It’s currently four a.m., and I’ve just realised I haven’t prepared an end-of-year post for this here blog of mine. This is understandable, given that I amassed four posts this year. Three were recycled essays I wrote for my university, and the last one was a short story I was hoping to adapt into a novel but haven’t gotten around to yet. Truth be told, I kind of forgot this place existed. Which is rather sad, considering it’s named after me. This brings me to the main point of this post: there isn’t one.

When I first realised it was 31st December about an hour ago, I began questioning myself. How did I let this happen? How could I forget something that used to be such a central part of my life? I started this blog in June 2020, back when Miss Rona first showed up. It saw me through those early lockdown days. Through the A-level kerfuffle. Through my gap year. Now Miss Rona is gone, and I’m still here, and this blog just ain’t blogging. But why? What happened in the last year that stopped me from writing? Ironically, the answer is university.

Looking back, it’s clear that university has dramatically impacted this blog’s output. Before starting university in September 2021, I put out an average of three to four posts per month, sometimes five or six. Since starting, I’ve only made six. That’s six posts in just over a year! Now, I could sit here and keep berating myself for letting this happen, or I could do a little self-reflection and unpack this. Alternatively, I could just close the laptop and go to sleep, but where’s the fun in that?

Let’s start from the beginning. Why did I start this blog? It’s not really an easy question to answer. Partly because there were multiple contributing factors but mainly because the largest of those factors is a little embarrassing. You see… the truth is… damn, how do I say this? I… I started this blog because I had a crush on someone. There we go. I said it. The cat is out of the bag. I repeat the cat is out of the bag.

I’m not gonna go into detail about who this person was – I say “was” because I haven’t spoken to her in nearly two years, not because she’s, you know – that’s not important. All you need to know is that your boy was down bad for a girl. She liked writing, so he started a blog to impress her. She wasn’t impressed, but your boy did find a new hobby, and ultimately that’s the real love story in all this.

I started this blog with my first post: Founding of the All-India Muslim League. Technically The British Raj and the Destruction of the Subcontinent’s Economy was my first post, but I don’t count that, seeing as it was just a recycled essay I wrote in year 12. Alas, I digress. So, I started this blog with my series Jinnah’s Pakistan: Revisiting the Pakistan Movement. The intention was clear: this was going to be a history blog and I was going to be the next greatest historian since Herodotus. At least, that was until A-levels results day.

To put it mildly, A-level results day was not a good day. To put it frankly, A-levels results day was $#*% day. So $#*% in fact, I had to take a month’s hiatus to process it. And after a lot of processing and self-reflection, I came back with my first thought piece: Limbo. It was a great success. So great it got both a single like and a single comment. Which was one more like and comment than any of my previous history posts. No. It was a great success because it revealed to me one of the greatest feelings known to man: catharsis.

And so, after Limbo, my blog began to branch out. I continued writing about history; the difference was that now my writing had a lot more character. A lot more pizzazz, if you will. Then on 25th November 2020, I discovered a new passion: storytelling. Admittedly, my first attempt at storytelling was a little confusing. I read back Shaheen today, and just like when I was writing it, I still don’t know what’s going on. But people liked it. Friends called me up, telling me they thought it was deep and meaningful and that I should write more fiction. And so, I end 2020 on a high note with A Reflection on Loneliness and How to Punch.

Going into 2021, I had the ambition of taking my blog more seriously. I aimed to write at least twice as many posts as I did in 2020. I start the year with a few book reviews and another instalment of Jinnah’s Pakistan. Then at the start of April, I begin my first real crack at fiction writing: Midnights In London, an episodic story set in 17th-century Victorian London.

By this point in my blogging career, things were going well. Posts were pretty much going out on a weekly basis. During this period, I posted some of my best work. Notable mentions include The Fourth Battle of Panipat, Iron Brothers: Assessing the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor and Storytime with Aqil: The Three Fights. Then in late September, I started university, and things went downhill.

