The story name is

Thoughts and decisions of God(Allah)

Kashif, my love, I love you so much...

Saying this, her eyes slowly closed.

She was gone...

And Kashi suddenly screamed—

No! No!

What just happened?

Noooooo...

This can't be true... our future wasn't meant to end like this.

Kashi cried uncontrollably, unable to process what had happened.

“Why is this happening to me?”—those were the only words coming out of
Kashi's mouth.

Everyone else also wept watching her die, but Kashi’s condition was worsening
by the minute.

Everyone tried to console him, but it was all in vain...

“What sin have I committed so great that I deserve such a harsh
punishment?”—he kept repeating, as his eyes started to close and he collapsed.

Seeing this, everyone panicked. Muni and Shayan quickly picked him up and
tried to bring him back to consciousness, but nothing worked.

Now, they were facing not just the sorrow of that girl’s death, but also the
terrifying state Kashi was in. No one knew what to do.

But since Shayan was still alert, he rushed his car and took Kashi to the hospital,

Where he was now being treated, but...

Who was that girl? What was her relation to Kashi?

Why did Kashi become so helpless?

All of this will soon be revealed...

The story begins like this...

A night from the past...

Kashif was asleep when a girl appeared in his dream.

She talked to him with a smile and even expressed her love...

Seeing all this, Kashif suddenly woke up.

He felt disturbed and afraid, as this had never happened to him before.

He had no idea what it meant...

After staying awake for a long time , he eventually fell asleep again.
But—

The next morning, Kashif clearly remembered that dream.

His heart longed to sleep again, just to see the same dream.

He kept working silently for quite some time, and soon it was time for school...

The name of our story's hero is Kashif, but everyone at home calls him Kashi.

Kashi lives in a city in Punjab, Pakistan, and his family consists of the following
people:

Salar Ahmed – Kashi’s father, a government employee with a high post and also
runs a family business.

Haleema Salar – Kashi’s mother, a housewife who also helps with the family
business.

Then come Kashi’s two elder sisters: Maimoona and Rameen.

Maimoona is already married.

Rameen, after completing her English graduation, is currently at home.

Next is Kashif Salar, a 17-year-old student still in school.

Then his younger sister Kashaf, also called Muni, who is still studying.

And finally, the youngest sibling is Saad Salar, lovingly called Saadi at home.

Kashif belongs to a well-off, modern, and respectable family.

Now the story continues in Kashi’s own words...

I went to school.

There was no friend in class I could share my thoughts with.

I kept thinking about it, and soon it was break time.

As usual, I went to the canteen to buy something to eat, and what did I see?

The same girl from my dream was standing there, buying something.

My breath stopped.

Without buying anything, I stood there staring at her.

When she noticed someone was looking at her,

She looked up—

And the most shocking thing was… she also started looking at me the same
way.

We both were just looking at each other.

Time passed without us moving.

It felt like the world had stopped.

After a short while, one of her friends called her from behind,

And she walked away...

(Since our school was still under construction at that time,

the administration had temporarily merged the middle-level classes for both
boys and girls.

However, a separate section of rooms was designated for girls,

and boys were generally not allowed near that area.)

Now I was worried. “Oh God, what is happening to me?”

The whole day, I kept thinking about the moment when our eyes met.

That night, I couldn’t sleep either...

Morning came.

I went to school again.

Break time arrived.

I looked everywhere hoping to see her again—

But sadly, I didn’t see her face that day.

Days passed,

But that girl never appeared again...

Yet every single night, the same dream came to me.

I was under a lot of stress,

And slowly, I began to understand what was happening to me.

After a month,
It was time for our exams.

One day, we were all gathered in the principal’s office to collect our roll number
slips.

There—

I saw her face once again.

I felt like I had entered heaven at that very moment.

But then suddenly, she looked at me and laughed.

I couldn’t understand why she laughed.

I thought maybe she was offended that I was staring at her.

