Family | Mahdi Ahmed

Posts from the ‘Family’ category

2024: TRIUMPHS, TWISTS AND TALES

If 2024 were a screenplay, it would be a genre-defying blockbuster—a mix of heartfelt drama, laugh-out-loud comedy, and plot twists worthy of Tarantino himself. It had highs, lows, and moments so surreal they felt scripted. And let’s not forget the standout cast of characters who made it unforgettable.

First up, my family—my homegrown, award-winning ensemble cast. My wife, the muse of all muses and queen of feedback (and my heart), hit a milestone birthday this year. I won’t reveal her age—lest I end up sleeping on the balcony with her bougainvilleas. We also celebrated 20 years of marriage—two decades of travel, love, and spirited debates over soft-shell versus cut crab. (Pro tip: always double-check the shopping list.) She’s the mastermind behind her bougainvillea-parenting initiative, tolerates my hair experiments with Batana oil (still no miracles), and joins me in face-mask selfie sessions.

Then there’s Kokko, our 13-year-old whirlwind of energy. Alhamdulillahi, this kid had an incredible year! He juggled school, basketball, and soccer like a pro while I balanced ferry rides, script deadlines, and debated whether to charge him for taxi services. Watching him clatter away on Instagram with my phone during commutes has become a quiet joy—a moment of calm amidst the chaos. And when he solves the crossword faster than I can, I wonder if he’s auditioning to be the lead in my life’s next chapter. Fist bump!

The real showstopper? Kokko brought home not one but two golds this year. His team clinched the Plate Championship in the International Junior Soccer Tournament U14 held in KL, Malaysia, and his school triumphed in the U13 Inter-School Basketball Tournament. Watching him play felt like the climax of a sports movie—sweat, grit, victory, and me in the stands, trying not to ugly cry.

Professionally, 2024 was a whirlwind. Kamanaa, my latest blockbuster, proved that a well-told story can captivate audiences. Behind the scenes, a difference in perspectives over the worth of “words on screen” served as a quiet reminder of the nuances in creative partnerships. Lessons learned, dignity preserved, and the audience’s cheers were far louder than any quiet undervaluation.

And then came Roboman: The Movie—my personal redemption arc. A clean, family-friendly flick, it proved I could leave behind my infamous double entendres and still deliver a hit. Watching it with Kokko and seeing him predict the ending before the climax? Pure gold—as a writer and a dad.

Another standout moment of 2024 was winning Best Screenplay for the MNU drama Manaal at the NCA Officer Teledrama Competition. It was humbling to see my work recognized after a long hiatus. Manaal, a story about familial bonding and women’s empowerment, explored themes close to my heart. The award was a reminder that storytelling, when done with sincerity, resonates deeply—and moments like this make the countless late nights at the keyboard worth it.

Creatively, I dove into a new story in late December, carrying me into the New Year with fresh energy and ambition. This project feels raw, emotional, and layered, pushing me to explore uncharted storytelling territory. Outlining will be both challenging and cathartic, and I’m hoping this script sets the tone for a year of creativity and growth in 2025.

2024 wasn’t just about writing stories; it was about living them. From Kokko’s victories to celebrating two decades of marriage, this year reminded me that life’s best plots aren’t planned—they’re the unexpected twists that shape us.

Oh, and a special shoutout to February 2024—the month my jaw got rearranged. Yes, ouch—it still hurts. Life, as always, leaves its marks in the most unexpected ways.

As the curtain falls on 2024, I’m reminded that life, like a good script, thrives on twists, growth, and moments of brilliance—planned or otherwise. If 2024 taught me anything, it’s that the best stories are written not just with ink, but with courage, resilience, and a sprinkle of chaos.

So here’s to 2025: a fresh page, a new act, and countless opportunities to turn life’s plot twists into masterpieces. And remember, if life hands you a messy first draft, don’t be afraid to rewrite—or stretch a little, especially if screenwriting has you flirting with tennis elbow.

Happy New Year, everyone!

