The Narratives – Mohamed Miah

When someone asks me, “What’s your all-time favourite car?” I wish I had a quick answer—a specific model, a sleek design, or a nostalgic memory tied to a beloved vehicle. But the truth is, I don’t. I can’t. My relationship with cars isn’t a straightforward love affair; it’s a complicated story, one wrapped in running away, car crashes, and a kind of trauma that stays with you.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate cars. Like many, I’ve admired their beauty, power, and craftsmanship. I’ve marvelled at the growl of an engine or the elegance of a classic model. Yet, my connection to them is shadowed by a different kind of experience—one that’s not easy to summarise in a sentence or two.

This is a story I’ve held onto for years, one that will finally be unravelled in my upcoming book, I Wish I Could: The Narratives. In those pages, I’ll take readers on a journey not just through the events but through the emotions tied to those moments—why cars, to me, are a traumatic event.

Without giving too much away, I’ll say this: sometimes, the things we run to or run from become symbols of our greatest struggles. Cars, for me, hold that duality—they are freedom and confinement, escape and collision, speed and stillness.

So, when someone asks, “What’s your favourite car?” I don’t have an answer—not yet. But maybe, after reading The Narratives, you’ll understand why. Until then, I’ll leave you with this: sometimes, it’s not about the car itself but the road it takes you down. And for me, that road has been anything but smooth.

Stay tuned, and I promise, the story is worth the wait.