbow pink, a golden one, and a green, and I could not resist. What really convinced me was the fabric. It was super soft and perfect for summers, which is exactly what you need in Pakistan. I stayed away from the overly embroidered pieces and chose the ones with minimal embroidery and chiffon dupattas. The harder part was actually designing them. I had to find the right lace and then scroll through Pinterest for design ideas. In the end I kept the designs very simple but added some lace details to give them a little character. It actually took me almost an hour just to decide on the right lace for my dresses. I kept comparing different patterns and imagining how each one would look with the fabric and the simple design I wanted. It may sound small, but it shows how much I care about the little details and how dedicated I am when it comes to making something look just right.
Crimson
Their lawn was actually very reasonably priced. Usually an unstitched designer suit costs somewhere around 16k, and once you add good lace work and stitching, it can easily go up to at least 25k. And most of their articles have silk duppata not organza. So honestly, their price point was a bit shocking in a good way. I also really liked how they focused on pastel shades as well as deeper, richer color palettes. The collection felt balanced — soft and summer friendly but still elegant enough for slightly formal wear. If you want designer wear on a budget you should definitely consider crimson.
Nishat
Again, the fabric is soft and breathable, which makes these pieces very versatile. I kid you not, the fabric is extremely soft — it feels almost like a feather on the skin. That kind of softness is exactly what makes summer clothing special because it keeps you relaxed even in the heat. You can lounge at home in it or step out for a casual, laid-back day without feeling overdressed. Pair it with a fresh blowdry and minimal makeup, and you are all set to catch up with friends effortlessly.
Image
The fit and fall of these outfits is everything. The delicate chikankari, short shirts, and loose fitted shalwars are my absolute favorite combination. Since I’m tall the silhouette falls even better on me and it just works. The red one has my heart but the baby blue and lilac are just as beautiful. I got the red when it had just launched and it sold out within days. I also love their plain scalloped dupattas and separate lowers. They offer such a beautiful variety of separates and it is definitely worth the price you pay. Definitely worth checking out.
Currently, this is what has been added to my wardrobe, and it’s all for summer wear. For me, comfort and fashion go hand in hand, especially in the Pakistani heat. I simply cannot wear something uncomfortable. Loose, well-fitted, soft fabric is what I reach for most of the time. It keeps me cool, comfortable, and stylish all at once.
I hope the coming time heals and brings peace to me and anyone reading this.
If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why?
If I could be someone else for a day, I would choose to be my grandmother.
When she got married and came into this family, she was completely alone. She had no support system, no lobby, and no one to defend her, especially since she came from a completely different family background. Despite this, she treated everyone with kindness and respect. She was extremely good to people, even to those who were jealous of her and secretly plotted against her or her children.
Many women in the family were insecure because she was more graceful, capable, and dignified than anyone else. Yet she never showed arrogance. She remained humble and carried herself with elegance. I often wonder how it feels to respond to envy and negativity with such calmness and grace.
People often tell me that I resemble her. That comparison is an honor, but it also makes me reflect deeply. I don’t feel like I am even half as strong as my dadi was. She faced difficult situations with patience and faith. She always told me to pray — in good days and in bad. She believed that prayer keeps a person steady through hardship and humble during ease. I think that is what helped her survive everything with dignity.
If I could be her for a day, I would want to understand her strength — how she stayed kind in the face of unkindness and calm while others secretly competed with her. A part of me sometimes wishes she had put people in their place. Still, her patience, faith, and quiet power are what make her truly remarkable. I would want to experience that inner strength and learn from it.
Life is never easy. It is a constant struggle. No one has it easy. Our times have become more complicated because of constant comparison, especially on social media. I prefer a simpler life — away from the spotlight, in peace, where people do not know my personal business.
I believe peace matters more than attention. And sometimes, distance is necessary, even from people related by blood. Because being family does not always mean being good.
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
Growing up has a way of quietly reshaping you. Not all at once, not with a single lesson, but through moments that leave a mark. Life doesn’t just age you—it matures you. It teaches you things you never asked to learn, but somehow needed to know.
