“Life would be so much easier if I were a goldfish.” A quote I posted on Instagram one night, not fully understanding why it mattered so much. How peaceful it would be to forget after just five months— To swim in my Ras Tanura beach, then across oceans— Michigan for my sisters and school, Saudi for friends' parents and home, Pakistan for my blood and people. I wished I could pause time, like goldfish who don’t blink, to hold onto moments longer—especially when leaving home, again and again. Leaving felt like splitting myself across distant waters four times a year, never quite whole. But like a goldfish’s sixth sense, I learned to navigate future possibilities, using my memories to find peace in transitions. I carry the faces of my grandfathers in my prayers, the voices of family during chai, the texture of hand-me-down clothes, and the warmth of nights spent with those I love. Those nights remind me of how much I cherish that part of my life. I once wished I could have all these worlds in one place, but now I realize I don’t need to be one thing, in one place, at one time. I carry these worlds within me, connected like merging oceans. Commercial real estate feels like that merging point. It’s where my experiences and hopes come together—not just buildings or land, but places holding stories and community. I want to build spaces where people feel seen and supported—places that serve diverse cultures and create belonging, just as I carry my worlds. Sustainability must be part of that vision. The places we build affect both the planet and its people. Using green design and materials isn’t just responsible—it’s necessary. Buildings impact energy use, waste, and natural resources on a massive scale, and I want to be part of changing that for the better. I want to help reduce environmental impact by creating developments that respect resources, lower waste, and improve energy efficiency. Creating spaces that are not only functional but sustainable is a way to honor the past and protect the future. This scholarship would lift the weight of rising tuition from my family and me. It would give me the freedom to focus fully on learning, internships, and preparing to build a career that bridges my past with the future I want to create. With this support, I can pursue my goal of developing community-centered, accessible, and sustainable spaces. I believe that through thoughtful design, we can create not just buildings, but homes and communities where people truly belong.

“Life would be so much easier if I were a goldfish” A quote posted to my Instagram account on a Tuesday night, only to wake up the next morning, wondering why I felt that sudden passion Yet in that moment, I was truly pixelated on how I couldn’t be one It sounds dumb though and I definitely shouldn’t waste a single breath on speaking about this but God! How a 5-month memory span would bring me so much peace I could swim in my Ras Tanura beach That singular strip of water that connected the east perimeter of my childhood compound I could swim across the Atlantic Michigan for my sisters and school Saudi for friends' parents and home Pakistan for my blood and people It would’ve helped me during those swimming lessons when I feared the sharks in the 8-foot side. Not blinking, like them, would’ve given me more time Time to take in the moments I needed more of Like that confusion I felt knowing I couldn’t detach my mind and body when leaving my childhood home Why couldn’t I have just had some more time! Never thinking I’d have to go through that again, it happens 4 times a year Leaving my home and lifelong friends to head back to boarding school My God! the way I refuse to blink after feeling that despair Like goldfish I too have a sixth sense Every move I make creates a spiderweb of future possibilities, helping me maneuver situations with a goal in mind and a plan on how to accomplish it. I may have been called an over thinker at times, but it’s always brought me my peace Like goldfish I too can easily recognize faces I never really got to know my grandfathers They passed before I could comprehend my guilt of that Yet though my accomplishments I recognize their faded faces applauding me on And through my prayers I feel their presence. I miss laying in my own bed Sunset pasta nights with my best friend, who, though we aren’t related through blood, is my sister. Late night drives with my people My parents' voices in the kitchen Kettle turned on to make the chai Baba’s cutting sourdough bread to go with it for my mom, Mama’s holding up the phone for him On FaceTime with their other two daughters Getting back from school and immediately getting ready for dinner parties Looking through my closet of Pakistani clothes and picking a hand me down rather than one newly made for me I would do anything to look like my older sisters. Those are the nights I return to during my visits home, reminding me how much I cherish that part of my life. The nights that made me wish that diverse wasn’t a word people used in describing the positive aspects of my life The times that made me wish I could have it all just in one place at one time However, like goldfish, I realize now I don’t need to be just one thing, in one place, at one time. I carry these worlds with me In the taste of chai and sourdough In the faces of my sisters on both sides of the ocean. The memories flow like water, and while I can’t always swim between them, I know they’re all a part of me. Maybe I’ll never blink away this ache, but I no longer need to. Because I’ve acknowledged that I won't be fitting into just one body of water. I can exist in many places at once as they’re all connected And I carry every piece of me, No matter where my tide takes me. The Pacific and Atlantic may be different oceans, and they may take up 50% of the earth's surface But they too, have a merging point And I do too.

