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From Karachi to London, If At First follows Zaf’s journey through ambition, setbacks, and the challenge of building a life across cultures.
It is a thoughtful and engaging novel about perseverance, identity, and the determination to keep trying when life becomes difficult.
Zaf leaves the familiarity of Karachi to pursue a bigger future abroad, only to discover that ambition, belonging and identity are far harder to balance than he imagined.
From Pakistan to London’s financial world, If At First follows one man’s journey through adversity, prejudice and the quiet determination to keep moving forward.
Available now in paperback and Kindle on Amazon.
From Karachi to London’s financial world, If At First follows Zaf’s journey through ambition, adversity and the quiet resolve to keep going when life tests him most.
From Karachi to London’s financial world, If At First follows Zaf’s journey through ambition, adversity and the quiet resolve to keep going when life tests him most.
It is a journey shaped by pressure, setbacks and the determination to keep going.
Zaf grows up surrounded by family, tradition and quiet expectations in Karachi. When an opportunity abroad opens the door to a new life, he steps into a world very different from the one he has known.
Living across cultures and navigating unfamiliar environments, Zaf encounters prejudice, pressure and the relentless demands of ambition. Yet through every challenge he carries the words of his grandmother — a simple mantra that has guided him since childhood.
If At First is a story about perseverance, cultural identity and the courage to keep going when the path ahead is uncertain.
Zaf grows up surrounded by family, tradition and quiet expectations in Karachi.When an opportunity abroad opens the door to a new life, he steps into a world very different from the one he has known.
Living across cultures and navigating unfamiliar environments, Zaf encounters prejudice, pressure and the relentless demands of ambition. Yet through every challenge he carries the words of his grandmother — a simple mantra that has guided him since childhood.
If At First is a story about perseverance, cultural identity and the courage to keep going when the path ahead is uncertain.
If at first you don’t succeed, try again.
With ambition and determination, he eventually leaves home in search of opportunity abroad. But the world he enters proves more challenging than he imagined.
Moving across cultures and navigating unfamiliar environments, Zaf encounters prejudice, pressure, and the relentless demands of success. The promise of a global career brings opportunity — but also difficult choices.
As he searches for his place in the world, Zaf must decide what truly matters: ambition, belonging, identity, or resilience.
If At First is a story about persistence, cultural identity, and the courage to keep going even when life does not unfold as planned.
If At First will resonate with readers who enjoy stories about determination, identity, and the courage to keep trying when life becomes difficult.
This novel may particularly appeal to readers who enjoy:
At its heart, If At First is a story about persistence — and the quiet strength required to start again when life does not go as planned.
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If At First explores the moments when ambition, identity and the courage to keep trying shape the decisions that define a life.
This story will resonate with readers who recognise:
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Shahid Chaudhri spent much of his professional life in international finance, holding senior roles across global investment banking and asset management.
His career included positions such as Executive Director at Goldman Sachs, Director at Salomon Brothers, and Head of International Markets and Investments at the State Bank of Pakistan, where he oversaw $16 billion in central bank reserves.
He later served as co-founder and Chief Investment Officer of Alpha Beta Partners, Chief Investment Officer at Capita Financial Group, Head of Client Solutions at Coutts, and Executive Director at NatWest Markets.
Shahid now writes fiction exploring themes of resilience, ambition and cultural identity, shaped by the environments and experiences of his international career.
He holds an MBA in Finance, an MSc in Computer Science, and a BSc in Mathematics with Statistics. He completed the Artificial Intelligence Programme at Saïd Business School, University of Oxford, and holds a Diploma in Company Direction from the Institute of Directors.
Step into the beginning of Zaf’s journey.
The crystal glass from which Samina Malik was drinking water slipped from her swaying hand. It
crashed into tiny fragments on the speckled marble floor of the dining room. Some of the
fragments spattered under the mahogany dining table.
“Sorry, I am just so worried about today,” Samina explained to her alarmed seven-year-old,
Zaf. She was beautifully dressed in a green-and-white salwar kameez and smiled at him. She had
not put on any make-up today, but he could see that with her oval face and slim physique, she still
looked sparkling. ‘The woman who has both brains and beauty,’ was how Zaf had heard people
describe her.
“Parveen, please come and help,” and their ‘Aya’ Parveen, hobbled in from the adjacent
veranda of their newly finished staccato bungalow, with a pan in hand. She was of medium build,
with a dark brown complexion and sharp, black, shiny eyes. As usual, she was dressed in a white
salwar kameez and sprang, despite her handicap, to pick up the fragments.
Step into the beginning of Zaf’s journey.
The crystal glass from which Samina Malik was drinking water slipped from her grasp and shattered on the heavy rug beside her.
“Sorry, I’m just so worried about today,” Samina explained to her husband nervously.
Zaf looked at his mother, concerned. This was the first time he had ever seen her so unsettled.
His father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Parveen, please come and help,” he called.
Parveen, the housemaid, entered quietly and began collecting the pieces of glass.