But it wasn’t like that...

As we left the office to head to the ground for break time,

The same friend from the canteen came to me and said,

“Iqra is calling you.”

I asked, “Who’s Iqra?”

She replied, “Your cousin.”

Anyway, I went ahead and saw—

It was the same girl from my dreams, standing in front of me.

For a moment, I wanted to hug her.

I didn’t know why, but my heart was insisting I do that.

Controlling myself, I came back to reality, looked at her, and asked:

“Yes? You called me?”

She replied,

“Why were you in my dream last night?”

Hearing this, my heart jumped with joy.

I realized I wasn’t the only one going through this—

There was something from her side too...

I said to her,

“What kind of question is that? If I appeared in your dream, that’s not really my
fault now, is it?”

And I added,

“In fact, I should be asking you why you’ve been appearing in my dreams every
night for the past month!”

She said,

“I don’t know… maybe fate wants to bring us together.”

That was it.

I had been restless for her since the first night.

But I still didn’t know what was in her heart...

I was about to say something when she handed me a small note and said,

"Read this when you get home."

I quietly put the note into my pocket and silently walked back to my class.

By then, break time had ended.

Now, my heart wasn’t in anything.

In class, the teacher even scolded me once, asking where my mind was.

But in my heart, there was only one thought—

What could possibly be written in that letter?

Many times, I wanted to open it and read it right there,

But then I remembered her words, and I didn’t want to break that promise.

So, I quietly sat through the day...

Finally, school ended.

I rushed out and was the first one to get into the van—

Which was unusual, because I was always the last to come, and my seat was
next to the driver.

The driver was my distant cousin, Arif.

When he saw me, he looked surprised and asked,

"What happened today? You're here so early?"

I replied,

"Yeah, bro. I had a bit of a headache, so I came early."

Now I was just waiting—

Waiting for everyone to arrive, waiting to get home...

Eventually, we reached home.

Without greeting anyone, I went straight to my room, locked the door,

And immediately began to open the note.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

It was my mom’s voice.

"What happened, son? You went straight to your room, and Arif said you're not
feeling well. Is everything okay?"

I replied,

"Yes, Mom. Give me two minutes, I’ll come tell you."

I quickly put the letter in the drawer and locked it.

Then I came out and said,

"Mom, I didn’t eat anything during recess today, so I had a headache.

And I came to my room quickly because my uniform pants had torn—I was just
changing them."

Mom stayed quiet and gave me lunch,

But I didn’t feel like eating.

My heart was only focused on that letter—

But I couldn’t bring myself to read it just yet.

Seeing me in that state, Mom said,

"Let’s go to the doctor. I don’t know what’s wrong with you."

I said,

"No, Mom. I’ll be fine after I have some tea."

She agreed, and tea was brought.

Mom made me sit with her for a long time...

I was getting worse.

Finally, around late afternoon, I was free.

I rushed to my room, opened the drawer, sat down,

Took out the letter—

Opened it—

And began to read.

The letter read:

"It feels really strange writing this, but what can I do?

Ever since you appeared in my dreams, I haven’t been in my senses.

I can’t do anything properly.

I even caught a fever—

Maybe because this is happening to me for the first time.

Please don’t misunderstand me.

I’m not the kind of girl who talks to just anyone like this.

But ever since I saw you, I don’t know what’s come over me.

My heart wants you to always be in front of me.

I want to keep looking at you forever,

And end my life that way.

I feel like somewhere inside,

You might feel the same.

You can’t even imagine how troubled I am over this.

I wish I could come to you somehow.

Please don’t take my words the wrong way—

I’m a girl with a pure heart.

That day when I saw you at the canteen,

I couldn’t believe you were real.

I thought it was still a dream—

But it was real.

I think I’ve fallen in love with you.

And if this is what love is,

Then there’s nothing more beautiful than this.

I’m not even myself anymore.

Sometimes when I think about you, I laugh at myself—

Thinking, “What’s happening to me?”

