Discovering My Journey: A Glimpse Into Who I Am

Greetings, friends, and welcome!

My name is Amit Ahuja, and I’m truly thankful you’ve found your way here. This blog is not simply a series of entries—it’s a living canvas of my life, my culture, my struggles, and my ongoing pursuit of creativity and connection.

I grew up in Southern California, raised by a warm and loving family—two devoted parents, a sister, and our treasured cat. My early years were influenced by two powerful forces: the deep traditions of my Indian heritage and the vibrant, diverse, and sometimes unpredictable spirit of California. Standing at this crossroads gave me both obstacles and opportunities, shaping not only my identity but also the way I view the world.

Growing up during the ’90s was a gift. Video games, movies, and TV weren’t just hobbies—they were lifelines that offered imagination and escape when life grew heavy.

Games were central to my childhood. Countless hours were spent with the Nintendo 64, Sony PlayStation, and Sega Dreamcast, exploring endless worlds of adventure. On the computer, I got lost in Pajama Sam, I Spy, and Backyard Baseball. These were more than just games; they were training grounds for creativity, problem-solving, and storytelling.

Television shaped me too. PBS Kids introduced curious and relatable characters through shows like Arthur, Zoboomafoo, Barney, Where in Time Is Carmen Sandiego, and The Magic School Bus. Later, Disney and Nickelodeon filled my afternoons with laughter and adventure. And Bollywood was always there. Icons like Shah Rukh Khan, Aamir Khan, Govinda, Salman Khan, and Akshay Kumar told stories of love, struggle, and resilience in ways Hollywood never quite did.

Growing Up in California

California, with all its contradictions, left a lasting impression on me. Growing up in a firmly blue state shaped me in ways I didn’t always realize at the time. For years, I felt weighed down by the political climate—by cycles of censorship, overreach, and policies that seemed to ripple outward into the rest of the country.

Rather than giving me comfort, those experiences heightened my distrust of authority and deepened my belief in defending personal freedom. They left me with a profound respect for free speech, something I might not have cherished so deeply had I lived anywhere else.

Living where voices were routinely suppressed taught me the importance of dialogue. That understanding became one of my guiding principles when I launched my podcast: I will never silence a guest. My goal has never been to edit out perspectives but to provide space for voices—whether I agree with them or not—to be heard. That conviction, born out of frustration with California’s culture, became something I deeply value.

Still, my connection with the state is complex. Beyond politics, I’ve seen California lose much of the vibrancy it once had. The skyrocketing cost of living, the heartbreaking surge in homelessness and crime, and the crumbling infrastructure despite enormous taxes—all of it reflects priorities I can’t agree with. For me, California is both home and a reminder of the need to question what is too easily accepted as “normal.”

As an Indian, I don’t personally take part in religious rituals like Hindu festivals or devotion to deities. That has never been part of my identity. Instead, I see myself as spiritual, not religious. To me, spirituality means growth, inner peace, and connection with life and humanity—not ritual for the sake of tradition.

Religion has never been something I could embrace positively. In fact, I often view it as harmful, especially when it becomes a tool for division, control, or prejudice. Throughout history, and even now, religion has been used to manipulate, segregate, and justify inequality. Those realities shaped my outlook and made it difficult to see faith as a force for good.

For me, religion feels more like a system often turned against us. While I recognize it provides comfort and community for some, my own experience makes me distance myself. I prefer to focus on spirituality—values like kindness, empathy, and reflection—without being confined to doctrines or labels.

A Difficult Childhood

My childhood was far from simple. In 1996, I underwent a kidney transplant—a defining moment that reshaped the course of my early years. While others were racing bikes and playing in parks, my life was measured in hospital visits and side effects of heavy medications. The sterile smell of clinics, the beeping of machines, and the tension of waiting rooms became as familiar to me as playgrounds were to my peers. Anti-rejection drugs were constant companions, testing my endurance long before I truly grasped what resilience meant. At an age when most kids saw the world with carefree curiosity, I was learning just how fragile life really is.

School brought its own challenges. Being placed in special education carried a stigma that weighed on me. Sitting apart, singled out for “extra help,” made me feel different in ways I didn’t want to be. Quiet and withdrawn, I rarely spoke up, wishing instead to fade into the background. Bullying, especially in middle school, deepened that sense of isolation. Cruel words and laughter left scars no one could see but which shaped how I saw myself. It often felt like I was fighting two battles—one inside my body and another outside in the world.

