So much has changed in the last 10 years. And yet, the way our lives are screen-bound is still very much the same.

Curious to see how it ages over the next 10.

```javascript

function day() {

wake();

work();

rest();

repeat();

}

function wake(){

return "Rub that eye gunk away. Attempt to stretch and hop off of the bed. Check the phone. Start the gears of the mind. Let them start running, speeding up slowly. Brush your teeth as the mind begins to whirr with thoughts. Think of the messages to respond to. Think of the calendar for the day. What are the events? What needs to be done? What will you eat for breakfast?"

}

function work(){

return ["Move, move, move. Make sure those clothes are on right and that tummy is full of something nutritious and head out of that door. Wait at the bus stop, and watch the other cars go by speeding off to wherever-they-go. Hop on the bus and curse out the driver in the back of your mind for making you five minutes late. Sprint into the office and pretend you were on time and working like the rest of your colleagues.",

"Spin the mind in different directions now. Check the boxes. Type the numbers. Calculate a little. Don’t stop, keep going. Wonder when you’ll be paid. Make sure your sales are good. Check your email. Open the browser. See that picture of them having a picnic. If only you had the time."]

}

function rest(){

return [

"Stop. Yes, stop.",

"You heard me right.",

"No, no, not by opening another screen.",

"You’re doing it all wrong."

]

}

```

Building LokBros Studio was a major focus of 2025 and will remain so in 2026.

For those of you curious about of the details, the full story of the 2025 business journey is on the LokBros newsletter, which I hope you’ll subscribe to!

2025 was full of family, a weaving between work and play. There was the annual cooking competition, nights of prayer together, lively karaoke sessions, heated debates, and lots of leaning on each other. We celebrated milestones: Kaamil went on an adventure to Patagonia. Nabeel proposed to Nga. Jackie was maid of honor at a best friend’s wedding, and crushed her career goals.

It was a year in pursuit. I shed a layer of insecurity, willing to sound a little crazy, take risks, learn new tools, fail, and try again. It’s a year that bears the marks of foundation building, a year with curves and tangents that somehow belong to the same thread.

It was a year of flow: a yearning and focus to make something real — without some external goal as motivation. When seeds of doubt found themselves planted, they were eventually washed away by a deep trust in the Divine, a trust that confirms the path I’m on.

It was a year of technical learning: I deepened Ruby knowledge while diving into Elixir, learned a whole lot about go-to-market strategy and the new world of go-to-market engineering. I stepped out of typical text editors to use Helix and CLI-based AI tools.

It was a year of new friends and old: from collaborators and connections at Toucan events to folks from out of town visiting us in Boston, from celebrating close relationships at weddings to jamming for hours with online connects, I’m grateful to have fostered an in-person and distributed community who I lean on and love.

Some Highlights:

• Moved to Somerville, embracing the city.

• We launched an app to help people gather: flockUp. (A reimagining of the app is the in the works!)

• Hosted ambitiously-playful popups – from DIY galleries and musical shows to ticketed events where a large art studio turned into a playful bioluminescent jungle.

  • Acoustic Toucan (March)

  • Electric Toucan (May)

  • Peachy Toucan (August)

  • Moonlit Toucan (October)

• Activated 5+ more events — co-hosting meetups and adding our experiential tech.

• Signed a lease for a LokBros office

• Traveled to Mexico with Jackie for a getaway

• Explored Italy, getting a touristy taste of European perspective

• Energized myself with trips to NYC, hanging with friends new and old

• Visited Austin for the first time since we moved out in 2023

Into 2026

2026 promises to be another dynamic year, one where the doors are wide open to business, community, and adventure.

Some intentions:

• Share the journey. (Posting on LokBros brand new Substack!)

• Get vulnerable, ask for help, and listen intently.

• Be online to create in-person bridges.

• Host more meetups and events.

• Establish a new working cadence/culture in our new office.

• Less analysis and planning, more executing, asking, and conversing.

• Lean in with full-bodied yes-es only.

Here’s to an amazing year ahead.

If you’ve got a year in review, drop it in the comments! I love reading them.

I thought I’d want to live the way I grew up. Living in a city was a necessary evil, right? Maybe I’d live there just for work. But I’d find my way back in the peaceful suburbs. Full of noise and crowds and messiness… how could a life in the city be something enjoyable?

Finding Expansive Time

Love found me at the onset of the pandemic. And Jackie and I found ourselves in Austin. For the two years we lived there, it was a beautiful home. The people, community, and weather (mostly) was perfect for us.

But in the last 6 months, we felt increasingly restless, navigating the heat by jumping from AC’d-box to AC’d-box. The constant reliance on a car was grinding my patience to dust. We seemed to have capacity for one activity a day – even if it was just a trip to the grocery store.

Austin’s routine of work and car-bound life made time blur by. I don’t remember too much about 2022. It’s telling that I didn’t write an annual recap that year while my 2023 recap was filled to the brim.

There’s a psychological phenomenon known as “time compression.” When life is more routine, the sameness of each day blends into big blurs – punctuated by novel events; those small aberrations that ripple through a steady metronome.

Conversely, the days fly by when there’s lots of variety. Our memory, stuffed with experiences, make weeks feel like months.

Time expanded during our sabbatical in Asia.

We could do so much in one day. Was it just the wonder at seeing something new, a way of living I was beginning to deeply resonate with? Perhaps, but on reflection, there was a common thread between the places we stayed, large metros like Taipei and Kuala Lumpur – and smaller ones like Kaohsiung.

All were cities with walkable cores and reliable transit.

We felt better when we spent more time on our feet; when we could wake up, get outside, work, and then adventure to another corner of town for the evening.

Building Community

I write this a few months into a lease in Somerville, the eclectic neighbor of Boston and Cambridge. Many things I loved about Asia are missing here, and yet Boston’s little metropolis provides a similar flavor of expansive time.

I love living among people. Where people gather, experiences are created.

I walk to the grocery store, the gym, four different squares, libraries, and venues. I walk beneath neighborhood trees and the forested Community Path. For almost everything else, including visiting family in the suburbs, getting to the airport, and even heading to NYC, I hop on the train.

A car is still needed to transport gear for LokBros. And it’s still useful to get us further north, into the lakes and mountains, beyond the reach of the somewhat-decrepit commuter rail. But I rarely reach for it in daily life.