THE DAY THE WAVES CAME

Five days into our marriage, we found ourselves in the vibrant chaos of Patong, Phuket. It was supposed to be the beginning of forever—a honeymoon of exploration, indulgence, and laughter. We stayed at the Patong Resort, soaking in the local flavors, sightseeing and marveling at the flamboyant performances of Simon Cabaret. Life, then, seemed generous, as if offering us its best. But just as quickly, it reminded us of its unpredictability.

It was Boxing Day, the final morning of our stay. The plan was simple: leave Phuket for Bangkok at midday, then return home with memories of sunsets, James Bond Island, spicy curries, and carefree adventures. My wife, with her characteristic determination, insisted we take one last stroll along Beach Road. I hesitated, preferring the comfort of the hotel lobby, but her persistence was unyielding. That decision, trivial at the time, would come to define the rest of our lives.

The morning felt strangely off. The usual bustle of tourists was absent, replaced by an eerie silence that hung heavily in the humid air. The sea, normally alive with activity, seemed unnaturally still. My wife, for reasons she couldn’t explain, carried our passports, tickets, and cash in her handbag—a break from our routine of locking them safely away. Looking back, it felt like she knew something I didn’t.

We wandered aimlessly along the tarred road, the beach stretching out beside us, gradually moving further away from the safety of our hotel. She stopped at a small bikini shop to browse, a moment so mundane it seemed destined to fade into obscurity. Then, out of nowhere, a young girl burst into the shop, her voice trembling with panic. Her words were in Thai, but her fear was universal. The shopkeeper dropped everything and ran outside. Confused, we followed.

The world outside had unraveled. Shouts pierced the air, mingling with the distant roar of something vast and unrelenting. Through the palm trees, I caught a glimpse of boats surging inland, tossed by an invisible hand. My instincts screamed to get closer, to see the source of the commotion—a foolhardy Maldivian trait to rush toward danger rather than away. But my wife, her instincts honed by years of UN training, gripped my hand with iron resolve. “Run,” she said, her voice cutting through my haze of curiosity.

We ran. Blindly. Desperately. The air buzzed with chaos—children crying, car horns blaring, the frantic shouts of strangers. A single word rose above it all: “Waves!” The realization struck like a physical blow. This wasn’t an explosion or a riot; it was the ocean, reclaiming its dominion.

The road to higher ground felt endless. Each step was a struggle as my lungs burned and my legs faltered, but my wife’s hand never let go. A pickup truck, loaded with locals and tourists, screeched to a halt beside us. The driver gestured frantically, and we scrambled aboard, clutching at the metal sides as it sped toward the hills. The truck reeked of fish, a grim reminder of the sea from which we were fleeing.

When the road ended, we climbed a steep path leading up the hill, driven by the relentless tide of fear surging behind us. On the hill, we joined a crowd of silent, hollow-eyed survivors. The horizon, once a line of beauty, was now a jagged edge of terror. News trickled in: the tsunami had devastated coastlines across the Indian Ocean, even reaching the fragile islands of the Maldives. The thought of our flat homeland swallowed by the sea was unbearable. We prayed—desperate, faltering prayers to Allah for mercy, for survival, for our families, for forgiveness.

That night, we huddled under borrowed blankets on the veranda of a local’s home. The cries of the injured and bereaved punctuated the darkness. Sleep was a distant luxury. Instead, we clung to each other, whispering prayers into the abyss, each one a lifeline to a merciful Creator.

At dawn, we ventured cautiously back to our hotel. The landscape was unrecognizable. Boats were lodged inside buildings, cars upended like children’s toys, and debris blanketed everything in sight. The once-bustling streets were now graveyards of shattered lives and dreams. We picked our way through the destruction, our shoes caked with mud and grime, the weight of survival pressing heavily on our hearts.

The hotel lobby, once a haven of comfort, was now a whirlwind of panic. Guests frantically scrambled to leave, their faces reflecting the same mix of terror and disbelief etched on our own. After an hour of walking along the main street, amidst a throng of fleeing tourists, we managed to hail a tuk-tuk. Miraculously, the airport was operational, and against all odds, we were able to check in. Hours later, we landed in Bangkok, greeted not by the relief we had hoped for, but by the sobering reality of the nightmare we had narrowly escaped.

