I remember the fear in my mother’s eyes...I remember the pounding of my heart. It was the first night my father came home drunk...

Growing up, I saw thousands of faces in my town. I was born in Kasur, Punjab, in Pakistan. Kasur is a very small city...

My parents married really young and had a total of 12 kids. Sadly, eight died in infancy, leaving them only four to raise...

My father made little money as a government officer and could not afford to take care of us kids...

I used to ask, “What is the purpose of educating young girls? What are they good for? Why would I ever want a daughter...

To me, my father, my so-called “hero,” single-handedly ruined my life and my family, all over a personal dispute...

My childhood was a distressing one because we never had enough to eat or spend on ourselves. Since I could remember, my father...

My story began before I was even born, when the traditional values of the Pakistani culture sunk into the hearts and minds of my parents...

You see, I was born to be a free bird. Starting from a very young age, I was fond of traveling, socializing with others, and exploring...

My city, Karachi, is simply magical. It’s one of the largest, most populated cities in the world and it is the economic hub of Pakistan...

Growing up, I spent countless hours playing the game, “Operation,” meticulously navigating the clip to avoid touching the metal...

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. This sentence pretty much sums up my whole life...

Located at the extreme north of Pakistan, Nathia Gali is considered to be one of the most beautiful and scenic places in Pakistan...

They say that daughters are a blessing, but that was not my reality. You see...for years, I blamed myself for my mother’s death...

I was expected to labor for the rest of my days and help support my family like every other child in my village. I was not supposed to be...

It’s not wrong to believe that life is unfair and difficult. But the thing is, that’s how it is for everyone...

I grew up watching how hard my father worked to earn bread for us. Because he was a mason, my father spent his days under the hot sun...

Did you get a good look at me? Yes? Look closer. You will see how I carry a laugh in each wrinkle and a song in each one of my beard hairs..

When I was three years old, I was diagnosed with a birth defect called phocomelia. Both my legs are defective, twisted and lifeless...

A life without its own identity is nothing but a shadow. It clings to another and hides from the sun...