Mobility within a dense population full of interesting people, changes what’s possible in a day. And the possibility of a day changes the possibilities of a life.

It’s been mere months since we moved. But it’s felt long. Time compresses with frequent gathering: hosting interactive experiences while attending conferences, meetups, and salons.

When I can, in a day, stretch my capabilities with code, collaborate on new business ideas, attend a salon, and come back home to watch a Chinese drama with Jackie — the days feel short, the months feel long, and life feels full.

Living an urban life is living one with maximum openness to adventure. From city skeptic to grateful urban dweller, I wake up with one excited question: “where will my feet lead me today?”

What occupies my headspace most strongly is LokBros Studio, the company founded by myself and my brothers about a year ago.

The Studio

When we first started the business, the three of us brothers sought to help people wherever our expertise could. We attempted to “niche down,” following well-proliferated business advice these days. We dabbled in website design, backend development, media production, and SaaS. We ate up YouTube videos and tried on many hats.

In short, the first year of the studio has been one of calibration. We would dive into something, proclaim that “this is it” and through the experiences learn more about who we are, individually and all together.

LokBros is a Band

Kaamil, Nabeel, and I are learning what it means to work with each other. We’re learning how to give each other space, just hang out sometimes, calibrate with each others’ friends and families, and develop an inexplicable intuition about each others’ states of mind.

While we started by trying to make sure we were all equally involved in all activities, things have shifted into a much more effective rhythm. Now we own our specialities.

I’ve started to view the studio as a band. We each write certain songs, leading with the instruments we’ve mastered. We’ve got our own stories, interests, and tendencies, but we present ourselves as a unified team.

We each hold dear our own ambitions. And we’re encouraged to push the band the band creatively with our aspirations.

But individuality falls aside when we get on stage. The lights come on, and nothing else matters, except that we play the tune.

And truly, the jam is sublime.

Through the disagreements, early mornings, potential deals, rejections, and flub-ups, our focus has clarified: LokBros Studio is an interactive experience studio.

Toucan City

Last Fall, I attended an amazing event hosted by the great 1. At C3, a gathering of community builders in New York City, I found myself positively buzzing with inspiration.

Bringing my learnings back to Boston, we generated many, many, product ideas. All of the ideas (and a product) hovered around one thing: events – and gathering IRL.

We felt the best way to understand and solve gathering problems was to facilitate gathering ourselves. This was a bit of a risk. Facilitating gathering didn’t promise immediate buckets of revenue. We began with a small experiment – a house show at Kaamil’s place called Acoustic Toucan.

One thing led to another – we wrote a manifesto, and began building what is now called Toucan City.

Toucan City is a project to create immersive and artistic spaces that creates community. We’ve done three events so far, and the biggest one is on the horizon.

At Electric Toucan, we assembled a dream-team to turn a Somerville art studio into a bioluminescent jungle. It was filled with local artists’ work, Boston-based DJs, immersive games, and new friendships. With over 130 attendees, we were blown away.

We took a hard look at ourselves after that. Looking through those early internal docs and chats, it’s easy to spot our naiveties. It seems obvious now – our skills and interests converge on crafting interactive experiences.

Yet – I know we needed to wind through the road of exploration to get here. It’s one thing to hear advice. It’s another thing to absorb learnings ourselves. The only way to figure things out is to keep doing.

This band will keep hosting, crafting, shipping, and connecting. Who knows, we might have a Greatest Hits album one day.

Want to join the fun? Our next immersive event is on October 11, 2025. Moonlit Toucan tickets are live!

Want to jam on ideas? Email me anytime at hello@lokbros.com.

By crazy, I mean an electric-jungle themed pop-up – with music, art, and immersive experiences.

By we, I mean a talented crew of artists, techies, DJs, community builders, and maybe… you?

It’s an event called Electric Toucan.

Where it came from

Months ago, we hosted Acoustic Toucan — an art and music event in the Boston area. Gathering brought us so much joy and meaning that we began thinking our business should revolve around it.

In these early days of entrepreneurship, every bend of the river seems to rock the boat a little bit. But the ship has steadied on a purpose: gathering people and making gathering easier.

We’re in a season of rampant experimentation and maximum openness. Our compass has spun towards novel interactions, mixed reality, event apps, and technical integrations — from games, to hardware, to APIs.

Our client gigs are great, but none has leveraged our full potential — yet. To stretch the limits of our abilities, to show what we’re capable of, to show how cool events can be in Boston, we’re hosting Electric Toucan.

A collaborative canvas

When us LokBros dreamed up Electric Toucan, we grounded ourselves around the idea of creating a “collaborative canvas.”

Of course, this includes the venue, fabric artists, DJs, immersive installation builders, technologists, and those submitting 2D art which creates the space we’ll play in.

But attendees are collaborators too.

Creating origami at The Nest, drawing ephemeral Lightpaint images, taking photos in the Assimilation Photobooth, and watching how the dance floor responds to movement – Electric Toucan isn’t an experience meant to be consumed. It’s meant to be co-created.

This strange and bold plan of ours is a statement about creativity, and poses a question about what happens when we energetically gather together.

Commerce and Creativity

The best events facilitate magical connections. They’re containers for people to find themselves in one another. This is true in every sphere of life, including business.

There’s a lot that goes into making an event happen. A venue, caterer, and a marketing strategy is a lot, let alone adding creativity to the gathering itself.

What if there were more novel ways for people to share space, break the ice, and find play? What if attendees could be impacted profoundly? What if hosts had a better sense of how attendees felt, or which attendees interacted the most?

We play in the nebulous “what if.”

At Electric Toucan, we’re going all-out on our creativity to test our hypothesis: gathering matters, it can generate energy, and by watering seeds of curiosity and creativity, we’ll find opportunity in ways we haven’t dreamed up yet.

Will you be in Boston May 23rd? I hope to see you at Electric Toucan!

Get your ticket

Not in Boston but curious about anything in this post? Let’s talk.

I love how unexpected connections lead to some of the greatest conversations. My calendar is open for curiosity calls: https://cal.com/saaliklok/curiosity-call]

Grab a spot or send me an email if you want to jam: saalik@thespoonful.blog

I’ve been business building! In the summer of 2024, the seed that sprouted into LokBros Studio was watered by a few websites and social media reels for clients.