Yet those experiences gave me lessons no classroom could: empathy, independence, and a strength forged in hardship. I learned to listen because I knew what it felt like to go unheard. I noticed subtle shifts in people’s words and expressions because I understood how often pain hides behind a smile. Over time, I realized resilience isn’t about denying struggle—it’s about carrying it forward and still moving on.

Though my academic journey might have seemed typical from the outside, my real education came from experience. Creativity—art, storytelling, and imagination—became my refuge and voice. Along the way, I drew strength from those who believed in me: nurses who offered kindness, teachers who saw beyond grades, and friends who stayed despite my struggles. Those moments shaped me more deeply than textbooks ever could.

Ultimately, my childhood taught me that strength doesn’t come from avoiding hardship but from facing it, learning, and growing through it. Those years gave me not only a better understanding of myself but also compassion for others fighting their own battles.

Education and Health

Like many Asian families, mine placed great value on stability through traditional careers. From early on, the message was clear: pursue something “safe” and respectable—IT, medicine, or law. Following that advice, I studied technology, earning a degree in Network Administration in 2014 and later focusing on Cybersecurity. By 2017, I was only a few classes short of finishing my bachelor’s degree, right on track toward the career path expected of me.

But life rarely stays on script. In 2016, I was diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD), a chronic condition that challenged me in ways I never saw coming. Suddenly, the path I had walked so firmly grew steep. IBD demanded my time, energy, and resilience. At the same time, I felt a strong pull toward independence and a life truer to who I was. Between health struggles, family expectations, and my own evolving sense of self, I made the hard decision to step away from school. That choice became one of the most defining turning points in my life.

Even before my diagnosis, I’d always sensed I didn’t fit into the mold of a traditional 9-to-5. I’ve had an independent streak since childhood, paired with a natural instinct for leadership. I’ve never been fully comfortable following someone else’s script for my life. Deep down, I longed for freedom—to create, lead, and innovate outside of conventional boundaries.

Stepping away from school felt like a detour at the time, but it gave me clarity. It forced me to ask the hard questions: What life do I want? What work excites me? What do I want my efforts to represent? In searching for answers, I realized my path wasn’t about abandoning stability but redefining it on my own terms.

I still carry my IT and cybersecurity knowledge, but I also carry something more: adaptability, resilience, and a vision for independence. Living with IBD taught me to face obstacles head-on and turn them into growth. My journey hasn’t been linear, but it’s authentic. It made me more than just a professional—it made me someone with purpose, determined to live and create outside the box.

Creativity and Photography

In 2018, I made a deliberate choice to treat creativity as more than a side interest and embrace it as a true pursuit. Before then, I admired the artistry of others without fully committing to my own creative voice. Inspired by photographers like Holly Randall and Dean Capture, I picked up a camera and started what became Creation By Lens.

This project was never about recognition, money, or building a brand. It was about presence—slowing down in a fast world, noticing subtle details, and turning them into something lasting. Photography became my way of anchoring fleeting moments and shaping them into visual stories.

I photograph whatever sparks my attention, whether ordinary or unexpected. I avoid categories or labels, because creativity thrives without borders. My work is guided by curiosity and intuition, capturing what resonates in the moment.

At the same time, I was drawn to books and documentaries that challenged the mainstream. Dean Koontz’s suspense, Freida McFadden’s psychological twists, Ann Rule’s true crime insights, and David Icke’s provocative theories—all pushed me to question the norm and think critically. They reminded me that creativity is not limited to one medium; it’s a mindset of exploring the edges of thought.

These explorations—photography and inquiry—naturally led me to podcasting. It felt like the next step, blending visual storytelling with conversation. Through podcasting, I could channel both my curiosity and creativity, weaving together voices and perspectives. What began in 2018 as quiet experimentation grew into a lifelong journey of expression and connection.

The Birth of Hawk-IT Podcast

In 2021, following a profound spiritual experience and a symbolic encounter with a hawk, I launched what would become the Hawk-IT Podcast. At first, it was just me—sharing reflections and fragments of thought. It quickly grew into something bigger: conversations with creators and everyday people who shared extraordinary stories. Each interview reminded me of a simple truth—every person carries a story worth hearing.

The past five years have been both rewarding and challenging, offering a mix of eye-opening experiences. When asked if I’ve had support, the answer is no. Too often, support is conditional; it vanishes when you no longer serve someone else’s interests. That truth has been painful but clarifying, forcing me to dig deeper into why I started creating.