It was only when we turned on the television that the full scale of the devastation unfolded. The death toll climbed relentlessly, each number a soul lost. Images of destruction flashed across the screen: villages erased, families torn apart, lives ended in a heartbeat. We wept—not just for the lives lost, but for the fragile line that had separated us from them.

In the twenty years since that day, the memory has never faded. The ocean, so often a representation of bounty and beauty, revealed its other face—a stark reminder of life’s fragility and Allah’s power. My wife’s instincts, the stranger’s truck, the split-second decisions—they weren’t mere coincidences. They were whispers of mercy guiding us to safety.

The scars of that day remain, engraved not only in the landscapes we left behind but also in our souls. We honor those who perished by embracing the gift of a second chance. Every day since has been a reminder to live with purpose, to love fiercely, and to never forget how close we came to the edge.

We didn’t just survive the tsunami. We were awakened by it. Life is fragile, fleeting, and immeasurably precious—a lesson we learned on the day the waves came to teach us all.

TWENTY YEARS OF US

My Dearest Wife,

Twenty years ago today, you sat beside me in that stunning orange dress, your dupatta framing a face that held a thousand emotions: nervousness, joy, excitement — and those unforgettable tears. Not because you were unsure, but because you were stepping into the unknown. Little did we know we were embarking on a journey that would be more beautiful, adventurous, and downright hilarious than anything we could have imagined.

Our story began, like all great love stories, with a comedic twist. You mistook me for my kid brother on a phone call. Fate, with its playful grin, was clearly at work, steering us toward endless chats, epic Scrabble battles, and that one unforgettable karaoke session in Relax Inn where you sang “Ordinary World” and made my world extraordinary. From that point, love wrapped itself around us like a warm blanket, leading to the day we exchanged vows, surrounded by family and friends.

Then came the plot twist — our honeymoon. What began as a dreamy escape turned into a survival thriller faster than you could say “tsunami.” You were my hero that day, pulling me to safety from the jaws of danger. Speaking of jaws, remember earlier this year when a thug almost rearranged mine? Let’s just say your inner lioness roared so loudly that I thought he’d have to relocate to another galaxy. You called up everyone in your contact list, ready to turn the world upside down to find him. Honestly, I was more terrified of you than the thug. Thankfully, the issue simmered down before you launched your full-scale operation. But to this day, I tread carefully when I bring it up — for my jaw’s sake, of course!

Over the years, life has tested us, but it has also gifted us countless moments of joy. Like when I clean the house before you get home, just to see that priceless smile that lights up your face as you walk in, visibly tired but instantly delighted. And then, there’s the royal welcome committee — Kokko and I — stationed at the door, ready to greet you like a queen. We spring into action the moment we hear you ascending the stairs. Your handbag, which feels like it’s smuggling gold bricks, is ceremoniously taken from you as if it’s the crown jewels. Sure, I may not always use my brain as efficiently as you would like (ahem), but hey, this kind of devotion takes heart — and a decent back to carry that tonnage!

Of course, nothing warms our home quite like the magic you bring to the kitchen. From your signature crab curry to chicken rice, lemon rice, kabsa, and garudhiya with all the perfect side dishes, every bite still tastes as amazing as it did the first time. Kokko, naturally, is far better than I am at helping you whip up these culinary delights. My humble contribution? Keeping the kitchen clean and washing the dishes, which earns me another one of your Cheshire Cat smiles. And let’s not forget how you tease me about a certain “rat” in the house — me, obviously — who devours any chocolate or sweet you leave in the fridge. But here’s the shocker: the Husnuheena, or the durian chocolates that you and Kokko love, have stayed intact for days now. See? Miracles happen. Though, full disclosure — I did nibble on a piece of the durian chocolate a little while ago. But let’s agree the fridge still counts as intact… mostly.