Uni life got the better of me. The first semester of university was an absolute rollercoaster. It had everything: action, drama, intrigue. So much happened there wouldn’t be enough gigabytes on my computer to record it. Alas, I will have to save those stories for another day. All you need to know is that, between all the craziness and university assignments, I had no time to write blog posts. And the one post I did write, Mass Surveillance and the Erosion of Our Civil Liberties: Why You Should Be Concerned, was part of a university assignment. It was safe to say my streak had been broken, and I finished 2021 with what I’d honestly call a lazy cop-out post, The Aqil Ghani Media Awards 2021.

I went into 2022 with less enthusiasm and time for my blog. In many ways, this place became a landfill for me to dump my university essays into. After all, university essays were the only things I had time to write. I finish the academic year in June and begin my summer holidays. During the summer, I wrote another story called Wishes which served as a proof of concept for a novel I intended to write. I still intend to write a novel, just one based on a different idea. And now here we are, 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning, the last day of 2022.

As far as my writing goes, it’s fair to say 2022 wasn’t a good year for Aqil Ghani (the blog). In fact, one could put it frankly and say 2022 was a $#*% year for Aqil Ghani (the blog). But was it a $#*% year for Aqil Ghani (the person)?

To be fair to myself, I did achieve some personal milestones this year. For one, I’ve finally started eating and going gym consistently. I’ve gained 3kg in the past two months, and I’m the strongest and fittest I’ve ever been in my entire life. As far as acting is concerned, 2022 has been a great success. I filmed my first paid role as one of the leads in an anthology film, and I’m currently booked in for another two projects I’m gonna film in the new year.

Overall, I’d say 2022 was a middle year. A year of metamorphosis. In some regards, I’ve stagnated. In others, I’ve excelled. But regardless, I have learned. A lot. And that’s what life is all about.

So, what am I going to do differently next year? I’d love to promise to start posting consistently again, but, truth be told, I don’t know if I can stick to that promise. I’m already swamped with uni work as it is, with an exam to prepare for and two essays to write. They may soon end up on this blog, depending on how good they are. However, I will promise myself this: to take at least a little time out to write, not for university, not for the blog, but for myself.

I made this blog to impress the girl I liked and discovered a passion I didn’t know I had. I started with a story of the past and ended with a story of my imagination. And as the story of my own life unfolded, this blog took a backseat. Whether this blog continues to wither or makes a resurgence remains to be seen. Regardless, though it may be little, I’m content with what I’ve achieved here.

That’s enough corniness from me this year, folks. May y’all have a blessed 2023 and achieve everything you set out to achieve. Keep learning. Keep growing. Keep smiling. And if I see, I see you.

Peace be with you.

Two weeks ago, I received my Autumn physics exam results. I am happy to report that your boy bagged an A, thus concluding the whole A-level predicament. Alhamdulillah!

The stress plaguing me these last few months has finally been lifted from my shoulders, leaving room for the next load of stress that life will throw at me. And so, in this moment of respite, I can sit back, relax, and reflect for a minute.

This past year has been a rough one. I’m sure you’re more than acquainted with why that’s the case. The way I see it, my life has been on pause since March. Unlike most of my peers, I did not start university this year, so I’ve virtually been stuck at home these last nine months.

During this time, I’ve learned things about myself, as I’m sure you have as well. The key thing I have learned – the subject of this post – is that I’m not able to cope with loneliness as well as I used to. To understand why, we must delve into my past. That’s right. It’s time for my ORIGIN STORY!

In primary school, I was very much a loner. I struggled to make friends because my interests differed greatly from my peers. I wasn’t into sports. To this day, I’ve yet to sit down and watch an entire ninety-minute football match. Considering I’ve lived my whole life in England, this is borderline blasphemy. The most I do is watch cricket when it’s India vs Pakistan, but that’s more for the culture than anything else.

