I wasn't extraordinary. I was just an enthusiast of crafting and painting. My ability to pick up new things was good. I could understand things very quickly and brilliantly, but only the things I had an interest in, not others. I was always a shy person, not ready to talk, and my heart was always kinda racing. I used to enjoy being alone, making the stuff I imagined, wanted to, or loved to.

The biggest problem, which I now understand, was the system I was brought up in, and my parents' force for me to adjust to that system.

When I was younger, my mother used to teach me. She was a school teacher. At that time, I used to get excellent grades, the topper of my class. But as I grew up, I started living in my own world. And obviously, my mother couldn't teach me for my lifetime. My grades started dropping, not because I was an idiot, but because I used to research, study, engineer, and design new ideas.

I was in middle school when I had my first C grade in final exams. But at the same time, I topped my school in the English debate competition and the annual science exhibition, where I developed a hydraulic dam with some syringes, tubes, and thermocol. I was the best artist in my class, all the teachers were inspired, and students were amazed at my hand precision. I was an excellent observer and an awesome gamer as well.

We were not rich. Somewhere between the upper and lower middle class. We never owned a car, couldn't afford luxuries. We were just like Nobita's family, every month, budget shortage was a problem.

I got very small pocket money. Only enough to buy a lunch meal from the school cafeteria. And it wasn't even monthly, it was given to me only when I didn't have a homemade lunch box. Because my mother was a teacher, her life was hectic. Sometimes she was in a hurry, so she skipped our lunches and just gave us some money instead.

That money was my only leverage. My only asset.

I wouldn't spend it on lunch. I saved it. For months. There was a hardware shop near my school. I would go there and buy stuff for my next imaginative project, tools, parts, whatever I could afford. I bought a soldering iron at age 11. Which btw, I accidentally left burnt stains on a lot of clothes and things around the house, which my mother obviously shouted at me for. I also bought a glue gun, and tools I wanted or could afford.

The things I couldn't buy? Well, if I got a toy, say a remote-controlled car, I played with it for two days. And on the third day? it was reverse-engineered. Parts removed with precision. Design ready in my mind. Todo list on paper. Now Hamza is going to make his own remote control car.

Didn't make it? No problem. Use those parts to make something else. A cooler one.

Here's what I made in my life: a small washing machine, a hydraulic dam, an RC car, a drone that flew for exactly 30 centimeters, a room cooler and heater, a table lamp, a hand fan, a pocket heater, a clock engine, a stereo from the speakers of an old radio, and cardboard cockpit controls of an Airbus A380. And a lot of small things as well.

I was a great artist too, on my own. I used to draw, sketch, paint, and diagram. Whatever I liked, whatever I imagined. I wasn't bound by anything. Not in any race. Just my own world. My paintings were placed everywhere in my home. I won our annual art competition. A sketch I drew of the face of my school principal is still hanging in Al-Hamrah Art Gallery, Lahore.

I was the person who always topped in art and craft. But also the person who always got B's or C's or even D’s in maths, science, history, and other boring subjects.

And nobody taught me any of it. Nobody gave me anything. I saved my own pocket money, learnt and designed everything myself, and won on my own. My parents did admire me, they acknowledged that I was a genius and intellectual. But they always opposed me, forced me to stop, and even beat me when I had poor grades and poor class performance.

One time I designed a diagram of a satellite and showed it to my teacher. She was so inspired that she arranged a study tour to Arfa Software Technology Park in Lahore and the National Incubation Center for Aeronautics and Space, SUPARCO Pakistan, where she presented that design, and me. I had the best feeling at that time. I was acknowledged. My parents were looking proud. The organization took my design and added it to their collection. It was a token of appreciation.

A week later, I had a class test result. A bare D.

My father went mad. He took the stereo, the one I had built from an old broken radio, and smashed it.

My heart smashed with it.

After that, I took everything, put it in a drawer, locked it, and threw the key. Then I burnt all my paintings and certificates on the roof of my house without telling anyone. When my parents realized, they apologized. They hugged me. They motivated me.

But it was too late. I was sick of all of it. I had just started 9th class at that time. And I lost my desire to do what I love.

Then came the time when I had to select my future. Like how pitiful it is that you would be selecting your future in high school? I had to choose between biology, computer, and arts. I wanted computers, I loved computers. But my parents wanted me to become a doctor. They forced me to pursue biology. I couldn't protest, so I took it. Then I decided not to study, because I hated biology.

And then it arrived. A thing we all know very well. A monster that ruined the world.

COVID-19.

Schools closed. Lockdown. Economies destroyed. People died. Panic. Six feet distance. Quarantine. More masks. Sanitize yourself. Eat more Vitamin C. Build your immunity. Nobody had any thoughts of others.