Once the three of us were full-time in January, we rallied around a vision of gathering people. Our first dive into the community building space was flockUp. It’s a product that helps hosts use SMS to invite their people to events.

We launched in February with many development hours and much excitement around the launch. But the market wasn’t clear enough. We kept learning, asking questions, and pivoting.

As we offered more video services, we found ourselves to be an engagement partner for events, conferences, and digital platforms. At the intersection of video, software, and gathering lies a trove of ideas for connection.

We help events come to life and stay etched in attendees memories. We have the bread and butter: conference apps, ticketing, recording, and livestreaming. But we have our LokBros secret sauce too. We’re a single vendor that handles traditionally siloed functions, and that gives us a bunch of creative ideas to play with.

From fully-branded virtual event sites, to analyzing event data, we also add gamification, community integrations, and immersive installations, building bespoke for each event.

And since we’re working with events, we’ve started hosting them too! Some of the tech we’ve developed will be on display at our next event in Boston. More details on that soon… 👀

The Recap

In keeping with the spirit of these recaps, here’s what I’ve published since Season 6.5.

Photo Journal: Sabbatical in the East

I was (read, am) experiencing writers block around capturing the changes my time abroad has brought about within me. Thanks to one of my best friends and fellow writer , I was encouraged to start sharing my experience with a photo journal. Interspersed with my journal entries, this turned out to be one of my favorite pieces.

Why I’m building a business with my family

This piece sets a personal backdrop for why LokBros Studio began. It captures the larger vision of this quest, distinct from any pivots the business might experience.

Poem: The Edge of Ability

I’ll leave the reader to decipher the vibe and inner meaning this poem holds. All I’ll say is that it captures this season of growing.

Onward

This season of life and work is one of practice. Some days the practice flows smoothly, and others it’s tough and confusing. But the practice continues.

That includes writing here. I may not post with a set cadence, but I aim to be reading and commenting more here on Substack.

We're working with incredible people who put on events and engage their attendees. We're embracing AI as a tool while focusing on the human elements that technology can't replace. We're learning the rhythm of service work while laying the foundation for the products we want to build.

The tension between aggressive monetization and sustainability is real. We want to grow through genuine relationships, partnerships, and ethics. This takes time, and requires patient relationship-building. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Our eyes are on something more enduring.

Let’s talk! I love how unexpected connections lead to some of the greatest conversations. That’s why I’m opening up my calendar for curiosity calls: https://cal.com/saaliklok/curiosity-call

Grab a spot or send me an email if you want to jam: saalik@thespoonful.blog

Til next time,
Saalik

Sharpened with iron in cool water
The edge of ability
Splits the hair of
Banal judgements
And silly croissant talk

The pulling stretch induces
Gasping, difficulty, pinching
That’s what adds the fire
To keep the blade ready
For today’s legend

Birthed from pages
Written on glass screens
That make the fate
Of the big people
Real

Devotion to study
Esoteric stars
Makes us strange
To noisy strangers
And yet that’s the key

The moon’s anthem
Whispers philosophies
Which add questions
And eventually resolve
The dagger’s hilt

Is pearl-studded
And the iron gleams
A challenge
a plea
At the edge of ability.

~ May 2024
Istanbul Türkiye

While forms of surnames existed in India for centuries, they were formalized under British colonial rule. Our community primarily consisted of Gujarati Muslim merchants – and we were named after our wares.

Lokhand (iron) + wala (seller-person) became “Lokhandwala.” 

I’m not sure when the business first began. But I do know that my great-grandfather turned a shop selling iron and steel into a local empire. Rows of godowns2 were filled with inventory. And it was a family affair, not run without drama. Sibling rivalries and questionable investments added a certain chaotic color to life.

But it was theirs. In a way, it was ours, too.

I used to think that working with family or friends was dangerous. Business is a fickle friend, and money can destroy relationships. I had internalized the way corporations run business. I admired the speed, tenacity, and even ruthlessness involved.

To be ambitious, I thought, we must lean into total independence. Everyone’s role had to be discrete. Predictable. Emotionless. If I had to depend on anyone, it would be those whose loyalties lay with coin, not community.

When I joined tech companies to understand their systems, I was surprised to find that I derived more satisfaction from building bonds with my colleagues.

Nine months in Asia took this insight to a new level.

I saw Taiwanese shopkeepers training their nephews, Malaysian daughters who steered into new markets, Turkish cousins opening doors for each other. I was a quiet witness to the dance they maintained between life’s messiness and the nuts and bolts of making a living.

All the while, I was reminded of my family back in Boston. The raucous laughter and impassioned debates. There’s something about the family’s energy I discerned – something ineffable. It carries a deeper purpose and resilience than traditional corporate structures.

This summer, after months in Asia, the plane’s wheels touched down. The glimmering Massachusetts bay greeted us, bidding us stay, welcoming us home. My intention was to find footing while staying true to the compass that had led to and sustained my travels.

I sought a dedication to craft, tinkering, and service. The obvious play was to get another software engineering job, chugging along a clear cut trajectory.3 But my inner ambition craved a game more infinite.

During my travels, a niggling idea had surfaced. What if I could come back to the States and not need to get another job? What if I could work with my family?

I’m a product-minded, business-background software engineer. Kaamil also builds software – but has a bend toward game development and visually animated frontends. Nabeel produces media – with a speciality in video production and editing.

After signing a contract with a local business, the three of us found ourselves at the helm of a new venture. At the intersection of our skillsets, an aptly named LokBros Studio harmonizes media production and software development.

A typical reaction I get when I tell people I’m working with my brothers is one of mild shock. This must be a difficult and hairy endeavor, they tell me.

They’re not entirely wrong. Life takes on a distinct flavor when work and family life intermingle. It’s not as simple as clocking in and clocking out. There are days where our heads are consumed in so much work that one of us has to break it up and throw down some boundaries. “We can work on this for five more minutes… then let’s watch some anime.”

But despite the challenges of weaving in and out of a family-working context, we understand that LokBros Studio represents something more than a path to financial independence. It’s sacred ground to create novel digital experiences in the 21st century – all while following the footsteps of our forefathers.

Years ago, Dad would daydream about creating a “Lokhandwala and Sons” – but I always scoffed at the idea.

Today, his dream is mine, too.

Big thank you to Dad, , , , , , , and for feedback and discussions on this piece.