Sometimes I feel like I want to be so close to you

That I could become part of your very soul.

And sometimes I wish I could forget you—

But when your face comes to mind,

It feels like everything else ends—

Like the whole world disappears,

And only you and I are left.

This thought takes me to a place of bliss

From where I can’t return.

If you feel anything like this,

Please let me know as soon as possible.

And if any of my words upset you, I’m sorry.

I don’t even know your name.

Please tell me your name too."

At the end, she had signed her name: "Iqra."

Reading those words,

For a moment, I felt like my heart had stopped.

I went beyond thinking—

Beyond logic—

I didn’t know what I was doing anymore.

All I could think was:

I wish I were a bird,

So I could fly straight to her and tell her—

"Yes, I’ve fallen in love with you too.

My heart feels just like yours...

The same restlessness burns inside me...

I’m also consumed by the same fire…

Since I’ve seen you,

I can’t think of anything else...

Your face is all I see..."

But sadly,

We can't always do what we feel.

Now, my condition was getting worse.

I just wanted the night to pass quickly,

So I could tell her everything.

Every single moment was hard to bear.

I couldn’t sleep the entire night.

I was so lost in thoughts of her,

That when the morning azaan (call to prayer) sounded,

It felt like a message from the heavens—

Time is running out.

Now my heart kept wondering:

How will I tell her?

How will we meet?

And lost in that thought, I slipped into a dreamy trance...

I got ready and went to school.

Classes had begun,

But I… I was just dying in anticipation for recess.

Finally, my prayer was answered.

The bell rang, marking the end of the period—

And I literally jumped from my seat.

But now I didn’t know what to do next.

How would I meet her?

Where would I find her?

I was lost in thought, so I walked over to the canteen and sat there.

After a little while, I saw the same girl who had called me before—the
messenger.

I called out to her and asked,

“Where’s your friend?”

She replied,

“I don’t know. She’s not really my friend.

Even that day, I only called her because the teacher told me to.”
I said,

“Okay… then please go find her and tell her that her cousin is waiting outside.”

She left, and I stood waiting in the same spot where we had met that day.

I had just reached there when I saw the same girl—the messenger—returning.

She came up to me and said,

“Iqra didn’t come today.

And she said she’ll only come now when there are exams.”

Hearing that,

It felt like the ground had been pulled from under my feet.

How could this be?

She was supposed to come today—at least today…

Still, with a heavy heart, I returned to the canteen and sat down.

So many thoughts swirled in my head that it started hurting.

Everything I’d imagined had turned out the opposite.

I found myself silently angry at Iqra—

Why didn’t she come?

Just then, someone placed a hand on my shoulder and said,

“Come outside quickly.”

Before I could figure out who it was,

The person had already walked out.

From the voice, I could tell—

It was the same girl who had been playing the messenger between us.

But I still wasn’t sure.

Anyway, I followed her.

That part of the school was still under construction,

So nobody ever really went there.

When she reached a point, she turned and said,

“Go ahead. Your cousin is waiting for you.”

I walked ahead, still wondering—

“Is someone playing a prank on me?”

A short distance away, through the window of a roofless room,

I saw Iqra inside.

And I instantly realized—

She was testing me, to see if I had truly sent for her.

I went in.

Seeing her so close, my heart and mind both froze.

I couldn’t move or speak.

I just stood there, staring at her without blinking.

She shook me and said,

“Where are you lost?”

That brought me back to my senses.

I said,

“Nothing… I just forgot everything the moment I saw you.”

She smiled shyly and said,

“So… you called me? Did you need something?”

I replied,

“Yes. I came to answer your letter.”

At once, her face turned pale.

In a very soft voice, she said,

“What answer?”

I said,

“The one you asked for in the letter you gave me.”

In a nervous tone, she said,

“So… you read it?”

I nodded.

“Yes, I read it. And now I’m here to give you my answer.”

