I remember when I was a lil nipper, going to school and my parents having to come in and speak to the teachers about my progress. They told my parents I was dyslexic, suffering ADD and to top it all off, I was not only left handed, but writing English from right to left, with all the letters backwards - in order to read my writing, they showed my parents a mirror aligned with the page... my parents were shocked.
That day I came home and living in a traditional Indian family, they didn't really have high hopes for me after that. My Grandfather though, told me I had genius locked up inside of me, but despite his encouragement, everyone else convinced me I was stupid.
So I grew up, believing that. In school, I got into fights because I got picked on, and I never backed out. I got suspended, expelled, and moved from school to school. When exams came in secondary school, I didn't even attend, I felt like a failure and didn't want confirmation of it, so I never bothered.
By this time I had beat the dyslexia and wrote English from left to right, the right way round. A mile stone. ADD though, was still a BIG problem.
After school was out, I went to college - they somehow let me in - but same story there too, I got into so many fights in college, seems everyone wanted a piece of me - my reputation had preceeded me... in the end I got expelled.
No mind, I joined another college the next year... determined to make it work this time. But again, the fights, the dramas and the expulsions.
I do not have an education. Did any of you know that?
Despite this, I ended up being an editor for global B2B publications, when I was 25... how?
How does someone who doesn't even have a GCSE in English, end up being an editor for global business magazines?
I tell you how.
One day, I found myself browsing Foyles bookstore, for hours. I was taken in by the smell of new books, there was something comforting about them... I was intrigued. Hours passed and I had no idea I was there so long when a shop assistant asked me if I needed help with anything. I told her, "I want to read a book".
She smiled at me, and asked in a patient tone, "do you know what kind of book?"
I replied "a good one"... this is how dumbed down I had become. I didn't even know how to answer her properly, she smiled but I sensed that she could tell I was no academic. She asked me what I was interested in, I said I didn't know, then she went through some genres and totally lost me, I asked her what kind of books she read, she replied that she read trashy novels for women. I asked, what kind of book does she think I would be interested in. She told me to follow her.
She gave me Dickens... Oh, Dickens, you genius... you are the one man who made words come to life for me - how can I thank you Mr Charles Dickens? HOw can I let you know that if it wasn't for the way you captured my imagination, I would never have found a love for books the way I have now.
I read Great Expectations, and felt a kindred spirit with the main character, it was emotional, the power of words were making themselves known to me, in the dead of night - where I read secretly by torchlight, in case my brother, whom I shared the room with, would find out. I was embarassed to let anyone know I was reading - it was not expected of me, and so, I didn't want to invite ridicule... I read slowly, often reading the same page over until I got into the flow of it.
I remembered Hashem, who used to read Dungeons and Dragons books in the market stall I worked in on weekends, come rain or shine - I remembered borrowing a book from him, a book which I had no patience to read, nor inclination - and contrasted that to me laying there silently under the bed covers, intrigued at the way the words came to life in Charles' prose and delivery, I was fascinated at how I had managed to somehow, break through my ADD on this one occasion, and genuinely enjoyed the experience of reading and watching as the words danced to life in my minds eyes, better than any movie adaptation of the same... and I thought to myself, "I will read more books, because these things are cool" but silently promised myself, I would let no one find out...
...by the time I hit 25, I was writing letters for friends, and family... and my grandfather was smiling at me, telling me, "I told you didn't I, young man?" I nodded, and then told him that I love to read. He was the first I told. He told me back, "words are powerful Mohsen, learn to master them, and you master the world"
At the age of 24, I got a job in a newspaper group selling advertising on the phone (telesales) I was pretty good at it, a natural, but my manager got jealous of me and sacked me without any warning - but Allah had other plans... a client from this job phoned me and asked me what I would do now? I told him "I will start my own magazine" for a joke, to get him from prying into my personal life... he offered me a job, He wanted to start a magazine and he wanted me to head it. I was blown away, and told him "I don't have any education, and know nothing about publishing" but he insisted that I had the finest way of relaying ideas in emails he had ever seen and he wanted to meet me. We met the next day, he drove down from Birmingham to see me in London. We started our magazine.
That was the start to a career which has since, evolved into a media machine today:
www.smartapps4u.co.uk
This is my own business now. I came from failure - to success, and though I don't make much money and am struggling most months to make ends meet - this is MY BUSINESS, and no one can tell me what to do or how to do it, because I built this from scratch through sheer hard work and determination.
In order to get this far, I had to learn Adobe photoshop, inDesign and illustrator, as well as Dreamweaver and how to make apps... all this was a labour of love because I had decided to follow my dreams, at my own pace - in my own time, and I cared not what people thought - because they often told me that I was going to fail.
I kept at it, I got my work published, and noticed. And felt a sense of achievement which I never thought was possible for someone like me.
Imagine my joy when I came home with that first issue of the Magazine we published, with MY NAME as the Editor in Chief, and my photo above it, and the look on my parents face when they saw this... how can I explain any of this and do it justice. They were proud of me. My mother had tears of joy in her eyes, her son had worked in secret to beat his fears and prejudice, and no one knew until I came home to show them what I was capable of and who I had become. The Editor in Chief of a Magazine.
Today I run a media agency for small to medium sized businesses and Alhamdulillah, for HIS grace and mercy on this poor sod who had nothing, not even a hope...
...what's the moral of the story?
Those who dare to dream, dare to walk towards the dream... those who are afraid to dream, live a nightmare...
...Never say "i cannot" - for Allah is the ONE WHO Guides,
Takbir : AllahuAkbar
:)
Scimi