This post — a collection of photos and journal entries — recaps nine months of nomadic travel. Here I share some of the sights I captured and some of my raw thoughts as we experienced it — without adding too much context.

It’s not in strictly chronological order. Rather, it winds and weaves through the lens of my phone camera and the scribbles of my journal.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Yes, yes, it’s only been a few days in Kuala Lumpur – today is our third, to be precise. BUT - I already love this place. As Uncle Jagan said yesterday on our tour, the vibrations feel right. I haven't felt a resonance for a place like this since Austin. I’m glad we get to be here for at least a month.

Malaysia feels like the Asian equivalent of wonderful, peaceful, and safe countries in the West. Kind of like Denmark or something. It's not competing for world domination, but it has an energy that's palpable.

I don't know where the adventure leads, but it feels clear that I have a strong love for this part of the world.

There are a couple downsides to Malaysia, chief for Jackie is managing the heat. KL is mall-heavy, which also isn’t always fun. And yet, in almost every other category I love Malaysia, and think it’s an amazing place.

Doha, the stopover city

There’s a sense of growth and buoyancy here…

The East is so underrated. My goodness. Doha's sustainability efforts, their ingenuity. KL's infrastructure and culture.

It might just be me, but I think it blows the Western world away.

Taiwan

We arrived in Taiwan from cheery and vibrant Malaysia. And the lack of color in Taiwan shocked us.

Besides the bright red Chinese temples, it felt as though there was a veneer of gray over many things. It was quieter. The food tasted muter. When first faced with it, it feels colorless, maybe a little melancholy.

But the more time we spent there, the more we realized that this grayness was actually an invitation to listen harder and look deeper. Subtleties add all the color these places need. Look hard enough and every blade of grass, every quiet whisper, every eyebrow twitch and precisely placed chopstick can roar.

Taipei

I stroll through these city streets, with my head full of thoughts, and the alleys bring me back to reality.

Jiaoxi

I want to soak up all of this. Even if I can’t capture it in words, I’ll attempt to remember the essence. I’ll remember so that I can tap into a reservoir when I need to access beauty.

Kaohsiung

Sitting in this little Kaohsiung coffee shop, a quiet corner called “Auntie’s” I’m inspired by its quiet and peaceful embrace. These simple spaces are the most beautiful and vibrant to me these days.

I want the things I create in the digital realm to have this same level of understated and thoughtful craftsmanship.

I like these moments because I’m en route and forced to sit still.

Japan: Tokyo and Kyoto

It’s hard not to be enamored if you’re an admirer of systems. Things in Taiwan and Japan just work. Little signs, curves of passageways, and ticket transactions are intentionally placed. All cases are meticulously considered.

There was a pervading quiet on the little streets of Kyoto. I stopped on the bridge to stare at the silent river that ran through. The streets seemed to be busy with people getting from place to place – but despite the city’s fullness, a quiet lay over everything. No one rushed by anxiously. Many stopped by me on the bridge, giving themselves a few minutes to stare at the river as well.

Chiang Mai, Thailand

This is one of the best ways to wake up: to a rooster’s crow and the songs of birds in Chiang Mai, Thailand

Writing this from the mountaintop Buddhist temple outside Chiang Mai. I’m feeling grateful, empowered, and aligned. Things feel like they’re coming together. Stepping out of Taiwan to come here has provided me with so much space, clarity, and feedback.

More Malaysia

A few months into traveling, and I have a strange feeling -- it feels happily normal and awesome not to have a home base, and I'm also pining for a place to live, simultaneously.

Kota Kinabalu

I bounce between scarcity and abundance — a dance between being an expert and imposter. I’ve come to realize that this is a sign of learning, and I pray I’ll maintain this humility in all my seasons of life.

Holidays in Kuala Lumpur

Diwali, Chinese New Year, Ramadan (by row)

Whenever there’s a holiday here, everyone knows and everyone celebrates. The vibe is electric.

It’s incredible to be spending this Ramadan with so many other people fasting. It’s so different from my experience in the US. The bazaars on the streets and in the malls add a flavor of festivity I’ve never experienced.

Detours: Malacca, Ipoh, Cameron Highlands

It’s so funny how confused people are about what we’re doing. Kinda makes me happy that we’re living life in such an illegible way.

Wandering the streets of Malacca is a way to get the thoughts flowing. I love these wanders. Coffee helps too.

This combination is my recipe for inspiration — hot cup, pen, journal, and compute power.

Penang

I wander between life potentials as I wander to different cities — and wander within each of them.

Sitting here in a little Penang Nasi Kandar, I realize how far we’ve come on this journey and how much more there is to go… the deeper questions are hard to grasp. The flickers of inspiration struggle to coalesce.

Egypt, from the Nile to Sinai

Just flew from Penang to Dubai, en route to Cairo. Interesting convos on the plane ride. Strangely I feel my people-pleasing tendencies turned all the way up. I feel like I want to be validated, understood — when my current state is so far from understandable.

But I keep praying. I must travel with purpose. The purpose now is to expand the vision of possibility, to invite rewiring, to feel confident in the ways I’m different, to be fully myself.

Sailing down the Nile River, and there’s so much to untangle, process, and ponder. Wow. That first sentence sounds like it’s out of one of the novels I read as a little kid. It’s otherworldly to be here.

These scraps of thought lead to endless rabbit holes — but somehow my mind is slow and weary with transition.

Solarpunk Singapore

Singapore can definitely make one feel poor. It’s a stunning city. There are many lessons to learn in the delicate, intricate dance of managing this city, even if I couldn’t imagine myself here forever.

It feels kinda like NYC or SF — I wouldn’t choose it as a first-choice of where to be, but if my path and work led me here, I’d be remiss to say I wouldn’t consider it.

Sustainability, finance, and technology flourishes here. And those in the region that are its lagging peers (Bangkok, Manilla, Kuala Lumpur, Ho Chi Minh, Jakarta) are likely taking notes.

Perhaps Singapore can tell the future for the cities in the region.

Istanbul

How can I write any lucid reflection on transition, sabbatical, perspective, identity — when I’m still in the midst of it? If it all swirls, how can I see it? I need the distance of time and the grounding of stability.

Sitting in this cafe in Europe, we leave the old world behind. It’s surreal the day is here.

