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When 14-year-old Azher Ali was diagnosed with leukemia, the world around him split into colors. Hospitals became places of long, blue nights filled with quiet prayers and soft pink mornings when he’d pretend everything was okay. It was during one of those early, uncertain weeks of treatment that Azher discovered mandala art.
Umer Ayyaz, 7 y/o, was diagnosed with leukemia almost 4 years ago. Some days, his body felt like it belonged to someone else. He didn’t have the energy for loud, bold colors. So he chose soft green and soft blue.
His mandala grew slowly, like a tender thing learning to bloom again. Green for growth. Blue for breath. The simple, repeating patterns were soothing, and every petal felt like a kindness he gave himself.
For Umer, healing wasn’t fast or loud. It was steady. Soft. A quiet reminder that resilience can be gentle, too.
When 12-year-old Umaiya was diagnosed with leukemia, her days blurred into a haze of treatments and waiting. Some felt heavy as clouds, others as gentle as morning sunlight.
She chose to capture both in her mandala, blue for her sky-gazing daydreams and yellow for the part of her that wouldn’t give up. Each ring she drew felt like a breath, slow and steady. The final piece wasn’t perfect, but it was peaceful.
Umaiya’s art reminded her and others that it’s okay to be both bright and quiet.
M. Saad was diagnosed with cancer and was admitted to the Indus Hospital. The hospital lights were harsh, and the days were long, so he decided to make his sunshine of his own.
He picked bright, unflinching yellow and created a mandala that radiated like a tiny sun. The center was strong and steady, while each petal felt like a promise that I’m still here. Still shining.
On days when everything felt too heavy, Saad would look at his art and feel a quiet glow rise inside him. This was his light. The kind that doesn’t flicker when the world turns dark.
After being diagnosed with cancer, Mehwish found herself searching for light in places where the days often felt dim. She turned to art as a way to cope with the ache and fear.
One quiet morning, she reached for yellow, a shade that felt like hope; warm, steady, and alive. She added light green to make it soft and calm, like a breath of nature in a sterile room. Then came the light blue, cool and clear, like the sky after a storm. Slowly, a mandala began to bloom. Not loud. Not perfect. But deeply, quietly luminous. The colors blended like her emotions: heavy at first, then lighter, like a window opening in her chest. That mandala was her way of remembering that even small glimmers of hope matter.
When M. Saad was diagnosed with cancer, his world narrowed to hospital rooms and test results. He didn’t want to choose between being brave and being vulnerable, so he didn’t.
In his mandala, soft pink tones speak of safety and kindness, while shades of turquoise hum with quiet strength. Every petal was drawn like a soft reminder that you’ve come through worse, you’re still here, and you can make a way out of this.
M. Saad’s mandala doesn’t shout. It breathes. Gentle, steady, and unbreakable. A reflection of the quiet resilience he carries, even on days when his hands feel too heavy to lift.
Shah Abdullah was 13 when he faced the diagnosis of bone cancer. Chemotherapy drained his strength, but inside him lived a fierce, unbreakable spark. After one particularly difficult round of treatment, Shah turned to his art supplies and chose yellow and the palest greenish gold. It wasn’t just a color choice; to Shah, yellow was courage, and that soft green-gold was resilience, gentle but unyielding.
He painted a mandala that pulsed with quiet power. Yellow tones flared from the center like sunlight breaking through clouds, while that whisper of green circled it like living light. Black ink patterns laced the design, delicate yet strong, like armor drawn from within. To Shah, this wasn’t just art. It was his shield.
His declaration that he was still here, still fighting, still shining. He named it his power circle. On the longest hospital nights, he’d look at it and remember that strength isn’t always about being loud but can be gentle and resilient.
At 10 years old, Farooq Ahmed was diagnosed with lymphoma. He was too young to put all his feelings into words, so he let color do the speaking for him. In his world, yellow was laughter, red meant bravery, and green felt like healing.
