Social gatherings with family and friends in the Majlis or Istiraha are meant for laughter and genuine connection. However, I kept noticing a frustrating recurring scene: whenever we tried to play global multiplayer games (like Among Us), the technology that was supposed to bring us together ended up building walls. Language barriers made it difficult for some, and the rapid typing required completely excluded children from joining the adults.
At first, I didn’t set out to build a "platform." I just wanted to solve this friction for our own circle. I started by building a single game called "Find the Imposter." I leaned heavily on AI to build its logic, but I insisted on one simple yet vital feature: the "Admin" became a facilitator who could type answers for those who couldn't. Suddenly, the child who couldn't write became an essential part of the laughter and the challenge.
When I showcased the game to my colleagues and played it with my family, I saw the spark of joy in their eyes. The suggestions for more games started pouring in. In 그 moment, I realized the problem was bigger than just one game; we needed a "space" that gathered these experiences with our own dialects and spirit. That was the birth of Istiraha (The Lounge)—a digital space where we gather to relax and play, designed as an engine capable of hosting dozens of games without reinventing the wheel every time.
Engineering: The Core Engine
At this stage, I decided to move from a quick "coding experiment" to building a robust platform with solid engineering standards. The challenge wasn't just programming the game; it was answering a strategic question: How do I build a system that allows me to add new games (like "Kallak" or "Information Auction") without rebuilding the foundation every time?
I chose Expo and React Native to ensure cross-platform reach, and Convex as the backend to manage rooms and data in real-time. My goal wasn't just to build a "gaming app," but a Modular Core Engine. This architecture completely separated the "Platform Core" (player management, presence, and rooms) from the "Game Logic." This approach made adding a new game simple and non-intrusive to the core, paving the way for other developers to contribute their own games in the future.
I worked as a "one-man army"—coding, designing, and testing on Expo Go for iOS and the web version on Mac. Even though I didn’t have a user base yet, my obsession with Ihsan (excellence) drove me to focus on optimization and complex edge cases, such as abrupt player disconnections and Host Migration. I wanted to build an infrastructure that could carry the weight of my grand vision for Istiraha, even if it meant a longer development cycle.
Excellence in the Details: Your Dialect is Your Identity
In the world of gaming, Arabic is often treated as a dry, literal translation. For Istiraha, I wanted the "Excellence in Detail" to be the hero. I didn't stop at translating menus; I made the platform speak our language. I added a dialect selector so that instead of a formal, stiff Arabic, you could play in Saudi, Egyptian, Syrian, or Moroccan dialects. This wasn't just a technical feature; it was a "charismatic bridge" that made the game feel like it was custom-made for every gathering.
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Since boredom is the enemy of social games, I utilized AI as a "Smart Question Maker." Instead of repetitive questions that players eventually memorize, the AI generates fresh challenges based on the categories players choose, ensuring every round is a brand-new experience. Even visually, I provided various themes—like the "Coffee Theme"—to reflect the warmth and atmosphere of our real-life gatherings.
I didn't stop at what appears on the screen; I focused on digital "feelings." I used Haptics (tactile vibrations) to give players feedback during moments of excitement and designed Leaderboards to foster a spirit of friendly competition. I used Google’s Stitch tool to carefully design user flows, ensuring that the journey from opening the app to starting a game was seamless, clear, and free of any technical clutter that might ruin the mood.
The Perfectionism Trap: Biting Off More Than I Could Chew
Despite the technical milestones, I faced a different kind of challenge: the perfectionism trap. I was chasing a flawless mental image of the product. I refused to launch with a single game, insisting on releasing with 4 fully polished games. This insistence led me into endless loops of constant improvements without a clear Definition of Done.
Compounding the issue was my desire to appear as a "professional entity" from day one. I went as far as issuing a commercial registry for Molham Studio so that the App Store listing would be under a formal organization rather than a personal account. This step, while prestigious, added significant administrative and legal burdens on me as a solo developer with a full-time job. I found myself acting as the designer, developer, data analyst, and legal manager, which eventually led to a temporary "passion burnout."
I drained my energy on things that weren't a priority at the start—over-optimizing before having a single user, or insisting on cross-platform support from the very first second. I also stalled at technical hurdles like payment gateway integration (RevenueCat). I realized then that I had bitten off more than I could chew. The hard lesson learned was: "Let the baker bake the bread, even if he eats half." Trying to do everything yourself can kill the greatest ideas before they ever see the light of day.
A Warrior’s Rest: Not the End of the Road
Today, the code for Istiraha sits in GitHub repositories, and the project is temporarily on hold. But to me, it was never a "failure." On the contrary, this journey was the real "lab" that refined my professional character. I learned to be a Product Manager before being a programmer; I learned when to say "no" to feature creep, and I realized that a product that touches a user's hand—with all its flaws—is far greater than a "perfect" product that no one ever sees.
Achieving this level of technical and engineering output alone is a milestone I am proud of, but the most important lesson was accepting my own humanity. I don't have to be Superman. I am allowed to make mistakes, I am allowed to ask for help, and I am allowed to launch an "incomplete" product to learn from real people. Istiraha may return one day in a leaner form, with a team that shares my passion, to fulfill its original mission: being the bridge that brings family and friends together in a digital space that restores the joy of authentic connection.
In the end, "Molham" (Inspirational) wasn't just a name for the studio; it was a promise I made to myself: to keep experimenting, innovating, and learning from every stumble. Because the future is always built on the ruins of false perfection and the beginnings of honest self-reflection.