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.
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.
We have always heard this quote on what goes around always comes around. We reap what we sow.
Over time, I’ve come to believe that karma and the cycle of life are real. People eventually face consequences for what they do, even if it seems like they’ve gotten away with deceit or fraud. It’s not just actions, but even negative intentions or harmful thoughts toward others that can come back later. Sometimes, those consequences don’t hit directly but affect someone close to you, pulling them into the cycle you created.
Where there is bad, there is also good. The kindness you show and the good you do come back to you and the people you love, bringing a sense of peace and contentment. When you move through life with empathy and care for how your words and actions affect others, that compassion finds its way back to you. Even though being gentle in a world full of hypocrisy can feel heavy, that sincerity is not lost—it returns to you and those closest to you in meaningful ways.
I’ve seen people become greedy over things that don’t even belong to them, and no matter how much they chase it, they’re never truly satisfied. Even when they get what they want, they don’t seem able to enjoy it—whether it’s money, land, or a house. You can see in how they live that their greed has made them small and stingy. In a way, that becomes their curse, and their lives turn into examples of what not to become. Misery follows them wherever they go.
In the end, I just hope we grow up around people we can truly look up to, people who lead by example and show us what it means to live with honesty, kindness, and integrity. I feel truly blessed to have had a father like my Aba, someone who showed me what real empathy looks like. His kindness and the way he lived will always be the example I carry with me.
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.
Life has a way of reminding us that everything we receive, every blessing, every opportunity, every piece of sustenance, is divinely destined. Even the fruit you are eating today traveled a long, unseen journey before reaching your hands. From the seed planted to the harvest, to the trader and the market, it all aligned perfectly to meet you at the right moment.
At times, I feel as if I was born in the wrong generation, surrounded by the wrong people. Yet even in those moments of doubt, I remind myself that Allah is Al-Razzaq — The Provider. As He says in the Qur’an:
“And there is no creature on earth but that upon Allah is its provision” (Qur’an 11:6).
Even the time and place where you will breathe your last and your final resting place are already written. Rizq, blessings, and life itself arrive with Allah’s perfect timing. What is meant for you will find you, nothing is misplaced, nothing is delayed. Trust in His plan and live with faith, peace, and gratitude.
