Istiak
Bio
Writer of the dark and the disturbing. I craft horror, crime, and psychological tales that linger long after the last line. Enter if you dare.
Stories (6)
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A Star Rises in the Concrete Jungle
New York City never sleeps. Every day, millions of people chase their dreams amid its chaos, neon lights, and insatiable ambition. Some sprint in suits, others wait tables, mop floors, or drive Ubers through midnight traffic. Among them was Ayan Rashid — a quiet, brown-skinned boy with deep eyes and deeper hunger. He was seven years old when he moved to the city, clutching his father's hand tightly. The bright skyline dazzled him at first, but it didn’t take long to realize — in this land of opportunity, opportunity doesn’t come free. Chapter One: The Accent and the Alienation He was known as "the curry kid" at school, the one with the "odd accent" and "strange food." Kids mocked his lunchbox, giggled when he mispronounced words, and whispered “go back to your country” under their breath. Ayan didn’t cry. He listened. He was taken in. And then, slowly, he transformed that pain into purpose. Every day, he sat alone in the library while others played. His mother, working long hours at a nail salon, left him a wrinkled dollar under his pillow for lunch. He rarely used it. Hunger became his companion — not just for food, but for dignity. He was taught early: "Carve your own space if no one gives you any." Chapter Two: High School — Between Survival and Scholarship By the time Ayan reached high school, he had conquered English, but was still wrestling with poverty. His father delivered food; Ayan worked part-time at a Chinatown convenience store after school and cleaned shelves in the campus library. Weekends were spent working hard rather than playing video games or sports. He wasn’t the loudest. He wasn't the most cool guy. But he was always the sharpest in the room. One teacher once told him, “Your resilience is your superpower.” Like a prayer, he remembered those words. Chapter Three: College — Breaking Down, Rising Again Ayan obtained a MIT scholarship through unrelenting effort. There, reality hit again. His roommate came from Silicon Valley, had three Apple devices, a Tesla, and a startup idea already funded. Ayan arrived with a secondhand laptop and two changes of clothes. Then came the night someone stole his laptop. In three days, the final project is due. No money to replace it. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep as he sat in the cold computer lab of the dorm, sipping the remaining cafeteria coffee. When a classmate said, “Why don’t you just take a break?” he smiled and replied, “Because my break... would break me.” He didn’t stop. Fourth Chapter: One Idea, One Success In his final year, Ayan developed an app — an interactive language and culture-learning game for immigrant kids like him. Simple. Honest. Powerful. He knew the pain of being voiceless; he wanted others to have one. That app won “Best Social Impact Innovation” in a national startup competition. The pitch brought investors to tears. He secured $1.2 million in seed funding within a month. He cried that night. Not out of pride but rather to let go. because in that one moment, years of shame were swallowed, meals were skipped, insults were ignored, and sleepless nights were endured. Today, Who Is Ayan? Today, Ayan Rashid is the CEO of an EdTech company impacting children in over 26 countries. His TED Talk, titled "Born on the Edge, Built for the Center," has received a lot of attention. However, the way he tells his story remains the same: > "The funding wasn't what won me the first time. It was believing in myself long before anyone else did.”
By Istiak 8 months ago in Motivation
Who rewired light
"In a dark alley of Lisbon, beneath a flickering streetlamp, a girl once repaired the light using a spoon… and a stolen dream." That was the first time Eliza Dantas got arrested. She was 16 years old. However, it was not for protest, theft, or vandalism. She was arrested for doing something no one believed she could do— repairing something --- Eliza was born in a small village in Brazil but grew up in the forgotten margins of Lisbon—beneath the towering bridges of Alcântara—where ship horns, jazz music, and ambulance sirens sang in strange harmony. Her mother worked late nights cleaning offices. Her father? Just a name whispered once and never again. They lived in a one-room tin-roofed shed. When it rained, the roof sang louder than the storms. --- While most kids played with dolls or dreamed of new clothes, Eliza was busy digging through garbage to find broken radios, torn wires, and flickering bulbs. She saw potential where others saw trash. But when she turned twelve, the world tilted. Her mother became ill with persistent fatigue and was unable to work. The fridge emptied. The power got cut every few weeks. School became a luxury they couldn’t afford. However, Eliza did not give up. --- She started going to the dump yard behind the university instead of going to class, where engineering students threw away old projectors, batteries, laptops, and circuit boards. She would bring a bag full of parts home and read ripped books by candlelight. No internet, no teacher—just her stubborn will and the hum of old machines. She built her first device, a scrap solar charger, when she was thirteen. At fourteen, an alarm that used flashing light instead of sound—so her mother, who was going deaf, could wake up safely. At fifteen, she created a wind-powered lantern that lit up their home during blackouts. --- They still didn’t have electricity. But Eliza had something more powerful than power itself—belief. --- The streetlamp in their alley went out one winter night. It stayed broken for days. Locals grumbled, but no one fixed it. Eliza was unable to bear the darkness. So one evening, with a spoon, copper wire, and a self-built circuit board, she climbed the old pole and rewired the lamp. Sparks flew. Minutes passed. And suddenly—there was light. Doors opened. Neighbors peered out. "Who is this girl?" someone asked. Moments later, the police arrived. Someone had called them—assuming she was stealing. Eliza was taken away. --- But destiny has strange timing. A local journalist, who happened to live nearby, saw what had happened. He took a photo of the girl standing under the newly lit lamp, her face tired but radiant. Next morning, the headline on the city’s biggest newspaper read: "The Girl Who Rewired Light." --- Her life changed a week later. A German tech company saw the article and contacted her. They didn’t see a criminal. They saw a mind that refused to stay in the dark. She received a scholarship from them. Sent her to London to study renewable energy and micro-electronics. And the rest? It wasn’t magic. It was hard work. Dark nights. Endless failures. But Eliza never stopped learning. --- Today, five years later, Eliza Dantas is no longer just a girl from the alley. She’s the founder of Nova Spark, a startup providing solar-lighting solutions to underdeveloped villages across Africa and Southeast Asia. She’s trained over 200 young women in low-income communities to build their own sustainable energy devices. When asked about her journey, she doesn’t boast. She simply says, “I didn’t steal light. I just reclaimed the dream no one gave me.”
By Istiak 8 months ago in Motivation
