FLWL – From Lahore With Love

By Irteza Ubaid

If I draw a straight line through the most formative moments of my adult life, an unexpected number of them lead back to one place: a red circle, a community of volunteers, and a shared belief that ideas, when handled with care, can genuinely move people. That’s why, when people ask me why I continue to organize TEDxLahore, my answer isn’t about events, branding, or prestige. It’s about identity. Much of who I am today – how I think, how I lead, how I listen – has been shaped by the TEDx community. And I owe it to them.

Curiosity Before Certainty

My journey didn’t start with certainty. It started with curiosity. I was drawn to the idea of ‘ideas worth spreading,’ not as catchy lines, but as perspectives grounded in lived experience. Over time, that curiosity turned into responsibility. Because once you realize the influence a platform can have, you stop treating it casually. From the outside, TEDx looks polished: a well-lit stage, powerful talks, a seamless experience. Behind the scenes, it’s months of work – speaker discovery, countless conversations, rehearsals, debates, license compliance, volunteer coordination, sponsor discussions, and constant judgment calls. Organizing a TEDx event is not an execution problem; it’s a values problem. Every decision asks the same question: are we doing justice to the idea and to the audience?

Moments That Shaped Me

Over the years, two events, in particular, have stayed with me. The first was TEDxLahoreWomen in 2016 – the first time we hosted this format in Lahore. It wasn’t memorable just because it was a success, but because of what it represented. The room was full of stories that were deeply personal, courageous, and necessary. There was a palpable sense that something important was happening…not because of the scale, but because of the honesty. That event reinforced my belief that when you create the right space, people will rise to it.

The second was in 2018, a year that tested our resilience. We had no anchor sponsor. No safety net. By most conventional standards, it would have been sensible to scale back or postpone. Instead, we did something radical – we trusted the community. We invited attendees to pay any ticket price they wanted. No minimum. No pressure. Just belief. And somehow, it worked. The event was fully funded. That moment fundamentally changed how I think about community. It showed me that when people believe in a platform, they don’t just consume it, they sustain it. That trust is not something you can manufacture. It has to be earned over time, through consistency, transparency, and respect.

Learning Beyond Borders

Another privilege this journey has given me is exposure beyond Pakistan. I’ve been fortunate to attend international TED events and global TED gatherings. These experiences opened my eyes to the sheer diversity of thought, culture, and perspective within the global TED ecosystem. Even more importantly, they allowed me to form friendships and connections across borders, people I still learn from, collaborate with, and lean on. It reinforced the idea that while contexts differ, curiosity and integrity are universal.

People, Not Just Talks

If there is one thing TEDx has given me personally, it is people. Through this platform, I’ve met extraordinary speakers who challenged my assumptions, partners who believed in ideas before outcomes, team members who led without titles, and volunteers who gave their time purely because they cared. These relationships have been far more valuable than any formal reward. They’ve expanded how I see the world…and myself.

Working closely with speakers has been especially humbling. Behind every 12–15 minute talk is vulnerability. Watching someone refine their thinking, strip away noise, and arrive at clarity is a privilege. You don’t just help someone give a talk, you help them understand their own idea more deeply. And in the process, you often end up questioning your own beliefs too.

The Challenges That Make It Worthwhile

Of course, it hasn’t always been easy. There have been moments of burnout, frustration, and self-doubt. Times when walking away would have been simpler. But then the lights dim, someone steps onto the red circle, not to perform, but to share something real, and it all makes sense again. Organizing TEDxLahore is, for me, an act of optimism. It’s a belief that thoughtful dialogue still matters. That depth can coexist with reach. And that communities – when treated with trust – can do extraordinary things.

Whoever I am today is largely because of the TEDx community, locally and globally. The standards I hold, the curiosity I protect, and the way I approach leadership have all been shaped here. I don’t take that lightly. And I don’t take it for granted.

The author is a TEDx Ambassador and the Curator of TEDxLahore.