I guess It's time to write this

I delayed writing this until the last minute, unsure of what to say. This month was full of sweet moments, and, oddly enough, in just three days, I’ll be celebrating my first anniversary as an author. Over the past year, I’ve had the chance to publish not one, but two books: The Roadtrip of Life and Tears in the Shadows. The experience has been both rewarding and overwhelming, leaving me grateful yet reflective.

The Roadtrip of Life was my first step into this world. It’s a gentle collection of poems, full of hope and growth, written as a form of therapy in a world that often feels noisy and overwhelming. When I wrote it, I wanted to create a soft place for readers, where they could find comfort and maybe a bit of healing, especially for those struggling with self-love and acceptance (now I still have mixed feelings with this book just like I shared previously). I’ve had readers tell me that reading The Roadtrip of Life felt like a coffee date with an old friend, a place to breathe. That’s one of the best things a writer can hear.

On the other hand, Tears in the Shadows was a much more challenging book to write and share. This collection is raw and emotional, diving into grief, heartbreak, and loss. Sharing it with the world was honestly terrifying (It still is) ; it felt like I was exposing my heart. But surprisingly, it was Tears in the Shadows that ended up shaping my identity as an author. This book reached people in ways I didn’t expect. Many have written to me about how it helped them feel seen and heard, and that has meant everything to me. As an eldest daughter, I know how it feels to shoulder quiet burdens. We’re often expected to be strong, so for my book to become a space where others can find comfort in their struggles is truly a dream come true.

For those who haven’t read my books, they’re available for free on Kindle until November 3rd. If you’re interested, please grab your copies here: mybook.to/TearsInTheShadows and mybook.to/TheRoadtripOfLife. Every download and every reader brings me closer to my goal as a writer, so thank you for taking the time to support this hopeful author.

I’m someone who clings to memories, who values looking back, who finds comfort in holding on to the past. Writing this letter feels like a chance to process all that’s happened in just a single year—a way to let myself feel every lesson, every moment. Life has a funny way of leading us to paths we never expected. There’s a certain vulnerability in sharing all this, but there’s also a sense of connection. And I hope these words resonate with you, too, in some small way.

In a world that often tries to define us by single titles, I wonder if we’re instead meant to be curious, to embrace all the things that make us whole. For me, STEM is a passion. Numbers, formulas, and technology speak to me; they bring order, reveal patterns, offer answers. There’s a beauty in logic, in knowing that with patience, solutions appear. But poetry—it holds another kind of magic. It allows me to sit with life’s messiness, to let words wander and flow without needing answers. Maybe, in a way, science and poetry aren’t that different. Both come from a desire to understand, to explore, to make sense of the world around us.

And this year was proof that I can be both—a writer and a lover of science. It’s kind of funny, really, because in the past, I used to hide the fact that I wrote poetry. I kept it tucked away, almost like a secret, afraid of what people might think. But now, I’m so proud of it. Okay, don’t get me wrong—I still won’t let my family look into my Notes app (that would be way too much!), but I love it all the same. Writing has taught me so much about what I want from life. I realized I want to live a life that feels whole and fulfilling, where I heal and grow, discover and find answers. This is me—this is Ikram.

From one side, I teach and work in the domain of technology. I love leaving an impact, even in our modern world. I like to learn and solve problems from different industries, so here I stand as the data scientist. In parallel, I’m the poet whose soul grew from the seeds of Mahmoud Darwish, Sylvia Plath, and many others. I started reading at a young age, and I fell in love with how art can be stronger than any tool in bringing change. I grew up listening to poems about freedom, love, and home, about emotions so complex they’re hard to capture in just a few words—just what it means to be human, with a beating heart.

And with that, I want to put a light on something we don’t talk about enough: vulnerability. Too often, we’re taught that being vulnerable is a weakness, something that leads others to pity us. I used to believe that, especially as an eldest daughter. Being vulnerable felt like admitting defeat. I thought it meant I wasn’t strong enough. I thought it meant that I always had to put on a brave face, that I had to be the one others could look up to. But I’ve come to see that being strong, being brave, being someone others respect—it all has the same foundation. And that foundation is simply being human.

To be human is to feel, to experience pain, to shed tears, and to be honest about what hurts. And I think that’s one of the biggest lessons this year has taught me. We don’t have to hide the parts of us that ache or struggle; instead, we can share them, knowing that these feelings don’t make us weak—they make us real.

Writing has been my way to express all these sides, to bring them into the light and understand them. And for that, I’m grateful. Through each poem, each reflection, I’m slowly learning to live a life that feels full and real, embracing both the strength and the softness within me. Thank you for being a part of this journey, for allowing me to be open, and for supporting me as I continue to grow.

I think I’ll end this letter here because, let’s be real—I’m rambling at this point, like I’m chatting with an old friend. If I keep going, this could easily turn into a 15-minute read! So, as my last note, I’ll say this: from here on out, you’ll see more poems from me, more sides of me, and all the little pieces that make up this journey. I hope, together, we can work toward our dream lives, whatever they look like, step by step. Here’s to the road ahead, full of promise, poetry, and all that life has to offer.

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for sharing this journey with me.

Untill next time,

Rusty Lanterns

A Ikram