And in the midst of all these shared moments, one of our greatest joys has been watching Kokko grow — your miniature doppelgänger and our little adventurer. Watching him is like seeing you in a smaller, cheekier package. He’s got your wit, your humor, and that side-eye that makes me wonder what roast is coming my way next.

You’ve always been the star of our story, the glue that holds everything together. From nurturing your bougainvillea with the tenderness of a mother (seriously, you talk to them more than I do) to conquering every challenge with grace, you are a force of nature. You juggle work, family, and passions with a brilliance that leaves me speechless — and for a writer, that’s saying something. Your strength is infectious, your laughter a melody that fills our home, and your determination a reminder that we can overcome anything.

Speaking of writing, you’ve been my muse, my editor, and my harshest critic. I still miss those times when you’d sit on my lap, skimming my drafts and turning my okay stories into unforgettable ones with just a few tweaks. Every screenplay I write carries a piece of you in it — your humor, your honesty, and your heart.

Our adventures together were nothing short of epic. From dancing to Love Is All Around Me to escaping tsunamis, from sunset strolls in Vilimalé to hotpot dinners in Bangkok, every moment feels like a scene from our very own blockbuster. Even on days when your “H-mode” eyebrows make an appearance, or PMS turns you into my fiercest sparring partner, I wouldn’t trade a single second of it.

Today is more than a milestone. It’s a celebration of us — of the laughs, the tears, the quiet moments, and the loud ones. It’s about the life we’ve built, the memories we’ve created, and the love that keeps growing stronger every single day. It’s about you, the woman who makes every moment brighter, every challenge easier, and every day worth waking up to.

Every moment with you has been a masterpiece. I can’t wait to see what the next chapter of our story holds — because with you, every page is extraordinary.

Thank you for being my Jessica, my SV, my partner in crime, and the queen of my heart. Thank you for laughing at my jokes, even the bad ones, and for standing by me through every twist and turn. May the next twenty years be filled with love, laughter, and a lifetime of adventures.

Happy 20th Anniversary, my love.

Forever yours,

Your Hopelessly Devoted Husband

FROM DOUBLE MEANINGS TO FAMILY MAGIC – MY REDEMPTION

As a screenwriter with a reputation (okay, infamous might be more accurate) for sneaking in those double-meaning dialogues, I’ve heard more than my fair share of whispers. Some loud. Mostly about how my work flirts a little too much with cheekiness, especially for an 18+ audience. Guilty as charged!

But hey, I’ve always been about delivering something extra. If the scene called for a wink and a nudge, the dialogue was more than happy to comply. But it wasn’t gratuitous. Every smirk-inducing word had a purpose, serving the story, the characters, and—let’s be honest—keeping the audience entertained, even if it made them blush a bit.

But yesterday evening? Yesterday evening was different. Yesterday evening was a turning point. It was the premiere of Roboman: The Movie, and this time, the audience I wrote for wasn’t the 18+ crowd ready to catch every innuendo. This was for families—kids, parents, everyone looking for a wholesome ride. It was my shot at redemption, to prove that I could write something family-friendly that was just as engaging without leaning on the suggestive. And let me tell you, it felt good.

What made the evening even better? My usual premiere buddy, my wife, was there as always. She’s my muse, my most honest critic, and when it comes to feedback, let’s just say no one tells me the truth quite like she does. But this time, there was a new guest—our 13-year-old son, at his first-ever movie premiere. And not just any movie, but one I wrote. I hadn’t felt this nervous in years. Not because of the critics or the audience’s reaction, but because my toughest reviewer would be sitting right beside me, popcorn in hand, ready to whisper his thoughts in real-time.

And whisper he did.

About halfway through into the movie, my son leans over and says, “I know how this is going to end.” I glance at him, eyebrow raised, because, well, I wrote the thing. I know a twist when I see one. But I humor him and whisper back, “Oh yeah? How?”

The movie carried on, filled with dance, heartwarming moments, and plenty of Roboman heroics. The climax hit, and there it was—the big reveal. And guess what? My son nailed it. He had the ending figured out long before the final scenes played out, and you know what? I was proud. Not because the ending was predictable (okay, maybe a little predictable—it’s a family film, after all), but because he got it. He connected with the story in a way I didn’t see coming.