What I pine for right now is clear air and forests, a steady desk that gratefully shows up for work every morning. A cup of cocoa and a cat on a lap. Doesn’t it sound totally opposite of whatever I wrote about a year ago – when the planning for this trip was happening in earnest?

Coming Back — New England

There’s a romanticism to travel. But the insights and learnings come far after the romanticism fades. When a new way of living will question whatever you knew before.

I feel more and more optimistic about going back to the US. Being close to family and friends feels so good. Joining clubs, finding new friendships, and getting to work sounds amazing too.

I’m back at Mom and Dad’s on what feels like a typical yet bizarre Friday morning. It’s quiet here in New England. What a gift this quiet is. In a few hours, this table will undoubtedly be full of food and laughter and stories. It’s good to be home… until the next adventure.

Publishing this on The Spoonful punctuates a life chapter, and opens the gates to a new one. I hope this you’ve enjoyed this little lens into the journey.

Essays are on the way.

Every beginning is like this. It’s a clean page with an expectantly blinking cursor. A flurry of words is excitedly hurled upon it as the story begins.

The way down is different.

It’s a fog of tangled legs. Flickers of memory arise — a barren peak, the taste of cool water, a whooshing breath of breeze. But enlightenment feels more like a shower and a hot bowl of soup. Glowing canopies fade away in the blur of human needing. The once magical forest is now a never-ending tunnel that leads to a blessed parking lot.

It’s hard to write on the way down. The cursor slows in confusion. The pages become heavy with questions. What was this hike for? Why did it begin? Did I really reach the peak? Was it truly a successful summit?

I love the way down. Within the weight of the questions, there is hidden treasure — the essence of the climb’s purpose.

The Recap

Writing this in my first hours back home in Boston – after almost 9 months of wandering travel – I feel how life is changing. It’s time to embrace what’s next.

This is a little season of The Spoonful (which I’m calling Season 6.5).

When the pieces below were published, we were spending our last few days in Kuala Lumpur. It was a moment of calm before a flurry of travel that drained my ability to publish.

I had joined the fantastic Write of Passage bootcamp, and while I didn’t dive into the live aspects in the latter half of this cohort as much as I expected, it served as a the container to write these pieces:

Within these discrete chunks of living, imagination and commitment weave together, creating a beautiful patch in the quilt of life.

We allow serious work to find us by tinkering, contributing, and sharing.

The Spoonful Sabbatical Season

There are many half-finished essays lingering in my backlog. I’m resolved to complete them, starting with a season of reflections on travel.

They will be observations and lessons from each of the regions I visited. Titles (and even content) is tentative, but here’s what I’m thinking:

• The Romantic Solitude of the East (Taiwan, Japan)

• Vibrant Harmony of Southeast Asia (Malaysia, Thailand, Singapore)

• Lessons from The Middle World (Qatar, Egypt, Türkiye)

It’ll cap off with a piece (or two) that summarizes learnings of the trip and dives into the tactical things that my wife and I did to make it happen.

As always, thank you for reading. It feels good to be hitting the publish button again. Prayers and love. See you in the next one!

Snap of the Week

In the space of a conversation, life catapulted into a new beginning.

I live by the rule: “life is lived in seasons.” A season is a life stage. It could be a few weeks long, or it could stretch on for years.

Within these discrete chunks of living, imagination and commitment weave together, creating a beautiful patch in the quilt of life.

Free to Imagine

This rule gives me permission to reinvent myself, over and over again. When I stepped away from my job, I wasn’t stepping away from working at a company forever. I wasn’t even stepping away from the same company forever. I simply decided that there was a different way to live for now.

A season of working, learning, and renting an apartment in Austin transformed into a nomadic season of self-discovery, leveling up, and wandering in Asia. The next season seems pointed towards settling in the northeast US, finding community, and doing ambitious work. (But who knows how it will unfold.)

The possibilities are always open.

Invited to Commit

Simultaneously, this rule has its restrictions.

A season is dedicated to a particular way of being. As much as I’d like to live every type of life imaginable, my time on this earth is finite.

With this rule, I’m not allowed to live a hundred contradictory ways at once. (It would be very hard to be a settled-down nomadic traveler.) A dedicated season is an invitation to dig in, get deep and be present.

With the push to commit and the boundless space to imagine, I aim to live in the gales of seasonality, embracing the storms and sunshine along the way.

This piece was written as the result of a prompt from the Write of Passage bootcamp. I’m grateful to be participating in my second cohort!

Snap of the Week

I carefully placed the last pillow. It was done. With a flourish, I swung around to face my brothers and cousins, debuting “The Wyvern’s Den.” It was a grand and green pillow fort, with a wide opening and an extra tall ceiling (thanks to chair-stacking technology).

For an Indian-American kid who grew up in the Boston area, my 8th and 9th grade were not typical years. Suburban New England life was upended when we moved to a spacious apartment on top of my grandparents’ hospital in Karachi, Pakistan. It was the first time I had a bedroom to myself.

The interior was expansive, but the scene outside was decidedly unromantic – situated on a hot, trafficked, and sometimes smelly road. Our friends lived in bungalows on the other end of town – where the Arabian sea laps against the mighty flow of the Indus River Delta. Other than the joyous sound of the ice cream cart mingling with honks of traffic, there wasn’t much excitement.

And yet, that hospital apartment became a bastion of creativity. It started with a game, when the five of us – my brothers, cousins and I – decided to open “shops” to sell each other trinkets and knick knacks.

Little pieces of aluminum foil that we called “Silverados” were minted by the two youngest ones, Adam and Nabeel. It was the currency of our markets. Among the wares sold were fairies, dragon den pillow forts, relics from ancient civilizations, and paper-crafted ninja stars.

The years in Pakistan changed my life. I increasingly feel like they saved my life. It was an otherworldly time – plucked straight from a dream. They gave me permission to be distinct, to create unabashedly, simply because creating was fun. Somehow, living on top of a hospital in a foreign country can create that space.

The little pillow fort business was a tinkering experiment that became infinitely more meaningful when I saw how others delighted in it. The Wyvern’s Den was popular for studying in, so I adjusted the fort to let more natural light in. My motivation shifted from the inherent fun of fort-building to making things better for others.

It felt honorable to be of service, even if all I was doing was making pillow forts. This feeling of being helpful – and its accompanying desire to build – has never left me.