She began to breathe heavily.

Then said,

“So… what is your answer?”

I said,

“I’ve seen you in my dreams too.

And from that very day,

Just like you can’t stop thinking about me—

I’m always lost in your thoughts.

Every day, all day long…

And if this is what love is—

Then yes, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Hearing that, tears filled her eyes.

And she said through sobs,

“You don’t know how much I’ve been hurting.

Morning and night, I only think of you.”

Hearing that,
Even my eyes filled with tears.

I couldn’t control myself anymore—

I embraced her.

She rested her head on my chest,

Completely surrendering herself to me.

Unaware of the world,

Unaware of anyone else,

I was lost in the warmth of having her this close.

No more words were spoken.

We just stood there, holding each other,

Calming the storms in our hearts...

Then the bell rang—recess was over.

We slowly pulled away from each other,

Both overwhelmed with emotion,

And quietly walked back to class in separate directions.

But just before leaving the new building,

Our eyes met one last time.

And in her eyes, I saw a peace—

A peace that filled me too.

I was quite at peace, knowing I had finally found someone who truly loved me.

That day passed calmly, and the next morning I happily went to school again.

I asked my messenger to call my "cousin" to the usual spot, and she did.

We met once more and talked again.

This kept happening — we continued meeting, talking — until something

occurred that neither of us wanted:

our exams began.

Now we couldn’t meet each other anymore.

My condition started deteriorating — every little thing reminded me of her

presence.

My heart longed to find a way to be near her again and surrender myself to her
— but it didn’t happen.

Then one day, during our Islamic Studies exam, I went to school, and finally, I
got to see her.

We cleared all our complaints first.

But now we both began to worry — what would we do in the future?

At home, there were discussions happening — that I would switch schools after
grade eight to attend a better one.
I made up my mind — if anyone talks about changing my school, I’ll just say I
want to stay here.

I won’t go anywhere else.

This school is good, the teachers know me, and they teach well.

We parted that day, comforted by the thought that we were enough for each
other.

I was happy again, convinced that we would still find ways to meet.

I focused on giving my exams cheerfully.

The exams ended.

Vacations started.

But this time, the holidays didn’t feel the same.

All I wanted was her closeness — and now, I couldn’t have it.

Somehow, I dragged myself through the first week, finding a bit of comfort in
the fact that no one at home had brought up changing schools again.

That meant, hopefully, I’d still be able to study at the same place.

But then one evening during dinner, my mother brought it up again —

“What about Kashif’s school transfer? How will he commute?”

I blurted out,
“I’ll go just the way I used to. I’m not changing schools. I want to study here.
This school is great. All the teachers know me. They teach properly.”

As soon as I said this, everyone looked at me like I had done something terribly
wrong and got caught.

Mom said,

“What kind of tone is that? We’re only saying this for your good.”

The way she said it scared me — I went silent.

Then both my parents and siblings began discussing the same topic again.

I grew upset, not even understanding what they were saying.

So I quietly got up and went to my room.

My heart was heavy.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

It felt like running away — far from here.

Even my family felt like enemies to me at that moment.

I couldn’t sleep the entire night.

All I could think about was —

What will happen now?

How will I ever meet her again?

Will we never be together?

Over and over again...

Time passed.

The holidays ended.

Now the result was just two days away.

The only thing I was worried about now was passing.

Judging by how I did in the exams, I feared I might fail.

But thank God — I passed.

Now it was time to return to school.

And again, sadness returned to me...

Because I feared we might never meet again.

The first day back at school went terribly.

Our seniors were ragging us.

I had completely lost hope of seeing Iqra again.

But as they say —

When something is meant to be, no one can stop it.

Something similar happened with me.

There was an issue getting back home from school.

The school bus used to come in the morning,

but in the afternoon it was always late — often arriving around Asr (late
afternoon),

and we would get off early.

My parents were concerned —

so much time was being wasted and I came home exhausted.