He absolutely loved the movie, and for me, that was the real win. Seeing him wide-eyed, and fully immersed—that’s the kind of review you can’t buy.

So yeah, yesterday evening was a reminder that I can write family-friendly. And guess what? It can be just as fun, heartfelt, and memorable as anything I’ve written for a more… mature crowd. Roboman: The Movie wasn’t just a film—it was my redemption arc. Proof that I don’t need to lean on double meanings to create a story that sticks.

And my wife? She walked out of that theater with a smile and a few tears. The emotional scenes got to her, and as we left, she turned to me and asked, “Is my makeup smeared?” That, my friends, is when you know you’ve done something right.

ROBOMAN: THE MOVIE: VISION OF KANDI

Ibrahim Wisan, popular in the filmdom as Kandi, is a name that has become synonymous with drama and visual storytelling in Dhivehi cinema. Known for his work as an old-school cinematographer, Kandi has always had a keen eye for detail and a deep understanding of the visual language of film. With Roboman: The Movie, Kandi takes his career to new heights, marking his first venture into the family film genre and adding another remarkable chapter to his already illustrious career.

Before stepping into the director’s chair, Kandi was widely recognized for his exceptional work behind the camera. As a cinematographer, he contributed to many critically acclaimed projects, known for his ability to capture the perfect shot, evoke emotion, and enhance the narrative through his visual style. His technical prowess and creative vision were evident from the start, making him a sought-after name in the industry.

However, Kandi’s talents were not limited to cinematography alone. His passion for storytelling soon led him to explore the world of direction. His first foray into directing was with a children’s short film, Pink Fairy that charmed audiences with its innocence and imagination. The short film showcased his ability to connect with younger viewers, bringing out the pure and magical essence of childhood through his lens. This marked the beginning of his journey as a director—a journey that would soon take him to new heights.

Roboman: The Movie represents a significant leap for Kandi, as it is his first feature-length film in the family genre. This project allowed him to blend his skills as a cinematographer with his directorial vision, creating a movie that is both visually stunning and emotionally resonant. Kandi’s transition from shorts to feature films showcases his versatility and willingness to explore new genres, pushing the boundaries of his craft.

With Roboman: The Movie, Kandi has ventured into the family genre, a space that requires a delicate balance of humor, emotion, and drama. The film tells the story of two young cousins, Ahu and Asee, who navigate the highs and lows of friendship, rivalry, and dreams as they compete in the Robo Junior Challenge. It’s a narrative that is both heartwarming and thought-provoking, filled with moments of joy, tension, and redemption.

What sets Roboman: The Movie apart is Kandi’s ability to bring a fresh perspective to the family film genre. His background in cinematography is evident in the film’s visual language. Each frame is carefully composed to convey the story’s emotional beats, from the vibrant and energetic dance sequences to the more intimate, character-driven moments. Kandi’s dynamic direction, coupled with fluid camerawork and stunning visual effects by Mohamed Saami, creates a cinematic experience that is both entertaining and visually captivating.

Kandi’s direction also brings out the best in his cast, particularly the newcomers, Amelia and Misha, who play Ahu and Asee. Their chemistry and performances add a layer of authenticity and relatability to the film, making the story resonate with audiences of all ages.

Roboman: The Movie marks a new chapter in Kandi’s career, highlighting his growth as a filmmaker and his ability to handle a full-length feature in a genre he had not previously explored. His dedication to creating a film that appeals to both children and adults shows his commitment to expanding the horizons of Dhivehi cinema. Kandi’s approach to directing this film is not just about entertainment; it’s about telling a story that speaks to the hearts of its viewers, encouraging them to dream, to support each other, and to confront challenges with courage.

Kandi’s journey from cinematographer to director has been marked by bold choices, a relentless pursuit of excellence, and a deep understanding of the art of filmmaking. Roboman: The Movie is not just another film on his resume—it’s a statement of his growth, his vision, and his passion for storytelling.