When I was little, I fell in love for the first time, with a house. It was in Saudi Arabia, where I spent most of my childhood. That home was more than walls and a roof. It held family, tradition, comfort, and routine. It was where I felt most like myself. People say home is just a feeling, but that’s a gross understatement. Home can also be a place, a place that knows you, changes you, and stays with you even when you leave. Leaving that home didn’t just mean moving to a new place. It meant carrying pieces of several worlds with me, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Michigan. I felt like a goldfish dropped into new tanks again and again, each one unfamiliar, each one a chance to start over. But unlike a goldfish, I remember. I carry every memory, every moment, every story with me, even when I wish I could blink and forget. That experience, the feeling of being both everywhere and nowhere is what inspired me to study commercial real estate. I want to build spaces that feel like home, not just shelters, but places that hold stories, cultures, and people. Spaces where belonging isn’t a distant hope but a lived reality. I want to help others find the same comfort I’ve searched for. College costs are a rising tide that threatens to pull many dreams under, including mine. For my family, who has sacrificed so much to give me this chance, the financial strain is real. Receiving this scholarship would do more than ease that burden. It would give me the freedom to focus deeply on my education, internships, and growth. It would allow me to prepare to create spaces that matter, without the constant worry about tuition bills. My father is the strongest influence in my life. Watching him move across countries, build a foundation for us, and work tirelessly without complaint has taught me resilience and the value of hard work. His sacrifices remind me daily that education is not just for personal gain but for creating a future that uplifts others. To me, commercial real estate isn’t about buildings or profit. It’s about people. It’s about shaping environments that welcome us home, that reflect our histories, our struggles, and our hopes. This scholarship would be a vital step toward making that vision real, helping me transform the fragmented pieces of my past into spaces where others can feel whole. I don’t want to just navigate between worlds. I want to build the bridges between them.

When I was little, I thought life would be easier if I were a goldfish. It sounds silly, I know. But one night, I posted that thought to Instagram and meant it with my whole chest. A goldfish only remembers things for five months. Five months would’ve been enough to forget the ache of leaving home, the confusion of not knowing where I belong. I grew up in Saudi Arabia, with roots in Pakistan and a future in Michigan. At times, I felt like I was swimming across oceans to keep different pieces of my life afloat. Ras Tanura Beach. My sisters in Michigan. My people in Pakistan. I moved between countries and identities, constantly shifting. It was disorienting. But somewhere in that ocean of change, I found purpose. Home wasn’t just a feeling for me. It was a place. A compound full of rituals, smells, textures, and voices. I remember my father slicing sourdough bread for my mom’s chai, my mother FaceTiming my sisters, dinner parties that began with digging through closets for the perfect hand-me-down shalwar kameez. Those weren’t just memories. They were the architecture of my life. And when I had to leave that place, I felt like something had cracked open in me. That experience is what drew me to commercial real estate. I am not interested in just developing properties. I want to create places that feel like something. That hold people. That honor their stories. I want to build for people who, like me, have had to leave parts of themselves behind. For immigrants, dreamers, families, students, for anyone who needs not just shelter, but belonging. I will be studying business at the University of Michigan-Dearborn and plan to specialize in real estate. I am especially drawn to community-centered developments, spaces that are thoughtful, culturally aware, and accessible. I want to design environments that reflect the people who live in them, that bring neighborhoods together and make people feel proud. This scholarship would allow me to focus on that vision. It would help lift the financial weight off my family and give me the freedom to explore internships, mentorships, and leadership opportunities that will shape my future in the industry. The most influential person in my life is my father. He crossed countries with nothing but drive and heart, and gave me a life where I could dream big. He never had the chance to chase his passions the way I do. But he made sure I could. He taught me that education is sacred, that hard work matters, and that even when life stretches you thin across oceans, you can still find your center. Sometimes I still wish I were a goldfish. But not to forget only to hold more. More memory, more meaning, more of the places I love and the people I carry with me. The Pacific and Atlantic may be two different oceans, but they meet. So do I. Real estate, to me, is the space where all my worlds can merge. Where emotion and structure meet. Where I can help others feel what I once feared I’d lost: home.