hey we’re the kinda team that binges late-night infomercials… just to steal the best hacks for our clients.

Let me tell you something they don't teach in engineering school.

I grew up being called "the creative one" — and somehow, that got twisted into "you should be an engineer." So there I was, grinding through Electrical Engineering at Staffordshire University, UK. Degrees. Exams. The whole circus.

The day I graduated, I felt nothing. Not pride. Not relief. Just a quiet, uncomfortable realization: I'd spent years becoming something I was never supposed to be.

But that engineering brain? It gave me an edge. I started my first company — IoT systems for smart homes. Then a software house. Then a cybersecurity agency. Three companies before most people have their first job.

And here's where it gets brutal: starting companies is easy. Feeding them? That's where men get separated from boys.

I tried everything. Hacks. Gimmicks. Paid gurus who took my money and disappeared. Got ripped off more times than I care to count.

Then someone handed me a Gary Halbert letter. Then Ogilvy. Then Claude Hopkins. Then Eugene Schwartz.

These weren't marketers. They were scientists of the human mind. And something in me snapped awake.

THIS. This is what I was built for. Not wiring circuits — writing campaigns. Not coding systems — moving people.

Seven years later, I've built, tested, and scaled campaigns across 80+ industries. And every morning I wake up excited — because for the first time in my life, I'm doing exactly what my soul was designed to do.

The engineering degree? Best mistake I ever made.

Okay, storytime. And yes, it starts with $2.

A decade ago, a younger Zareen posted her very first gig on Fiverr. Rate? $10. After Fiverr's cut and taxes? $2. TWO. DOLLARS.

Most people would've rage-quit and gone back to scrolling YouTube. Not Zareen.

Because that $2 wasn't just money. It was proof. Proof that someone, somewhere, out of all the options in the world, chose HER.

She went all in. Obsessively learned media buying — the psychology of audiences, the science of bidding, the art of knowing WHEN to scale and when to cut with zero mercy. She didn't just learn the platforms. She learned the humans behind them.

Fast forward: multinational companies. Head of media buying. Head of operations. Budgets with more zeros than she'd like to admit.

And now? She runs the war room at TPE — managing millions in ad spend, leading a team of buyers who treat every dollar like it's their own, and building the operational backbone that keeps this whole machine running.

She still remembers the $2. She just doesn't charge it anymore.

Spoiler: what she charges now reflects what she actually delivers — and what she delivers is ROI that makes finance teams do a double take.

Age 13. Most kids: video games. Agha: dismantling websites trying to figure out why some ranked and some didn't.

No course. No mentor. Just a laptop, a dangerous amount of curiosity, and absolutely zero chill.

That obsession turned into 6 years of building, breaking, and rebuilding everything he could get his hands on. Started with SEO — learned it cold, mastered it quietly. Then had an inconvenient realization:

Traffic means nothing if nobody's buying.

That's when direct response marketing found him. And everything — every late night, every rabbit hole, every "why does THIS version convert better?" — clicked into place.

He's a perfectionist by nature and a learning addict by choice. If there's a better way to do something, he will find it. That's not ambition. That's just how he's wired.

Then he met Kazim. Not just a partner — a mentor. Someone who raised the standard of what "good" even meant and pushed Agha to build things that actually move the needle.

Now at 19, Agha has been doing this longer than most people his age have had their first job. He architects the funnels, runs the CRO tests, integrates the tech stack, and obsesses over the data so your campaigns keep getting sharper every single month.

The numbers don't lie. Lucky for you, neither does Agha.

Here's the thing about Mahnoor — she was supposed to be a coder.

Master's degree in IT. Deep love for logic, structure, and the elegant satisfaction of code that actually works. She was going to build systems. Solve problems with syntax.

And then... she discovered design.

And realized she didn't just want to build things that WORKED. She wanted to build things that made people FEEL something — and then click, buy, and come back.

That's where the magic happened.

Mahnoor lives in imagination. She thinks in visuals, structures in user journeys, and wakes up genuinely excited about what ad concept to test next. She's that rare creative who's also deeply technical — which means every design she creates isn't just beautiful. It's engineered to perform.

She leads the full creative operation at TPE: ad creative strategy, design execution, landing page builds, and the CRO thinking behind every layout. Every color choice, every headline placement, every button — measured against one question:

Does this make the cash register ring?

Pretty doesn't pay the bills at TPE. Converting does. And Mahnoor is the reason our creative never stops converting.

Nooriya didn't choose copywriting. Copywriting chose her.

Growing up, she had this... thing. Words just came naturally. And more importantly — they moved people. She'd say something and watch it land differently than when anyone else said the same thing. She didn't have a name for it yet. She just knew it felt like a superpower she hadn't fully figured out how to use.

Her first real job was as an email writer for a small company. She didn't have a portfolio. She barely had a plan. But within weeks, open rates went up. Calls were being booked. Her boss would walk by her desk with that look — the "I don't know what she's doing but please keep doing it" look.

Nooriya knew her words worked. She just didn't know WHY.

Then one perfectly-timed day, a Dan Kennedy book landed in her hands.

And the whole psychology of persuasion cracked open.

Why humans click. Why they buy. What makes someone stop mid-scroll and actually READ. She didn't just learn copywriting — she learned people. Their fears. Their dreams. The exact emotional triggers that make wallets open.

Since then? Emails that get opened. Landing pages that convert. Sales copies that close. She's studied human psychology the way doctors study anatomy — not because it's required, but because she's genuinely obsessed.

Now she leads TPE's entire copywriting team — and she'd probably call herself their best friend. We'd call her the secret weapon.

Okay first — don't go on my age. Seriously.

I started editing videos at 5. FIVE. While other kids were watching cartoons, I was figuring out how to cut between angles and why certain transitions made you feel things and others just... didn't.

I've been obsessed with the psychology of attention ever since. What makes someone stop. What makes someone stay. What makes someone feel something in under 3 seconds — which, by the way, is all you get before the scroll of doom claims another victim.

Video editing isn't just my job. It's my first language.

But here's where it gets interesting — because if you think I'm just a video guy, you've underestimated me.

For the last two years, I've gone deep into AI and automation. Not because someone told me to. Because I genuinely believe the future belongs to people who can build systems that work while everyone else is sleeping. My boss loves me for the automations I create (his words, not mine — okay fine, also my words).

I lead the video editing team AND run automation strategy. Two passions. One person. Zero complaints.

I'm also a bit of an extrovert, but I'll stop here before I take up half the website.

...Or maybe I'm just an overthinker. The jury's still out.