Neither did I have Cartoon Network or Disney XD, like the other kids, so I couldn’t relate to any of the shows they talked about. Even during playtime, I used to prefer staying in class playing with Lego, drawing, or reading to outside playing with the other kids. I was a bit of an oddball.

This isn’t to say I was sad; I was actually pleased to spend my playtimes alone because, as far as I was concerned, playing with Lego was way more fun than playing football. Nonetheless, the result was that I was very socially awkward and only had a tiny group of friends.

When I started secondary, I lacked the social skills that my peers had. My few friends from primary had started at different schools. So, I was alone without the skills needed to make new friends. This meant I was a social outcast for much of my secondary school career. It also didn’t help that my school was set up in a very odd way.

My school had four houses (we called them ‘Ties’ because we were differentiated by our ties’ colour). I was in Green Tie. Coincidently, I was also in Green House in primary school and Wilberforce House (also denoted by the colour green) in Sixth Form. I guess the magical sorting hat known as fate decided that I was a Slytherin at heart despite my inclination to the unseriousness of Hufflepuff.

These four houses were then divided into two bands: X and Y. In the X band, you had Red and Blue Tie students; in the Y band, you had Green and Yellow Tie students. For the first two years of school, our classes were determined by our band. This meant that you didn’t even get a real chance to socialise with half your year group, thus limiting your potential pool of candidates for friendship. From year 9 to 11, the bands were finally mixed for our optional classes, but by that time, secondary school’s social circles were set in stone, and I was left adrift.

I did make one friend in year 7, though. He was an immigrant from Bangladesh – something I was surprised to find out given he spoke with an almost Canadian-like accent – and had just started school in the UK. We used to spend our break times playing Pokémon cards or discussing video games. Unfortunately, this friendship wouldn’t last long due to a very stupid yet humorous sequence of events.

This friend and I would often be singled out and picked on due to our different interests. It also didn’t help that we were both brown and Muslim. The other kids used to call him ‘Big Aqil’ because he was taller than me at the time. One day, we were leaving through the school gates when another student started verbally abusing us. My friend decided he had enough and began swinging for the bully.

I would now like to take a pause in this story to deliver a PSA on punching techniques. When you deliver a punch, you must follow a particular technique to maximise damage done to your opponent while minimising damage dealt to you.

The first and arguably most important step is to make a fist. Many people surprisingly get this wrong and end up injuring themselves, so listen up. To make a fist, you must first open your hand, stretching out your fingers and thumb. Then curl in your fingers, at which point you’ll be left with a thumbs up. Your thumb is then secured onto the outside of the middle phalanges of your fingers.

Many people connect their thumb to the proximal phalanx of their index finger or, even worse, underneath their fingers. This will inevitably lead to a broken thumb when you land a punch, so please don’t do it. Your wrist must be kept straight at all times. This ensures the fist is reinforced, allowing you to put more power behind your punch.

The second step is to get into your resting stance. Different martial arts have slightly different stance variations for different reasons. Muay Thai fighters like to keep their arms high with their elbows flared out and shoulders square-on to allow for easier elbow strikes and kicks. But for the purpose of this post, we will be looking at the traditional boxing stance.

Tuck in your chin by slightly lowering your head and placing your fists in front – not too far or too close. Your elbows should be kept close to your sides to defend your ribcage. Your legs should be kept apart with your less dominant side at the front and a slight bend in the knees. Your shoulders should face your opponent side-on with your less dominant side in front.

For example, if you are right-handed, your left leg should be in front with your left shoulder angled towards your opponent. To keep things simple, we’ll assume everyone is right-handed – sorry, left-handed folks. Whenever you’re not throwing a punch, you should be in this position. All punches start and end here.

Now, we move on to the actual punches. There are different types of punches, such as hooks and uppercuts, but we will just look at a basic jab and cross to keep this post short.