Again, over dinner that night, they brought it up.

“What should we do now?”

Then my younger brother remembered —

our cousin, the one whose van I used to take before,

he came home on time.

Everyone realized that was the solution.

So now I would go to school in the school bus,

but after school, I would come back in my cousin’s van again.

That gave me hope.

Maybe — just maybe — I’d get to see her again.

I was happy, but unsure of what was ahead.

Would I get to meet her?

Would she even want to meet me?

Still — the hope alone brought me joy.

The next day, I went to school excited.

But I couldn’t focus on anything.

Teachers kept coming, but I was lost — imagining the moment I’d see her again.

How would she react when she saw me?

Would she be angry?

All these thoughts consumed me.

Finally — the school bell rang for dismissal.

I walked toward my old school building.

As soon as I got there, my cousin gave me the worst news —

“School’s already out. We’re the only ones left. Everyone else has gone.”

A silent, painful scream escaped inside me.

Without thinking, I ran toward the new building —

as if maybe she was still waiting there.

Even though I knew she wouldn’t be...

Still, my heart wouldn’t accept it.

And of course — no one was there.

But now I felt this strange, bitter resentment inside...

Why didn’t she wait for me?

I’m running madly after her, and she doesn’t care at all...

From that day, I fell so ill that I couldn’t go to school for a whole month.

A terrible fever took over.

My whole family was worried — no one knew what had gone wrong.

Everyone had their opinions —

“Take him here, take him there, show him to this doctor...”

But nothing worked.

Then one day, my mother came to me with tears in her eyes and said:

“Son, if you don’t make an effort to heal yourself, no one else can help you.

Maybe you don’t care about yourself — but to us, you are our life. It hurts us to
see you like this.”

Hearing this, my heart and mind cried out:

“What wrong have your parents done to deserve this?

Why are you punishing them for your own pain?

Why are you choking the love of all those who truly care for you just to satisfy
your own broken heart?”
That’s when I decided —

No.

I’ll get better.

I’ll forget her.

I’ll move forward and rebuild my life.

Within a week, I recovered.

Though Mom didn’t let me go to school for two more days just to be safe.

But I didn’t mind anymore.

Two days later, I returned to school.

Caught up with a couple of new friends.

I kept myself busy.

When school ended that day, I found myself stuck again in thought.

Should I try to meet her?

But the bitterness inside me had grown so much —

I convinced myself:

“No. I won’t try to reconnect with her again.”

I returned to my old school building, where dismissal hadn’t yet happened.

I got into my cousin’s van and sat down quietly.

Just then, I saw my messenger —

maybe she had come out for something.

Suddenly, the love inside me awakened again.

I quickly called her and asked,

“Where’s your friend — my cousin?”

She said,

“I’ll go check.”

She left, and I returned to the van.

A little while later, she came back and told me,

“She’s still in class. I gave her your message. She said she’ll meet you in the new
building.”

I quietly made my way to the new building.

After waiting twenty minutes, I heard footsteps.

I froze, lost in thought —

What was about to happen?

She arrived, and as soon as she saw me, she said:

“I used to think you were a good person… but you turned out to be so selfish.
You left me, and it didn’t bother you at all. And now, look at you — standing
here with what face? What do you think I am? A toy to you? Someone you can
play with when you want and throw away when you don’t? I regret even starting
anything with you.”

As she said all this, tears streamed down her face. But she stood there, waiting
for my response.

I stood in silence, listening to everything.

My mind kept racing: What did I really do wrong?

And then it hit me —

I had made promises.

I had said we would keep meeting, no matter what.

I had broken every promise.

I left the school without even telling her.

I assumed the worst about her in my heart.

The realization sank deep.

I stood frozen, drowning in guilt.

I began cursing myself in my mind, feeling completely numb.

Just then, she shook me and said:

“Now tell me — on what basis have you come here?”

Without thinking, I dropped to my knees, folded my hands, and repeatedly said,

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

My tears started flowing, but I didn’t care.