Roboman: The Movie is set to hit cinemas on 26th September 2024. Stay tuned for more updates and keep an eye on Kandi’s ever-evolving journey as one of the Maldives’ most promising directors.

SHADES OF FABULOUS

My Dearest Love,

Here we are again—you, another year older, a little wiser, and me, still utterly infatuated. Trying to express what you mean to me in words is always like capturing lightning in a bottle—impossible.

This year, I’ve put together a list. It’s a little ridiculous, maybe, but it’s my attempt to comprehend the shades of fabulous that make you, you. As you read through, know my love for you isn’t fleeting. It’s a steadfast commitment, etched in time, that will endure for all eternity.

1. Your Patience: You stand by me even at my worst, like during those tense moments in TTH.

2. Your Endurance: You were my shield when you fiercely defended me during my ICU recovery.

3. Your Nurturing Spirit: You care for Kokko with such love, ensuring he grows up with your values. You greet your bougainvillea plants every morning as if they were your children.

4. Your Humor: Your one-liners and quirky dances, especially when you channel your inner Kuda Mooni, always brighten my day.

5. Your Wisdom: Your insightful advice on my screenplays and life decisions proves you have a PhD in Common Sense. Whenever one of my films comes out, like the recently released “Kamanaa,” the principal cast and crew hold their breath. They await your verdict as if it were the Oscars.

6. Your Resilience: You bounce back faster than a rubber band in a slingshot—always finding your way, no matter the odds.

7. Your Creativity: Whether turning leftovers into gourmet meals or designing stunning visuals with Canva, you’re the Van Gogh of everyday life.

8. Your Compassion: Whether it’s crying over a needy child, caring for my father in his final moments, the tenderness you show towards your own parents, or feeding Tuffin, the stray cat who now trusts you and comes running for his can of tuna—your heart is an endless well of kindness.

Reflecting on these qualities, I am reminded how your unyielding strength keeps us grounded even when the world feels heavy, and your infectious laughter lightens the load effortlessly. And in moments of faltering, your unwavering love lifts me up.

9. Your Intelligence: You navigate life’s complexities with a clarity that amazes me.

10. Your Generosity: Not just in material things but in the time and warmth you give everyone around you.

11. Your Spirit: You live enthusiastically, making our most straightforward adventures feel grand.

12. Your Dedication: You are firm in your dedication to our family, Kokko, and every task you undertake.

13. Your Support: You are my anchor when I’m stressed or down, like during the lockdown.

14. Your Love: Unwavering, unconditional, and the glue that holds us together.

15. Your Leadership: You inspire with grace and determination, whether at work or within our family.

16. Your Playfulness: Even mundane tasks become fun when you’re around, like turning bed-making into a game.

17. Your Courage: From facing weekly fears like CC to pulling us to safety during the Asian Tsunami in Patong, you are a warrior.

You’ve faced every storm with courage that leaves me in awe. I remember that day in Patong when you grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the beach. Your instinct saved us, and in that moment, I realized that you are my home—my safe harbor in every storm.

18. Your Honesty: You’re brutally honest, especially about my questionable fashion choices or half-baked screenplays.

19. Your Faith: Your spiritual strength is a steady beacon in our lives.

20. Your Independence: You stand firm as your own person while still being the center of our world.

21. Your Beauty: Inside and out, you’re so stunning that even the mirror must be your biggest fan. You are always my Jessica and SV’s twin sister.

22. Your Adaptability: You always find a way to thrive no matter the situation.

23. Your Wit: Your quick humor never fails to make me smile.

24. Your Grace: You carry yourself elegantly, even in adversity.

25. Your Cooking: Every dish you prepare is seasoned with love, turning meals into feasts. Does making juice ‘petty’ with a twist count?

26. Your Sense of Style: Everything you touch—fashion, home décor—becomes more beautiful.

27. Your Innovativeness: Projects like Currycrab showcase your ability to dream big and follow through.

28. Your Love for Adventure: Every trip, every new experience with you, is a joy.

Yes, life with you is an adventure. Whether we’re wandering the streets of Bangkok, diving into new ventures, or simply holding hands on a quiet walk, you make every moment unforgettable.