Zaf stood still, watching the scene unfold, sensing that something important was about to happen.
Step into the beginning of Zaf’s journey.
The crystal glass from which Samina Malik was drinking water slipped from her swaying hand. It crashed into tiny fragments on the speckled marble floor of the dining room. Some of the fragments spattered under the mahogany dining table.
“Sorry, I am just so worried about today,” Samina explained to her alarmed seven-year-old, Zaf. She was beautifully dressed in a green-and-white salwar kameez and smiled at him. She had not put on any make-up today, but he could see that with her oval face and slim physique, she still looked sparkling. ‘The woman who has both brains and beauty,’ was how Zaf had heard people describe her.
“Parveen, please come and help,” and their ‘Aya’ Parveen, hobbled in from the adjacent veranda of their newly finished staccato bungalow, with a pan in hand. She was of medium build, with a dark brown complexion and sharp, black, shiny eyes. As usual, she was dressed in a white salwar kameez and sprang, despite her handicap, to pick up the fragments.
Samina had told Zaf that Parveen came from his grandmother’s family village in the Punjab and had joined them four years ago, soon after Zaf’s younger sister Aliya’s birth. She was, Samina had said, the envy of her family for gaining a job in the City and for being able to send money back to her poor brothers and sisters.
“Thanks, Parveen, please lock up after us, turn off the air conditioning, and please let Rafiq know we will not be eating at home today. We’ll be eating at Nani’s”. She gathered her elegant handbag and tucked it beneath her arm.
“And please look after Aliya, give her a snack and try to make her sleep early.”
“Yes, Begum Sahib, and we will pray for your father,” mumbled their cook, Rafiq, who had been listening and now silently entered the room, dressed in his customary grey trouser suit. He was a tall and slim Pathan, with pursed lips and furrowed brow, and although an excellent cook, grunted more than he spoke.
It seemed to Zaf that everyone had been praying for his grandfather’s recovery from pioneering brain surgery in New York, on almost exactly the other side of the world. Zaf had seen him fight hard against his tremors, which had been slow at first and then wild and uncontrollable, and which had finally driven him to seek the operation.
Indeed, wherever they went, they would be asked about Dada’s health, and it made him think how much he missed him.
Dada was an intelligent, articulate man in his late fifties. Zaf had heard that he had been the Income Tax Commissioner for India before the partition from Pakistan, and later, as his mother told him, had been high up in the Pakistan Government.
He was well known for his love for cars and had told Zaf that he had been the fourth man in British India to acquire one, a fact recorded in the British Library. He was good at bridge and tennis, and he doted on his four sons and two daughters.
“I wish you would all do as well as Samina,” Zaf constantly heard him say to his children.
“Zaf is always top of his class”, Samina constantly reminded her father and seemingly everyone else, making Zaf cringe and bask at the same time.
He and Dada were special friends, and, more than anyone else, he made Zaf feel important and wise. He thought about how much he enjoyed sitting in the back seat of Dada’s car while he drove him calmly, despite early body tremors, around the well-tarmacked streets of Karachi, which were clean and wide.
They would pass through shanty towns full of dilapidated shacks where old clothes were hung out to dry on dusty makeshift lines. Bedraggled beggars knocked on Zaf’s car window, imploring him to ask his grandfather to hand over some money to them.
He saw the sadness in their eyes but knew he was helpless to do anything for them. Little, barefoot children, some of them with missing arms or legs, would wander disconsolately back to their shacks.
Zaf would find it difficult to put their image out of his mind during the rest of the journey.
They would wind their way through the business districts, past grand Victorian buildings and modern ones, and eventually stop and walk towards a toy shop to buy Zaf a comic or a Dinky car.
He would hold Zaf’s hand as they passed by the shopping areas, smelling of fresh, sweet meats and teas, buzzing with vitality, the bazaars full of crisp, brightly coloured cloths and aromatic spices. Zaf would glance at the cafes, ranging from makeshift huts selling refreshing sugar cane juice and Coca-Cola to smart brick-and-mortar cafes serving revitalising iced Nescafé.
Bookshops bulged with Urdu books side by side with English textbooks and best-sellers such as those by James Hadley Chase. Further up the high street, bars and discotheques coexisted happily with mosques and churches.
“Samina, don’t worry,” said his father quietly, striding briskly into the room. He always looked calm, and Zaf had heard people admire his crisp suits and gleaming shoes. Zaf knew he was a ‘Commander’ in the Navy.
“Oh, don’t say that, Kamal. I’ve been praying all night.”
“Yes, Faisal will call soon,” Kamal replied, referring to Zaf’s second-oldest uncle, Faisal, who had accompanied his father to America for the operation.
If At First is available in paperback and Kindle editions.
contact@domain.com
+62 832-6200-86263
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contact@domain.com
+62 832-6200-86263
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Copyright © 2026. All rights reserved
If At First — A story of determination, identity and resilience
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contact@domain.com
+62 832-6200-86263
© Shahid Chaudhri. All rights reserved.
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