Schools remained closed for eight consecutive months.

Then came the online study system. Classes on Zoom and Google Meet. Were those classes? No. It was a waste. But on the other hand, it gave me time and opportunity.

I joined an online study platform called Noon Academy. And there I found a teacher named Nashwa Ibtisam.

I can never forget her. She was the reason I regained my identity. She didn't teach me my books, she made my mindset. Made me a book lover. A researcher. A big thinker. A philosopher. A scientist.. Basically redeveloped what I had lost for years.

In 10th class, I read The Canon of Medicine by Avicenna. Five volumes. I swear to God I didn't understand a thing, but I was in love with the book. I watched every page. Then I started reading every single book I wanted, on biology, on astronomy, on religion. All bought with my own saved pocket money.

Then I delved into comparative religion. I was born a Muslim, in a Muslim country, in a Muslim family, with a Muslim lineage for hundreds of years. But I didn't want to be a Muslim just because of that. At 15 or 16, I stopped listening to my parents and my culture and started reasoning, studying, and logically finding God on my own, just to figure out the truth myself.

I read the Holy Bible. Didn't tell my parents. I studied Christianity, their history, and their beliefs as far as a 16-year-old could reach. Same with Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism.

I was confused. So I put the teachings of every religion in front of me and started compiling the common terms.

What I concluded was this: the Bible claims there is one God. The Torah claims there is one God. Hindu scriptures claim there is one God. Buddhist scriptures claim there is one God. The Quran screams there is one God. All religions promote peace and have set human principles.

I don't want to go deeper here. I respect every religion and don't want to cause problems for any reader. It was just a phase and a research of my life.

After that I studied Islam in depth, the hadiths, Islamic scholars, the Quran, and then reflecting that in our history and most importantly our society. And now when I reflect back, it was the most important thing I have done in my life. Because most Muslims are Muslim only because they were born in Muslim homes. They don't actually know their own religion. And non-Muslims picture them and make claims about what Islam teaches.

People can be bad. But the principles and scriptures? They cannot.

Here I am not aleging that anyone is bad, or good, or whatever happened in history nor that I want to tell you that this is the truth and this is a lie... Just some facts that I came by myself.. and this is important if you are a muslim or from any other religion, because most of the muslims are muslims because they were born in muslim homes (same for others as wll), and because of that they dont know anything about their religion, and others picture them and claim that this is this kind of religion which teaches this thing.. when I studied other religions, I didnt pictured individuals, I just studied the scriptures, the religion itself.. because again, people can be bad, but the principles and scriptures? they cannot.. all the things happened in 911, It was very very very bad, but islam doesnt teach that thing, still, the whole world called it Islamophobia.. only because some bad muslim did that doesnt mean that the religion and other innocent people are also bad!

Islam's teaching is simple, but people have made it difficult, and have carved the religion according to their desires..

it only says that there is one god (Almighty Allah), propht (PBUH) is his final Messenger, worship Allah 5 times a day, fast in the month of ramazan, if you are capable of, then offer haj once in lifetime, if you are capable then pay zakat (charity), never do shirq (claim anyone equal to god), never add/subtract anything in the religion, always be considerate of haqooq ul ibad (the people's rights), only eat halal food and never touch haram (pork, alcohol, shirqed food items items), marry by doing nikkah, never humiliate a girl, never ever treat her with harsh behaviour, always treat her with respect, marry her with promise to Allah that you would take care of her, make her happy, treat her like a queen, treat her like your first obligation, become her savior, her trust, her love, and make a lovely family with her, empower her, and treat her equally.. never to fall in haram relationship.. if you love a girl, marry her with legitimate way, but never act haram, never cross the lines set by almighty, dont even touch her in a wrong way.. she is not your property, fear Allah for the women.. give her respect and dignity, and empower her even if she is not your wife.. never even raise your voice infront of your parents, always have tolerance, respect for others, piety, wellbeing, and truthfullness in yourself.. you can never kill anyone unless he/she spreads harm to you.. then take revenge... eye for an eye, nose for the nose.. slap for the slap, not an inch more.. and in a war, only fight those who fight with you and never even touch those who are innocent or those who surender..

when you die, you would be takken accountable, for even a grain of good or bad you have done.. a man who was the best worshipper and had prayed the most but was bad with people is a no one and he will be feeling his taste by Almighty..

based on the amaal (good or bad deeds) people would be sent to hell or heaven..