Some of my most powerful conversations were with models Amy Taylor and Darcy Diamond, who spoke courageously about vulnerability, and with bands like Lives Lost, Chasing the Comet Deadlands, and Feel Good Band, who opened up about their creative struggles. Their honesty reminded me why Hawk-IT exists: to highlight the raw, messy, inspiring stories behind the art.

By 2023, though, I reached a turning point. Many guests grew hesitant to open up, and I was burning out managing everything alone. It felt like the podcast had run its course. But instead of ending it, I chose to evolve it. The hawk—symbol of perspective and adaptability—reminded me that Hawk-IT didn’t need to die; it needed to transform.

In 2024, I rebranded to Hawk-IT Media and launched The Hawk-IT Interview, a blog platform for deeper storytelling. Where the podcast captured fleeting conversations, writing gave permanence. It allowed me to slow down, reflect, and give each story proper care. Hawk-IT Media became less about producing content to keep pace, and more about creating a lasting archive of human experience.

Looking back, this journey has been one of resilience, discovery, and faith. What started as a small podcast became a media platform built on storytelling. Though support has been scarce, I’ve learned to stand firm in my vision. Hawk-IT Media has never been about numbers, fame, or approval—it’s about honoring stories, lifting voices, and creating something meaningful that lasts.

Passions Beyond Work

Sports have always been a core passion—baseball, cricket, and college athletics especially. I proudly follow the Atlanta Braves, the Indian National Cricket Team, hockey, and Georgia Tech’s Yellow Jackets across sports from baseball to volleyball. Supporting them connects me to both tradition and community.

Fitness is equally important. I train five days a week, not only to stay healthy but to manage stress and maintain balance. For me, fitness is a combination of discipline, focus, and therapy—a foundation for my overall well-being.

My love of music is just as deep, encompassing a wide range of genres, including metal, rock, jazz, EDM, and darkwave. Bands like Bad Omens, Dayseeker, Linkin Park, Ghost, Deadlands, Dance Gavin Dance, AFI, and Thirty Seconds to Mars have filled my playlists for years. Live concerts are compelling—the energy, the raw emotion, the connection with the crowd. I’ve seen Ghost and Linkin Park four times each, and Thirty Seconds to Mars about six, and every show has left a mark on me.

Music, Photography, and Connection

Music has always been my most personal outlet. From the beginning, it gave me space to express what words could not. What started as a blog sharing playlists and reviews became a platform for connecting with artists and fans worldwide. Over time, it became less about promotion and more about real connection. Each collaboration deepened my understanding of creativity and the struggle that accompanies it.

Photography has been another cornerstone. With Creation by Lens, I’ve shared my own work and highlighted others whose perspectives moved me. For me, photography is storytelling—every frame a fragment of experience. Showcasing others’ work reminded me that creativity isn’t a solo act but a conversation among artist, subject, and audience.

At its heart, creativity has always been about connection. It’s the invisible thread that ties us together through shared emotion and ideas. Whether through a photo, a song, or a story, creativity bridges gaps and invites us into one another’s worlds.

Why This Blog Exists

At the root of everything I do is one guiding purpose: connection. Connection to people, to creativity, and to the countless ways our lives intertwine. This blog isn’t just a personal archive—it’s a living space where voices can be heard and creativity celebrated.

My path has been marked by struggles—health, belonging, and identity—but those challenges became teachers. They gave me empathy, resilience, and the will to turn pain into something meaningful. Every story I share is rooted in that desire: not just to reflect my own journey but to help build a community where culture, creativity, and spirit unite.

I believe creativity is a bridge. It allows us to step into another’s perspective, feel less alone, and see the world anew. Whether through music, photography, or storytelling, creativity connects us in ways nothing else can. This blog is my way of honoring that connection and offering a space where it can grow.

So, thank you—for being here, for sharing your time, and for joining me on this vision. My hope is that as you read, you’ll not only see parts of my story but also discover reflections of your own.

Above all, I hope this blog reminds you that creativity isn’t just a skill or talent—it is a universal language, one that belongs to all of us. And when we share it, we open doors to empathy, understanding, and true human connection.

I'll leave you all with a quote I used in my high school yearbook:

“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”

― Maria Robinson

Connect With Me

Instagram: @hawkitmedia

TikTok: @hawkitmedia1

YouTube: Hawk-IT Media

Twitter/X: Hawk-IT Media

If you're able to support my work, you can do so by donating through my @hawkitpodcast (PayPal) or @hawkitmedia (Venmo).