Today’s Tinkering

Perhaps I feel nostalgic for these childhood creativities because sabbatical days have a similar fragrance. Straddling life between East and West, I’m in a similar place of play, doing things just for the sake of it.

I’ve published a poetry book with a free online reading experience, helped my Mother-in-law move in Taiwan, built web apps like one for scribbling nascent thoughts, and another for sharing Obsidian notes as public documents.

I’m that 8th grader again, gleefully assembling pillow forts in an odd corner of the world. Maybe there’s homework I’m neglecting: pursuing a predictable career path, tracking my net worth, or investing in real estate. And yet, tinkering feels important at this junction.

While disconnected to outcomes by design, today’s pillow forts can become architectural wonders. Last time, The Wyvern’s Den led to learning technology and business in college. What will happen now?

Whether a new job, a freelance gig, or a business venture awaits, I know the words and code that play in this internet city are already conspiring to write my next chapter.

We allow serious work to find us by tinkering, contributing, and sharing.

There’s a tension, the gap between what the work wants and what the person paying for it wants. Dancing in that gap is the work of creating our art.

~ From The Practice by Seth Godin

With time to tinker, what can you produce? Where would your next chapter lead you? These are trick questions. No one knows. Because there’s only one way to find out.

Thank you to Kaamil and Jackie for reading the first drafts of this piece.
Thank you to , , and Tim Potter for feedback and ideas on the rewrite.

Snap of the Week

The perfect place to tinker.

Amid a mountain of Malaysian meals, my parents and brothers visited KL to hang with us. It’s been energizing to be with them in person.

On my birthday, I celebrated the release of A Spoonful of Poetry. It’s been so gratifying to see people connecting with these words.

On Soul Projects and Sustenance

Life has a distinct scent of adventure and I’m determined to keep it that way. Our tickets back to the US are booked. On our return, I’m committed to following a realistic approach to finding income while not landing completely back into practicality’s palm.

I believe that I can do deeply aligned work that sustains me. The poetry book swings far in the soul direction. It’s an intentional gift without commercial expectation. It’s time to explore another side of the coin.

Solo projects and those with collaborators are beginning to blossom. (If you’re interested in working together or experimenting, let’s chat!)

The Recap

With the book coming out, this season has been light on essays:

The Internet City: Seeing the Internet as a giant playful city has changed the way I spend my energy online. This piece explores the metaphor at a high level. It’s one that continues to shape my thinking around this online world. There may be more coming in this vein.

Wow, the world is big: This playful stream-of-consciousness captures the romanticism of travel, as told by my inner child.

With the poetry book coming out, I included a couple poems on the blog as a sneak peek. I intend on sharing more poetry here every now and then.

• The Time I Dove (Into a Dream)

• Same // Difference

The Spoonful’s Next Season

Ramadan is around the corner, and I’m curious to experience it in Malaysia. After lots of fun time with the family, I intend to find a rhythm in fasting and doing some local exploration. I’m dedicating space to submerge into the pages of books, including the Quran.

I also plan on being more generative with this keyboard. It’s been fun to collect experiment ideas over the past couple months. Now it’s time to get them in the wild.

Expect Season 7 to be a longer one. The publishing cadence might slow. Honoring the commitment in my last recap, I'm striving to write essays that take quality thinking and pondering.

As always, thank you for following the adventure.

Snap of the Week

Sabbatical has unleashed my creativity. And today, my birthday, I’m publishing a culmination of this creativity – a short poetry book: A Spoonful of Poetry.

It’s free to read online. The online reading experience is powered by a website I programmed, and it lets readers browse, share, and link to poems on the web. It’s an unconventional medium, and I’m interested to see how you like it!

This project fuses my love of poetry and programming. On the surface, programming and poetry seem to be disparate crafts. But when tangled together, they sing a beautiful harmony about the nature of life.

Those who dismiss poetry blind themselves to beauty. Those who dismiss code can’t reason through a rational world.

Our lives are totally practical and completely unfathomable, all at once.

It’s at this peculiar intersection where I’ve written and built – I hope you enjoy reading.

You can read A Spoonful of Poetry online or order a copy if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading.

The world is a place of awkward dimensions.
The world as I see it, constantly changes.
Like tides and seasons, ebbing and flowing.
Like breath, in and out, in and out.
Yet no two waves make the same splash
And no two breaths breathe the same air
And no two hearts beat the same blood
Although the rhythms can sync and become One.

Bring me to any mountain, ocean, or stream,
I’ll show you what I mean.
The moments we spend here will hardly be wasted
For the vision we’ll gain and the stories we’ll tell
Of the sights that we see, and flavors we smell
Will pile upon experience, like bales of golden hay
And we’ll sing and dance as we realize:

Every life, day, and moment
Is always different,
and always the same.

This poem will be included in my upcoming poetry book: A Spoonful of Poetry. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, leave a 🤍.

A Spoonful of Poetry will be live for all to read on February 25, 2024.

Nestled in my childhood home, my Dad’s desktop was a portal to digital discovery.

Tech for Grown Ups

As I grew, so did my relationship with the internet. I felt the childhood spark fade, giving way to “grown-up responsibilities.”

In high school, I had naive designs to be a high-tech-super-smart-very-impactful-making-the-world-a-better-place startup founder. I had a sense that the internet could shape realities in inexplicably powerful ways. I wanted to be a shaper.

Being a shaper meant that the internet became a place to extract value. Every post and interaction was linked to perceived success. “How do I sell a million subscriptions to this rando on LinkedIn???”

There was a performative aspect that was decidedly high pressure. No wonder Twitter felt more like an arena than a playground.1

I laugh at my boyish ambitions now, but not because they weren’t serious. I still want to make a difference, but I’ve found a better version of the game. My mental model of the internet has changed — and it all relates to collaboration, generosity, and citizenship in The Internet City.

A Playful Metropolis

The internet is a connective technology. Ultimately, it’s a bunch of computers that send messages to each other. The internet’s entire existence reflects the natural human need to be social.

This reflection can’t be overlooked. The internet world is not separate from our physical reality. The two worlds carry into and out of each other. The line between them continues to blur.2

In the most innocuous way, we bring our values and energy from the physical world into online spaces. We collaborate with others over vast distances, timezones, and cultures.

The internet is a giant city. Playful elements abound.

