April 17 update: This piece was originally published on April 4. But through incredible feedback in Write of Passage, it has been reworked and rounded out.
I carefully placed the last pillow. It was done. With a flourish, I swung around to face my brothers and cousins, debuting “The Wyvern’s Den.” It was a grand and green pillow fort, with a wide opening and an extra tall ceiling (thanks to chair-stacking technology).
For an Indian-American kid who grew up in the Boston area, my 8th and 9th grade were not typical years. Suburban New England life was upended when we moved to a spacious apartment on top of my grandparents’ hospital in Karachi, Pakistan. It was the first time I had a bedroom to myself.
The interior was expansive, but the scene outside was decidedly unromantic – situated on a hot, trafficked, and sometimes smelly road. Our friends lived in bungalows on the other end of town – where the Arabian sea laps against the mighty flow of the Indus River Delta. Other than the joyous sound of the ice cream cart mingling with honks of traffic, there wasn’t much excitement.
And yet, that hospital apartment became a bastion of creativity. It started with a game, when the five of us – my brothers, cousins and I – decided to open “shops” to sell each other trinkets and knick knacks.
Little pieces of aluminum foil that we called “Silverados” were minted by the two youngest ones, Adam and Nabeel. It was the currency of our markets. Among the wares sold were fairies, dragon den pillow forts, relics from ancient civilizations, and paper-crafted ninja stars.
The years in Pakistan changed my life. I increasingly feel like they saved my life. It was an otherworldly time – plucked straight from a dream. They gave me permission to be distinct, to create unabashedly, simply because creating was fun. Somehow, living on top of a hospital in a foreign country can create that space.
The little pillow fort business was a tinkering experiment that became infinitely more meaningful when I saw how others delighted in it. The Wyvern’s Den was popular for studying in, so I adjusted the fort to let more natural light in. My motivation shifted from the inherent fun of fort-building to making things better for others.
It felt honorable to be of service, even if all I was doing was making pillow forts. This feeling of being helpful – and its accompanying desire to build – has never left me.
Today’s Tinkering
Perhaps I feel nostalgic for these childhood creativities because sabbatical days have a similar fragrance. Straddling life between East and West, I’m in a similar place of play, doing things just for the sake of it.
I’ve published a poetry book with a free online reading experience, helped my Mother-in-law move in Taiwan, built web apps like one for scribbling nascent thoughts, and another for sharing Obsidian notes as public documents.
I’m that 8th grader again, gleefully assembling pillow forts in an odd corner of the world. Maybe there’s homework I’m neglecting: pursuing a predictable career path, tracking my net worth, or investing in real estate. And yet, tinkering feels important at this junction.
While disconnected to outcomes by design, today’s pillow forts can become architectural wonders. Last time, The Wyvern’s Den led to learning technology and business in college. What will happen now?
Whether a new job, a freelance gig, or a business venture awaits, I know the words and code that play in this internet city are already conspiring to write my next chapter.
We allow serious work to find us by tinkering, contributing, and sharing.
There’s a tension, the gap between what the work wants and what the person paying for it wants. Dancing in that gap is the work of creating our art.
~ From The Practice by Seth Godin
With time to tinker, what can you produce? Where would your next chapter lead you? These are trick questions. No one knows. Because there’s only one way to find out.
Thank you to Kaamil and Jackie for reading the first drafts of this piece.
Thank you to
Snap of the Week
The perfect place to tinker.
Kudos for having the courage to tinker and create your space on your terms and at your time. Every moment lived well is another happy leg in your journey through life and as long as you find meaning and happiness in your existence and better still, being thoughtful of those around you, you will be spreading the fragrance of your existence while experiences the sweetness yourself.
Love how this turned out! "I’m that 8th grader again, gleefully assembling pillow forts in an odd corner of the world." - how wonderful.
P.S. I'd love to get my hands on some Silverados :D