29. Your Dependability: I can count on you, no matter what we face.

30. Your Forgiveness: You forgive and move forward with grace and strength. For example, when I brought home soft-shell crab instead of cut crab, you handled it like a saint who knows her husband’s limits at the seafood counter.

31. Your Warmth: Our home is filled with love because of you.

32. Your Determination: When you set your mind to something, even the universe steps aside. Whether helping your father with his business or bravely pursuing your dreams, you keep trying without fear of failure.

33. Your Sincerity: Everything you do is done with genuine care and authenticity.

34. Your Optimism: You find the silver lining in every situation.

35. Your Strategic Thinking: Your ability to plan ahead keeps us steady.

36. Your Attention to Detail: Whether planning a trip or setting up a surprise, you ensure everything is perfect.

37. Your Calm Under Pressure: In every crisis, you are the steady hand that guides us.

38. Your Empathy: Your deep understanding and care for others, especially in tough times, is unmatched.

39. Your Versatility: You seamlessly handle multiple roles and responsibilities.

40. Your Passion: For life, love, and everything that makes our world as it is.

41. Your Sense of Justice: You always stand up for what’s right.

42. Your Integrity: You never compromise on your values.

43. Your Kindness: The gentle way you treat everyone, including animals and plants.

44. Your Problem-Solving Skills: You navigate life’s challenges with grace.

45. Your Curiosity: Your constant desire to learn keeps life exciting. Whether diving into the secrets of a long and happy life with “Ikigai,” binge-watching documentaries about gut health, or following Dr. Barbara’s advice on Batana oil to “stimulate hair growth,” your mind is constantly exploring new horizons. And while I’m still waiting for that magical forest of hair to sprout on my ever-thinning scalp, I appreciate how you always keep me in the loop—mostly about things I didn’t know I needed to know, including injecting poop! Eww!

46. Your Emotional Intelligence: You understand not only your emotions but those of others, helping navigate complex situations.

47. Your Spontaneity: Your ability to break routines and surprise us with unexpected joy keeps life fresh.

48. Your Creative Chaos: You’ve mastered turning my “neat” wardrobe arrangements back into your own version of perfect chaos.

49. Your Observational Skills: You notice the little things, making those around you feel seen and heard.

50. Your Forever-ness: With you, my love, forever is just the beginning.

Words fail me as I try to capture all that you mean to me. You’re not just my wife; you’re my compass, my sanctuary, and the rhythm that steadies my heartbeat. You’ve brought more joy and warmth into my life than I ever thought possible, standing by me in moments of triumph and holding me closer in times of failure.

If I had to live this life a thousand times over, I’d choose you every single time—even if it meant enduring your fiery lectures about not sitting on the toilet seat for hours or tolerating my constant YouTube marathons. I may not always find the perfect words, but know this: I’ll spend every breath trying, every day showing, and every night dreaming of ways to make you laugh, see you smile, and keep your heart light.

Here’s to you, my incredible, beautiful wife—the woman who turned my life into the most extraordinary screenplay I could have ever written. Without you, I’m just a guy with a laptop, struggling with a terrible first draft. With you, I’ve found the only story worth telling. And yes, I’d lose at Scrabble every time just to see you smile, because your happiness is the only prize I ever want to win.

Happy Birthday, my love.

Forever yours,

Your Hopelessly Devoted Husband

ECHOES OF LOVE

My dad was a man of simplicity and discipline, shaped by over three decades of military service. That discipline wasn’t just a part of his routine; it was who he was, woven into every fiber of his being. If he had to be somewhere, like a hospital for tests or leaving for a trip at 7:00 AM, you could count on him being ready by 6:00 AM sharp, dressed and prepared, as if he were about to march into the most important mission of his life. I’ve inherited that trait, though in a more relaxed form—if I need to be somewhere by 7:00 AM, I’m ready by 6:01 AM. It’s a small nod to the way he lived his life, always a step ahead, always prepared.

