There was a time in my life, while studying at MNS University, when the world felt incredibly heavy. In Pakistan, we were living through a period of constant fear. As a Shia, the news was filled with reports of targetings and blasts. Every time I stepped out, I had a psychological trauma that stayed with me: I felt I could be killed at any moment.

At the same time, I was dealing with a deep personal depression after a relationship ended. I come from a religious family my father was the secretary of our local Masjid. As a teenager, I was what people called a “right Muslim,” praying five times a day. But during university, I felt myself drifting away from that path. I started to believe that my depression was because I had lost my connection to the Quran. I felt that true internal peace didn’t come from partners, money, sports, or material things it came from faith.

The Quran as the Key

When I heard about an art competition on “Peace Building” organized by Air University and the Multan Lions Club, I knew I had to participate.

My first attempt was a simple A4 sketch of the Quran and a key labeled “Peace.” But when an organizer challenged me to make it larger and more colorful, I went home and created the biggest artwork of my life. I used a large chart paper and expanded the concept. I painted a sea of golden keys much like the flying keys in Harry Potter. Each key represented a material distraction:

• Addictions: Cigarettes and alcohol.
• Desires: Sex, kisses, partner, and love.
• Materialism: Money, houses, and property.
• Escapes: Music, sports (football, cricket), and food.

I even included keys for “Suicide” and “Masculinity.” But none of these keys could open the heavy, jewel-encrusted wooden box labeled PEACE that sat in the corner of the painting.

In the center of the chart was the main focus: a large, beautiful key designed like the Quran, covered in green velvet with gold Arabic calligraphy. The “teeth” of the key were shaped to spell out the word PEACE. My message was clear: in a world full of material keys, the Quran was the only one that could unlock the box of true spiritual peace.

I was so proud of this work. I even saved money to put it in a massive golden floral frame.

The Exhibition at Multan Arts Council

The day of the exhibition was a challenge. I originally went to the wrong door at the Multan Arts Council and had to bring my heavy, framed painting back on the actual day of the event. When I arrived, the wall was already full, so I had to place my large painting on a chair next to my original small sketch.

There were professional artists there from BZU and other colleges. Some had very modern, high-tech entries like photos of “Peace” written on a hand. They had professional tools and training that I never had. But they didn’t have the story I had.

When the results were announced, I won 2nd Position in the handmade painting category. I received a shield and a certificate. For a moment, I felt that I only missed 1st place because I wasn’t a “professional” student with expensive tools.

But looking back, that day changed my life. It taught me that art isn’t just about technical perfection; it is about the real stories we tell. It encouraged me to keep drawing my truth, no matter how simple or “unprofessional” others might think it is. My art is my history, my trauma, and my healing.