One of the biggest shifts comes when you realize that adulthood isn’t about independence in the way we once imagined. It’s about responsibility—for your choices, your emotions, your healing. You start to understand that no one is coming to save you. That realization alone changes how you move through the world.
Losing a parent accelerates that understanding in a way nothing else can. Losing my father changed everything. When you lose someone who had your back unconditionally, someone who was a safety net simply by existing, the world suddenly feels sharper. Colder. You become acutely aware that it’s you, by yourself, standing against whatever life throws your way.
That kind of loss makes you vulnerable. It cracks you open. But it also gives you a strength you didn’t know you had. You learn how to deal with people on their level. You stop shrinking yourself. You stop explaining your boundaries. You learn when to be soft and when to stand firm—because survival has taught you discernment.
Time has also unmasked people. I’ve seen masks slip. I’ve seen intentions reveal themselves when things got uncomfortable or inconvenient. And because of that, my circle has become smaller—but infinitely more meaningful. I don’t need many people. I need real ones.
The people I keep close are the ones I trust. The ones who show up without needing to be asked. The ones who have my back, not just when it’s easy, but when it actually matters. These relationships are built on honesty, not performance.
I can’t be half-hearted friends anymore. I can’t pretend, dilute myself, or play a role just to keep the peace. I want to be around people who let me be fully, unapologetically myself—flaws, strength, softness, and all. Anything less feels like a betrayal of the life experiences that shaped me.
Significant life events don’t just change your perspective—they refine it. They strip away what’s unnecessary and leave you with what’s real. And while that process can be painful, it’s also freeing. Because in the end, you stop living for appearances and start living with intention.
And that, more than anything, is what growing up truly means.
Aba, you loved me deeply. So deeply that my expectations of life grew—not out of entitlement, but belief. Belief that I mattered. That I could take up space. That love could be steady.
Your love was never indulgent. Alongside warmth, there was guidance. You corrected me when I needed humility, grounded me when pride crept in, and showed me that care and discipline could coexist.
Through you, I learned what it meant to belong—not because I performed well or earned approval, but because I was yours. That belonging was quiet and certain. Something I carried without even thinking about it.
When you were alive, the world felt navigable. When you were gone, it didn’t. Life continued, indifferent to the emptiness left behind. It showed me how easily what is precious can be overlooked, misunderstood, or lost, and forced me to build resilience I never knew I had.
I am healing. I seem fine and put together—I take care of myself, I move through the world as though I have adjusted. But when no one is around, there are moments of emptiness, moments when I feel as though I might not matter at all. That feeling doesn’t mean I am failing to heal. It is the echo of having been loved in a way that made my existence unquestionable. Losing you did not just take a father from my life; it took the certainty of being someone’s first choice. And now, quietly and imperfectly, I am learning how to live in a world that does not pause for that kind of grief.
You may be gone, Aba, but the imprint of your love remains. I am leaving a digital footprint for my beloved father. In life, you were loved dearly, and in death, you are loved still.
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?
There is a lot of emphasis on living a very long life, but for me, longevity alone has never felt like the goal. What truly matters is the quality of life we live—being healthy, self-reliant, and mentally present.
As we age, health naturally begins to decline. After 50, many people face issues like heart disease, cholesterol problems, diabetes, weaker bones, and reduced physical strength. The idea of living very long while being completely dependent on others is frightening. Watching extremely old people struggle without independence is deeply heartbreaking.
That’s why I believe in prioritizing living well over simply living longer. Being able to take care of yourself, make your own decisions, and live with dignity matters far more than adding extra years to life.
I also believe it’s important to never compromise on what you want and don’t want in your life. You choose your values, your priorities, the people you allow close to you, and the life you build. Those choices shape the quality of your life more than anything else.
Having the right life partner—someone you can rely on and take responsibility for in return—becomes essential as life progresses. And just as important is ensuring your children’s lives are well settled. No one will ever love, protect, or prioritize them the way a truly loving parent does.
In the end, a meaningful life isn’t measured by how long we live, but by how consciously we choose to live—healthy, independent, and at peace with our choices.