He held a special place in his heart for his grandchildren, a deep, quiet love that revealed itself in small, tender gestures. I can still picture those afternoons when he would sit patiently, his fist clenched, waiting for my son, Taqi, to come home from school. The anticipation in his eyes was unmistakable, a mix of excitement and affection. The moment Taqi walked through the door, my dad would call him over, that same clenched fist now outstretched toward him. Taqi, with his curious and trusting nature, would reach out and hold that hand. And when my dad finally opened his fist, there it was—a rolled-up five Rufiya note, a small gift, but one that carried so much meaning for him.

For my dad, giving Taqi, or any of his grandchildren, that little bit of money wasn’t just about the money itself. It was his way of showing love, of feeling connected to his grandchildren in a way that words couldn’t capture. The smile that would light up his face as he handed over that small gift was priceless, a glimpse into the deep joy he found in these simple acts of kindness. And Taqi, being the generous soul that he is, would thank him for that money, never holding onto it too tightly, just as my dad would have wanted. It’s a memory I hold close, a reminder of the quiet, profound ways my dad expressed his love.

Happy birthday, dad. I miss you every day.

EMBRACING SILENT SORROW

In the quiet hours of August 5th, 2022, as dawn crept upon me, I stood in the sterile, unforgiving cold of the ER. I watched helplessly as the very essence of your life, once so robust and commanding, dwindled rapidly before my eyes. When they whisked you away to the defib room, I stood by, the door ajar, catching glimpses of your feet jolting with each shock—a sight that shattered me. Forty-five excruciating minutes passed, each one a lifetime, until the doctor emerged at 07:33 AM with words that shattered my world: you were gone. At that moment, I was frozen, every part of me screaming in disbelief as I lost all sense of reality.

Holding your hand inside the confines of the ambulance, a grim procession to the morgue felt like an eternity of torture. Your face, etched with an unnatural stillness, mocked my fervent pleas for you to wake. The minutes stretched into an endless, bleak desert, each grain of sand a fresh pang of sorrow. And then, the earth closed over you, burying a part of my soul with you.

Two years have passed, yet the wound remains as fresh as ever, the memories as raw as the day they were born. Your stories, Dad, reverberate in my mind as if you were here, narrating them once more. Tales of your youth, your pride in being the 40th to join the police force, your firsthand accounts of the pivotal moments in our nation’s history—from the unruly onslaught of Amin Didi to British negotiations for independence to the uprisings in the South. These tales, so vibrant and compelling, are etched into the core of my being. My greatest regret is not recording your experiences as grim and golden chapters of Maldivian history.

I can still vividly hear my siblings’ and neighbors’ laughter echoing through the yard as we played, all while you dutifully served in the police force. The unmistakable roar of your motorcycle would send us into a frenzy, causing us to scatter in all directions.

Even in your twilight years, hobbling with a cane, whenever the doctor gave you a clean bill of health, your face would light up with a proud blush. You’d break into a grin, showcasing your vigor with an impromptu display of bending and stretching, as if you were about to compete in the Olympics. Watching you attempt those athletic moves was both heartwarming and amusing—a bittersweet reminder of your relentless spirit, blending the vigor of your youth with the tender fragility of your age.

Your absence is an abyss that words can scarcely bridge. I ache for your presence, your wisdom, and the indomitable strength you embodied. On the previous day at the hospital, as the second septic shock struck in the X-ray room, I was there, holding you, placing you on the stretcher with trembling hands and a heart gripped by fear for your precious life. Yet, you never relinquished your faith in living. That night, in the ER, as the third shock took hold while I stood beside you, you clung to life with a tenacity that seemed both sacred and sorrowful. My very essence drained away as your courage stood as a poignant proof of the incredible spirit you possessed, even as destiny slowly pulled you away from us.

Dad, as I pour my heart out, it aches with longing and sorrow. Your memory, a heartrending reminder of the deep imprint you left on my life, is always with me. Although I failed to archive your stories, they reside within me, a silent homage to the extraordinary man you were.

With every ounce of my love and a heart filled with longing, I will persist in embracing silent sorrow.