When Farooq picked up his brush in the hospital art room, he couldn’t pick just one shade. His mandala dances between colors like a story told by someone still learning the language of grief and hope. The rainbow hues pulse through delicate, repeating rings, each one a soft declaration that no feeling was too small to be seen.
Farooq didn’t hide from fear or sadness. He gave each emotion a color, a pattern, a place in his little circle of hope. And that honesty, quiet and unassuming, became his greatest strength.
When 14-year-old Azher Ali was diagnosed with leukemia, the world around him split into colors. Hospitals became places of long, blue nights filled with quiet prayers and soft pink mornings when he’d pretend everything was okay. It was during one of those early, uncertain weeks of treatment that Azher discovered mandala art.
His favorite creation glows with a soft pink on the top, like warm lullabies and the gentle innocence of being a child. The bottom half is a cool blue, the color of midnight hospital lights and whispered hopes. Azher’s trembling hands traced neat petals like tiny shields, protecting the fragile peace inside him. At the center, a burst of ink and color blooms like a firework caught mid-bloom, a silent celebration of the courage he found between moments of fear.
For Azher, this mandala wasn’t just a pastime. It was a lifeline. A way to breathe through the heaviness. And though his hands shook, his heart never did.
When 14-year-old Azher Ali was diagnosed with leukemia, the world around him split into colors. Hospitals became places of long, blue nights filled with quiet prayers and soft pink mornings when he’d pretend everything was okay. It was during one of those early, uncertain weeks of treatment that Azher discovered mandala art. His favorite creation glows with a soft pink…
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At 10 years old, Farooq Ahmed was diagnosed with lymphoma. He was too young to put all his feelings into words, so he let color do the speaking for him. In his world, yellow was laughter, red meant bravery, and green felt like healing. When Farooq picked up his brush in the hospital art room, he couldn’t pick just one…
Highest Bid: PKR 15,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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Shah Abdullah was 13 when he faced the diagnosis of bone cancer. Chemotherapy drained his strength, but inside him lived a fierce, unbreakable spark. After one particularly difficult round of treatment, Shah turned to his art supplies and chose yellow and the palest greenish gold. It wasn’t just a color choice; to Shah, yellow was courage, and that soft green-gold…
Highest Bid: PKR 8,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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When M. Saad was diagnosed with cancer, his world narrowed to hospital rooms and test results. He didn’t want to choose between being brave and being vulnerable, so he didn’t. In his mandala, soft pink tones speak of safety and kindness, while shades of turquoise hum with quiet strength. Every petal was drawn like a soft reminder that you’ve come…
Highest Bid: PKR 6,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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After being diagnosed with cancer, Mehwish found herself searching for light in places where the days often felt dim. She turned to art as a way to cope with the ache and fear. One quiet morning, she reached for yellow, a shade that felt like hope; warm, steady, and alive. She added light green to make it soft and calm,…
Highest Bid: PKR 7,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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M. Saad was diagnosed with cancer and was admitted to the Indus Hospital. The hospital lights were harsh, and the days were long, so he decided to make his sunshine of his own. He picked bright, unflinching yellow and created a mandala that radiated like a tiny sun. The center was strong and steady, while each petal felt like a…
Highest Bid: PKR 7,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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When 12-year-old Umaiya was diagnosed with leukemia, her days blurred into a haze of treatments and waiting. Some felt heavy as clouds, others as gentle as morning sunlight. She chose to capture both in her mandala, blue for her sky-gazing daydreams and yellow for the part of her that wouldn’t give up. Each ring she drew felt like a breath,…
Highest Bid: PKR 12,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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Umer Ayyaz, 7 y/o, was diagnosed with leukemia almost 4 years ago. Some days, his body felt like it belonged to someone else. He didn’t have the energy for loud, bold colors. So he chose soft green and soft blue. His mandala grew slowly, like a tender thing learning to bloom again. Green for growth. Blue for breath. The simple,…
Highest Bid: PKR 6,000,000
Minimum Bid: PKR 2,000
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