To throw a jab, simply rotate your waist clockwise. As you do this, extend your left arm rapidly outwards, leading with your fist in a straight line towards your opponent. Your jab should be shoulder height, so don’t aim too high or too low; aim straight ahead. Of course, if your opponent is a different height, adjust accordingly. Once your arm is fully extended, it should immediately be returned to the rest position.

Similarly, to throw a cross, rotate your waist anti-clockwise, extending your right arm. As before, do not aim too high or too low. However, this time, you should also pivot your back foot to get more power behind the punch. Once again, the arm should immediately be brought back to the rest position once fully extended.

The aim is to strike your opponent hard and fast with your knuckles. Think of yourself as an oscillating system. Equilibrium is the rest position, with the peaks and troughs being your jabs and crosses. At no point should one of your arms be left sticking out.

Before we get back to the story, I’d like to cover a few things to keep an eye out for. If you’re unsure whether your opponent is in range, just throw a jab. Your jab is your measuring tool, so use it wisely. If you find you are out of range, then simply move closer to your opponent. Don’t overextend your punches lest you be punished with a volley of punches throwing you off balance. Your legs should provide a stable base at all times. As a general rule, Move your legs before you move your arms. Fleet footwork is key.

It is imperative that you keep your knuckles in line with your forearm and wrist. This is because you will be hitting your opponent with them, so it’s a good idea to keep them reinforced; otherwise, you risk injuring yourself. Lastly, do not flare out your elbows when you punch. Remember, the punch is led by the fist, so you do not need to raise your elbows out to the side before extending your arm. The punch should be a fluid, straight-line motion.

When my friend swung for the bully, he ignored all of the rules mentioned above. Instead, he decided he’d like to charge up his punch by swinging his arm all the way behind him before going for the bully. Unfortunately, I was standing behind him. It didn’t end well.

A few moments later, I woke up in the medical room. My friend was standing by the door; the colour drained from his face. I was more embarrassed than I was angry at him. Within a few days, word had travelled around the school, and kids began taunting me, but the worst part of it all was that my father was picking me up that day. He had brought me some wings and chips from my favourite chicken shop, and they were cold by the time I left the medical room. After this, I stopped talking to my friend; the embarrassment was too much. He was also in Red Tie, so I didn’t have any classes with him until year 9, making it easier to avoid him.

For the next few years, I drifted between different social groups, never really part of any of them. In almost all of them, I was ridiculed for my differences in the name of banter. Kids would talk about me behind my back, and I was rarely invited to hang out outside school. More often than not, people would tear me down than build me up. At the time, I didn’t think this was a problem because I had just assumed that this was what fitting in was supposed to be like. This, of course, destroyed a lot of my already dwindling self-confidence.

On the flip side, when you don’t have much going for you socially, you find it much easier to spend time alone. I would spend much of my free time playing video games to the point that I was clocking 30 hours a week on Team Fortress 2. Other than video games, I would also read a lot of comic books. Loneliness wasn’t a significant concern for me because I had resigned myself to the fact that kids were just naturally unkind. The time I spent alone was way more fun and emotionally fulfilling than the time I spent with others.

Luckily, by the end of year 11, I reconnected with my friend from year 7. Things were awkward at first, but seeing as we were going to be starting at the same Sixth Form, it seemed appropriate that we just forget about the past. Through him, I met two other students from X band who were also going to the same Sixth Form.

On the whole, my secondary school experience was pretty bad socially. I would often pretend to be ill to avoid going to school. However, academically, it was going very well. I would usually rank amongst the top of my class and was the first student to sit the GCSE further maths exam. When you don’t have friends, you have much more time to focus on your studies. And while I did meet some decent people in secondary school, I wouldn’t call them friends per se, save for the three that joined me in Sixth Form.