Like New York, Tokyo, London, and Mumbai — The Internet City can be overwhelming and noisy.

Like New York, Tokyo, London, and Mumbai — The Internet City is full of secret, quiet corners.

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Busy Squares and Construction Sites

I’ve started to think of each website I visit (and build) as a physical place. A website is a whole neighborhood, and each page is like an apartment building, or a shop. When I’m mindfully browsing the web, I like to look around and question: what kind of place is this? Is it a chic storefront? Is it a comfortable meeting spot?

To comprehend the scale of the internet, imagine that websites (neighborhoods) can be roughly grouped together into a city district. Here are a few of the districts, with AI art renderings of what they might look like.

Social Media Square is bustling. Connections are being made. Occasionally, shady business dealers throw pamphlets around. The noise is intense, and fights can break out. There are corners where uproarious laughter blossoms, and it’s easy to meet lots of people. (Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, LinkedIn)

Community Central has a bunch of cozy coffee shops and tea houses where friends or almost-friends gather to discuss deeply. These places might be quiet, and they might be buzzing. (Circle, Discourse)

Groupchat Corner is where collaborators huddle and friends chatter noisily. They’re sitting streetside, on plastic chairs, commiserating and laughing at some inside joke. (Telegram, WhatsApp, Signal)

Blog Base is a district with a collection of museums and art studios where people visit to have meaningful learning experiences, sometimes even getting to speak with the artists themselves. (Substack, WordPress sites)

Experiment Alley is stuffed with active construction. People here play with new ways to connect and share, reveling in the ability to build from scratch. (Bluesky, Mastodon, Farcaster)

There are far more districts in this vast metropolis: Work Street (Notion, Basecamp, Trello) and Mega Bazaar (Amazon, Walmart, Etsy) among them. I’m sure you’ve frequented others that I’ve missed.

Running The Internet City

Internet City’s got a couple features that make it totally different than cities in the physical world.

The distance between buildings and districts don’t matter here. You can pop in and out of them at will. All you need to know is the address. There are lots of companies dedicated to finding and presenting the best addresses to visit.

There’s also no mayor for the whole of The Internet City. Different districts operate with different protocols. Individual neighborhoods (websites) enforce their own standards, rules, and abilities.3

Each neighborhood powers itself, and keeps itself connected (or walled off) to the rest of the city. Server administrators and cloud hosting providers create connective highways and generate power to keep it running.

We, the City Builders

As you read this on your device connected to the internet, recognize that you are both a builder and participant of The Internet City.

You may be a developer, constructing towers or transit systems. You may be in sales, ushering people into boutique stores or a newly opened roller coaster. You might be a teacher, hosting a tai chi class in the park.

You may frequent a couple districts or hang out in all of them! Every word, song, or video that gives you delight is a moment of presence in the sprawl of digital humanity.

The Internet City is a more tangible place than “the web.” Within it, we notice how our contributions add to the fabric of humanity. Within it, we’re invited to experiment. Its happenings matter, not just within itself, but to the mental, emotional, and material worlds beyond.

Write that essay. Publish that podcast. Ship that software. I’ll see you on the city streets.

Thank you to Kaamil, , and Jackie for their invaluable feedback on this piece.

LET’S JAM IN THE COMMENTS 👇
Does this metaphor resonate with you? What district of The Internet City do you hang out in the most?

Leave a comment

Sleep took my hand and pulled me underneath
To the world where colors swirl and salty sweet air breathes.
Here lay the dormant titans of lumbering consciousness
Likely to rear their heads and find their way inside.

Upon leaving the waking world behind, there's a fuzz
A gap in space-time unfilled
Burdened by the desire to recall and experience
A state of existence so unlike our own.

In the World of Dreams, the profound meets the profane.
The subtle meets the shout of superficiality
And it all churns in this endlessly boiling pot
Steaming and frothing and suspiciously concocting.

To the journeys they lead me on, I question
Why have I arrived at this moment?
Where shall my wings fly when the snap of darkness ends?
Sunlight spilling on tired eyelids yields no ideas.

And yet, the mystery is in itself
A great truth.

This poem will be included in my upcoming poetry book: A Spoonful of Poetry. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, leave a 🤍.

The poetry book is such a personal project. I’m pouring a lot of my soul into it. My emotions around its publication teeter between fear and exhilaration.

So I’m committing to a publish date that’s personal, too.

The book will be live for all to read on my 28th birthday, February 25, 2024.

The world – wow! This place is so big. How did I never see it? I knew it before, but I never knew it.

People say that the world is so small, and that it’s becoming smaller. There’s a children’s song about it, after all. The world might be small-er, but it’s not small.

Just because we read something on a screen doesn’t mean that we know the feel of the streets, the sway of the crowds, the taste of the cuisine, the buzz of the evenings, the weight of the air. Within every detail lives a hundred thousand more — totally distinct to a particular place.

Hubris, hubris, hubris. I’ve seen the hubris within myself. I started to see it when I shouldered my pack, closed the car door at the dealership, and felt a boarding pass in my palm.

This. place. is. huge. There are people of all kinds, buildings of all sorts. Even the bathrooms come alive in different ways. (I was greeted by a toilet that automatically opened for me in Japan. Automatically! For me! I was flattered.)

The bigness has me giddy, and my eyes try to soak up every cobblestone, leaf, and pebble. I know I can’t experience it all at once, so I pray that I’ll be back to see these trees and stones again.

The World’s wideness
Is an endless blessing

Within its pathways
There might be a cozy corner
Waiting for your sitting, resting, being.

It’s important to stop
When those eyes are so wide with wonder
Lest we lose the message
In our heart’s whisper.

Snap of the Week

Hello from Tokyo, and Happy New Year everyone!

2024 is going to be fun. There’s lots more bubbling beyond The Spoonful. For now, let’s just say that I’m having a lot of fun traveling, experimenting, and embracing the creativity of software development.

The first project of the new year is a poetry book, titled “A Spoonful of Poetry.”

A Spoonful of Poetry (volume 1)

I’ve been writing poetry for years, but it’s been tucked away. Now, I feel called to share it.

A Spoonful of Poetry delves into identity, work, craft, love, spirituality, and growth. Capturing truths little and large, it holds poems I’ve written from 2019-2023, and has four small chapters.