All that mattered now was making things right with her — winning her back.

Finally, she helped me up and said:

“What should I forgive you for first?

For playing with my heart?

For stealing my sleep every night?

For making me regret ever loving you?

What exactly are you asking forgiveness for?”

I replied,

“For everything — everything I ever did that hurt you.

For every tear you shed because of me.

Please forgive me… or I swear I’ll die without your forgiveness — even today.”

The moment I said the word "die", she slapped me hard across the face —

then immediately hugged me tightly and said:

“Don’t you dare mention death ever again.

Did you even think for a second what would’ve happened to me?

How would I have lived without you?”

I said,

“I’m sorry. I never meant any of this.

But when you refused to forgive me, life started to feel meaningless.”

She replied:

“I forgave you the moment I got your message to come meet you.

What I said earlier — those were just the words buried in my heart that I had to
let out.

I can never stay mad at you.

You are the reason I even live.”

Hearing that brought me peace.

I held her tightly in my arms — as if we’d never let go of each other again.

We started sharing everything —

I told her the full story about why I left the school

and why I couldn’t tell her before.

We stayed wrapped in that moment until the final school bell rang.

Then, hurriedly, we let go of each other.

I said,

“Maybe we’ll continue to meet like this in the future too…”

Then I quickly got into my van, and she went to get her bag from class.

I was truly happy now —

the misunderstandings had cleared,

and I had gotten my love back.

I went home with joy and greeted everyone with a big smile.

The happiest of all was my mother —

tears of joy sparkled in her eyes.

I had finally returned to my old life —

but now with one new addition:

love — a love that had become more important to me than anything else.

We started meeting regularly again —

if not every day, then at least every other day.

Time passed like this —

six months went by.

And then, as our region’s final exams drew near,

the school began organizing extra classes.

Students would stay longer; teachers would give more time, and regular tests
were conducted.
The extra classes didn’t bother me.

But what haunted me now was —

how would I meet Iqra again?

Anyway, I wasn’t too stressed about it because I was thinking of skipping the
extra classes. One of my uncles was a school teacher, so I had already decided
I’d study with him after school.

But as they say—when trouble is destined to come, nothing can stop it.

Something similar started happening with me…

Whatever I wished for just never seemed to happen — and maybe this time
would be no different.

That day, although a little worried, I went home thinking I might still get what I
wanted this time.

Two or three days passed. I finally went to my mom and told her,

“I don’t want to take the extra classes. I’ll study with Uncle Shakoor instead.”

She said,

“Okay, I’ll talk to your father. Even I don’t like the idea of you staying at school
so long.”

I was relieved — thinking now things would fall into place. I’d be back to my old
routine, and I’d be able to meet Iqra again.
The next day, I came home from school and asked my mom,

“Did you talk to dad?”

She replied,

“Yes, I did. But your father said it’s fine — you’ll continue studying at school.”

I argued,

“No mom, I can’t stay there that long. It scares me, and I get hungry too…”

But nobody listened to me. Feeling defeated, I went to my room, thinking I’d tell
Iqra everything the next day.

While I was still lost in thought, dad came home from work. He asked where I
was, and mom told him.

He came straight to my room and asked,

“What are you thinking about, son?”

I just said,

“Nothing, dad,” and greeted him.

He said,

“Your mother told me yesterday that you don’t want to take extra classes.”

I nodded,

“Yes, Dad. I was thinking of studying with Uncle Shakoor.

He teaches math — and that’s where I struggle the most.”

Dad asked,

“When do the classes start?”

“This Monday,” I replied.

He said,

“Alright. Rest for now — we’ll decide by tomorrow.”

Then he left.

Now I was anxious again. What decision would they make? Should I tell Iqra or
not?

The next day was Friday. I came home in the regular school bus since it returned
earlier than the van from my old school.