It wasn’t until I took part in the National Citizen Service (NCS) that I fully came out of my shell. For those unaware, NCS is a four-week program where teenagers get together and participate in activities before undertaking a project for their local community. It’s not mandatory but is highly encouraged by schools. Nearly everyone I’ve talked to said their wave was quote “dead” – meaning dull – so my wave (Bromley Wave 8) was certainly an anomaly.

For the first time, I was surrounded by genuinely kind people. Before this, I was often greeted with animosity by my peers. Instead, at NCS, people celebrated me and my differences. People built me up instead of tearing me down, giving me a much-needed confidence boost. I will forever remain grateful to those I met at NCS for giving me the chance to socially thrive and come out of my shell. They changed me from a bitter introvert sceptical of others to an enthusiastic extrovert who actively goes out of his way to meet new people.

With my newfound confidence, I could socially thrive in Sixth Form. I made a lot of friends from different walks of life. I participated in social events, something I would’ve never dreamed of at secondary. I also grew very close with my friend, who knocked me out in year 7, to the point I consider him my brother. The truth is, I feel as though I found my community in Sixth Form. And by finding my community, I ultimately found myself.

Unfortunately, too much of a good thing can be harmful. I had essentially become dependent on social interaction with others. This meant that when lockdown started, I had a lot of adjusting to do. Without my community, I struggled a lot, bringing us back to this post’s whole point. I can’t cope with loneliness as well as I used to.

When the lockdowns first started, I found myself with a lot of free time but hardly anything to do. Physically cut off from my peers, I began to miss the little things. The ramblings we used to have on our train journeys. The daily shenanigans we got up to in Room 10 – our weekly games of Cards Against Humanity. The philosophical discussions I used to have in the canteen during my free periods. The chicken and beef burgers I used to get from Wrap City located just outside Victoria Station (Highly recommend). All of this was brought to an abrupt end on the 20^th March 2020.

I needed things to occupy myself with at home, so I took up reading more seriously – something I’d begun to neglect. I even revisited comics again, which I had stopped reading in year 12. My video game consumption ultimately skyrocketed yet again. Anything to keep me occupied lest my mind wanders to unpleasant places. I took up writing, culminating in the establishment of this very blog. That being said, I still missed my friends greatly and yearned for social interaction. There is only so much time one can spend cooped up with family before going insane.

This feeling of loneliness was new to me. As mentioned before, prior to NCS, I had learned to enjoy the time I spent alone. In many ways, I was my own best friend. Since NCS, if I ever felt lonely, I could just meet up with friends. With the new lockdown restrictions, this was impossible. Lockdown was the introvert’s paradise, yet I was no longer an introvert.

Fortunately, thanks to the wonders of technology, I could still communicate with my friends via social media. Had social media not existed, I’m sure I would have gone insane. Then again, one could make the convincing argument it is social media itself that is driving us insane. Alas, that’s a topic for another day.

With one of my friendship groups, which we dub “Brown Society” due to most members being of South Asian descent, we began hosting weekly intellectual discussions. Our very own Oxford Union, you could say. This eventually evolved into weekly games of Among Us. Unfortunately, these discussions and gaming sessions only lasted a few months as everyone was slowly preparing for their new lives at university – something I’ve yet to experience.

As sad as it may be, I need to come to terms with the fact people are moving on with their lives, and I should, too. The friendships meant to last will do so, and those that aren’t won’t. The sense of community I felt at Sixth Form is gone, and from what I’ve heard from my peers at university, it probably won’t ever come back. I’ll try my best to hold onto the friendships I’ve forged these past three years. Still, I must also remember that people outgrow each other and move onto greater things – ‘tis natural.

And so I venture into 2021 with the acceptance that, for better or for worse, things will never be the same again. Happy New Year to all those reading; I hope you all fulfil your ambitions over the following year. For myself, I hope to come to terms with this new feeling of loneliness. Perhaps maybe I’ll reach an equilibrium between my current extroverted and past introverted selves.

That’s it from me this year. See y’all in 2021!

Peace be with you.