I would feel sad if I didn’t have the courage to share these words. If a single poem stirs a heart, or creates a resonance, the project is a success.

Beyond a writing project, A Spoonful of Poetry is also a software project. I’m building an online reading experience, where anyone can read the book for free. I’m also building an online bookstore to handle any purchases for the ebook, audiobook, and physical versions.

I’m expecting to release it to the world early 2024, and it’ll be available at poetry.thespoonful.blog

The Recap

The past few weeks have been a struggle to publish consistently because of my physical environment changing every few days. And yet, I’m happy with the pieces I published during this time.

I’m especially grateful to have been publishing with relative consistency for 5 seasons of The Spoonful!

On Thinking Nooks
On spaces that we write and think in, and the introduction of my side project, Scribble.place.

Thunderstorms and Lemonade
A piece that recounts the tale of how we moved out of Austin and how surrender led us to peace.

The Tangled Traveler
Thoughts on transitions felt during travel, in both the inner and outer worlds.

2023, A Year in Review
A reflection on the past year, and a preview of this one to come.

Essays with more

I’ve always enjoyed reading (and attempting to write) longer and layered essays. Lately, travel and the desire to publish weekly has pushed me to table a few interesting ideas – I need more space to explore them. With a bit of research and time to gnaw on a few messy drafts, I’m excited to see what emerges.

It’s nerve-wracking to state this goal to write more intricate pieces publicly. I don’t know whether these “ambitious” essays will even be that good. I’ll leave this statement here, though, because I know it’ll raise my standards.

With this intention, expect a couple changes around here! I’ll be mixing some short pieces and poems into The Spoonful. I’m doing this for two reasons:

• I want to share more of my poetry, and The Spoonful is a space that can embrace them.

• I’ll have plenty to publish on the weeks where I’m working on a longer form essay or an intense technical project.

As the season evolves, let me know if the new style resonates with you or not!

A Note of Gratitude

I feel profoundly grateful for such a beautiful 2023, and for 2024 ahead. If you’ve been reading along at all, I appreciate you.

See you next week for Season 6!

Snap of the Week

In 2023, I made some of the deepest commitments and investments of my life.

I couldn’t have predicted this year’s happenings in my wildest dreams. Ironically, the year’s unexpected directions and oscillating emotions makes it feel like the realest, most alive year I’ve lived yet. I pray that most of the years to come feel the same.

It’s impossible to tell what the events and decisions of this year really mean – the resonances are going to be felt for a long time. I’ll be living and processing them for a while. All I know is that this time has been significant. It’s been hard, easy, loving, and expansive. I cannot be more grateful.

Writing

This year, I committed to writing in a big way. Specifically, this space on Substack has welcomed the flood of my words. Writing has always felt like a sacred vehicle of expression. But this year, I’ve proven to myself that writing is both an exercise in becoming who I want to be and a craft I can take seriously.

Taking Write of Passage in April was the catalyst that took this commitment to another level. It transformed dormant desire into action and a publishing cadence. The course gave my inner-creative permission to take the wheel. It helped me discover incredible people (and new friends) who are on similar journeys.

If you’ve been following my journey (or read even one of my essays), I’m honored that you’d spend a few moments with my words.

In 2024, The Spoonful isn’t going anywhere. In fact, it’ll be evolving in some interesting ways. More on that in the Season 5 Recap coming next week.

Love

Marriage is a surreal experience. Practically, it’s felt like Jackie and I have been married for a while (our spiritual marriage, the nikkah, happened over a year ago). So nothing felt tangibly different in our relationship after the wedding. But being able to dance, sing, cry, and laugh with our friends and family was one of the happiest events of my life. It still doesn’t feel like it actually happened.

I could go on, but I’ll hold off on riffing about love… for now.

Language

This year has been one where I’ve found solace and inspiration in the restless pages of books, and found energy and intellect in the pixels of software.

I experienced moments of deep love for the skill of reading and the magic of building for our interconnected machines.

Learning Chinese has been a fun challenge. I dug into history books, pondered poems, and adventured into fantasy novels full of captivating language.

I built with Ruby, dabbled with JavaScript, and recognized when code feels expressive (or not).

I explored multiple ways to capture my thoughts, and built my own thinking nook.

I realized that translations are approximations, and found greater appreciation in the natural sounds of a language – whether I can understand it or not.

Sabbatical

I bet on myself this year by quitting my job and wandering into the unknown. Asia was calling both Jackie and I, and we knew we wanted to spend some extended time here. A large part of our quest is to find ourselves, ask questions, and lean into our gifts as we head into a new chapter.

The sabbatical was the most surprising thing that happened this year. In December 2022, it was merely a wish, but I had no expectation of it materializing in 2023.

I’m still calling the mode I’m in “sabbatical,” although the aspect of sabbatical being a “break from work” feels like it could be changing.

Writers who set off on their own quests helped to inspire the jump and sustain its trajectory. Their words supplied important questions and perspectives for navigating the roads ahead. I’m lucky to have met some of them in person, on zoom, through tweets, and in comments.

If any of you end up reading this, know that your words have influenced me, and particularly the journey I’m on now. Thank you!

🙏🏽 , David Perell, , , Derek Sivers, , , , , , , ,

2024 - a year of bold experimentation

Beyond 2023, I’ve reflected a bit on the arc of my journey in the past few years.

2019 - learned to be an effective employee, glad to be part of the workforce
2020 - pandemic, found love, leaned into building software
2021 - started programming professionally, moved from Boston to Austin
2022 - built and crafted software
2023 - wrote, got married, started sabbatical, moved out of Austin

2023 laid fresh ground needed to build a life from scratch. As I sit and write this, I’m grateful, motivated, and energized.

2024’s beginning will be full of travel. I’ll keep drinking from the firehose of experiences, untangling and recording as I go.

As the pace slows and we prioritize stillness and focus, there are a few themes that might emerge:

• Publishing poetry (more about that next week)

• Continuing to build with technology, and digging into data, programming, and protocols

• Cultivating of spiritual knowledge and habits

• Writing regularly to expand my thinking and find my people

• Documenting my way to a sustainable stream of income

Growing up as a reader, dreamer, and with a name that means “traveler,” I see life as a grand journey. The daypack’s ready for the hike ahead.

Have you written a year in review? I want to read it! Hit reply and let that link fly, or better yet, add it to the comments below!

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