After religion, I delved deeper into medical sciences. Human anatomy, physiology, psychology. I bought books on medicine and surgery. If you ask me, I can step-by-step tell you how to perform a CABG or a heart transplant. But my enthusiasm didn't capture marks, and so I wasn't able to secure admission into medical school.

And then things started to change for us.

First the aftershocks of COVID on the economy. Then my father had a heart attack.

That one year was hell. Economy, down. Father's health, down. My mother, down. My grades, down. The only bike we had was stolen. My phone was stolen. My father was in a government hospital. We should have been getting free treatment, but the doctors demanded 1.3 million PKR for the surgery. We couldn't have that money.

We spent 41 days in the general ward. Every day, one or two people die in front of us from heart attacks. And we were like, next is our turn.

We filed a complaint on the government portal. Luckily, we were heard. A minister visited the hospital and we were allowed the surgery (I have explained it in few lines but it wasnt that easy! It was the most toughest year of my life).

After the surgery, my father lost his private job as a manager. His health made him unable to work. Only my mother's minimal salary was holding the house. Education expenses for me and my siblings. Rent. Utilities. Food. Health. We were in hell.

My bad result. No view of a better tomorrow.

So I had to take a chance. Step forward. Be the man of my home. Not just become a shoulder, but take them all on my back and run to the finish line.

Medical wasn't going to bring financial stability fast. So I made the harsh decision. My whole family opposed me. But I had made my mind.

I changed my field. From medical to computer science.

Complete opposites. But my instinct was simple, learn skills, work damn hard for a year, and earn freelance. At least enough to hold the burden.

I didn't even know the C of computers. But I jumped in.

Started my degree in September 2024. Took three months just to adjust to the field. Then I pushed on the gas.

My first laptop, a ThinkPad T470p. Used. 16GB RAM, 256GB SSD, Intel Core i7, 7th generation.

I had a laptop, internet, and my mind.

I started learning web development. Frontend, then backend, then databases. I coded like a psycho. My eyes went red. My fingertips got pus pimples and they bleed. Keyboard keys broke. But I couldn't stop, because of the family.

I would say 24/7.

I still remember, after 7 months, I went to a cardiology hospital in Lahore to collect medicine of my father. I was tired, so I sat in a nearby park for a while.

And I cried.

Not from pain. Just because I had completely forgotten what nature was. What the world outside looked like. Peaceful, calm, and beautiful.

But after a few more months, the hard work started paying back.

I started Upvista Digital, my web development agency. It was hard at the start. But then my first client appeared. He was Japanese. He paid me $500 for a website.

That $500 changed my and my family's life.

It was the first time that I, at 19, earned money that was more than my parents' combined salaries. While my father was still jobless.

That money made all of us cry. We were under huge financial debt and crisis for years. And now it was like a farmer who had been praying for rain for weeks, near the death of his crops, and suddenly a black cloud appeared. Not the rain actually. But the farmer is now hopeful and motivated.

Time passed. Weeks and months. My skills improved. More clients. More exposure into tech.

Then my mind started thinking about AGI.

At 19, how can we make something that actually thinks? I studied hundreds of research articles from OpenAI, DeepMind, DeepSeek, Anthropic, wherever I could find them. Then I thought, prepared, and wrote a research article of my own.

I named it Project Cortex. Because it was a human brain's prefrontal cortex inspired architecture for the development of AGI. Basically multi-model orchestration, but at that time, when there was no mainstream multi-agent concept, it felt to me like AGI.

I self-published that 36-page article. Got 57 professor reviews on it.

Then I had to make it real. I thought about where this architecture would fit best. The first thing that came to mind was application security. AI can code well, but being a self-made software engineer, I knew it writes shitty code and leaves security loopholes behind.

So I built CortexEDR, a 7-agent orchestration environment that audits your codebase and finds vulnerabilities. The reports were mind-blowing. It was a hit.

But I live in Lahore, Pakistan. Not San Francisco.

Without money, resources, or a network, I couldn't make it a hit. I couldn't even use Stripe or PayPal, in Pakistan you don't have the same opportunities as you have in SF. I applied to YC. Rejected, no traction, no cofounder. Because there wasn't a single person in my network who knew how to write code.

I launched it seven times. It failed again and again.

Not because the satellite was bad. But because the rocket had no fuel, no launchpad, and no ignition. It is as though I am holding that rocket in my hands and throwing it with my full potential, hoping, aiming, and praying that it reaches its desired orbit.

But obviously, it won't.

Now I am preparing for launch number eight. A different shape of rocket this time.

Cortex CLI. free, open source, built for every developer who ships code and assumes someone else checked it.

I'm not going to give up. Launch is in two days.

Stay tuned… this is not the end of my story, I would be writing new chapters of my life after this section!