The day after, I met Iqra and casually told her,

“Maybe we won’t be able to meet for a few months… There’ll be extra classes
at my school.”

She looked a bit down at first but then said,

“That’s okay. We should start thinking about our future too.”

I was a little surprised to hear that…

But then I thought, she’s right. We shouldn’t always sacrifice everything for love.

Now that she had calmly accepted the situation, I also felt a bit more at peace.
The next day, Sunday, Dad came to me and said,

Son, I think you should take those extra classes.

Your Uncle Shakoor has been assigned some office duties at the Tehsil office. He
won’t be able to tutor you.”

I quietly agreed, because honestly, my stress was already gone.

I got busy with classes. And even when I had time, I stopped going to the old
school — because I knew Iqra wouldn’t be there anyway.

Days passed, and the exams drew closer.

Now that I was completely focused on school, my preparation was going really
well.

I was happy — thinking that after exams, we’d return to our old routine. I’d
meet my love again… we’d make promises to stay together, to be each other’s
forever… to lose ourselves in each other again.

Exam days finally arrived. I did really well in all papers — except math.

I struggled with it, and unfortunately, our math teacher had also been assigned
to the Tehsil office.

The substitute teacher didn’t make any sense to us.

After the exams, we had holidays.

I went to stay at my aunt’s house for a few days to spend the vacation there.
At first, I wasn’t enjoying it much… but then something happened that made
me really question everything.

Let me introduce the family there:

Ibrahim Ahmed – my uncle (Khalu)

Shahnaz – my aunt (Khala)

Ariba – their eldest daughter, just slightly younger than me

Shahid – their eldest son, younger than Ariba

And then they had three more kids: two daughters – Sakina and Hafsa, and a
son – Usman

One evening, I was watching TV and Ariba came and sat next to me.

Some Indian romantic movie was playing — I don’t remember the name, but it
was your usual cliché love story.

I was focused on watching when I noticed something odd:

Whenever a romantic scene played, Ariba would look at me and then shyly hide
her face behind her dupatta with a smile.

I didn’t pay much attention — maybe because I was unaware or didn’t want to
overthink it.

A day or two later, we were all playing that typical household game — the one
where kids pretend to run homes.
While we played, Ariba suddenly said,

“I’ll come to your room.”

I quietly nodded.

The game continued. After a while, dinner was called.

That’s when Ariba suddenly said,

“I love you.”

I was shocked — but I still thought maybe she was just playing along with the
game.

But maybe she meant it for real.

I didn’t respond. As I was leaving for dinner, she grabbed my hand and said,

“At least give me an answer.”

I smiled and said,

“Well, the game’s over for now. We’ll continue from here next time we play,”

and I walked away.

She came to dinner too, but I noticed something had changed.

She was silent, angry — not eating, not responding.

When someone spoke to her, she answered irritably.

I felt a bit strange about it.

That night, nothing else happened.

But the next day, I was playing on my aunt’s phone when the youngest cousin
came to me and said,

“Here, Ariba Bajii asked me to give you this.”

She handed me a folded note.

I silently took it and began reading. It said:

“I’m very scared… but I don’t know what happened to me since the day we
watched that movie together.

I can’t focus on anything, I don’t feel like eating… it’s like I just want you in
front of me, and that would be enough for me to live.

Whenever you appear in front of me, my heartbeat races… and for some reason,
I just want to keep looking at you.

Even yesterday, I truly meant it when I said I loved you — but maybe you
thought it was all part of the game.

Anyway… all I want to say is — I’ve fallen in love with you.”

She ended it by writing our names together:

“Ariba Kashif”

I was stunned.
How could someone fall in love with me just like that — without any deep
connection or reason?

Nothing in the letter touched me — except the way she wrote our names
together at the end.

It made me feel, even if just a little, like I mattered to someone.

Like I was a real part of someone’s world.

But my heart… it still beat for Iqra alone.

So, to end the matter completely — I tore the letter into small pieces.

And right in the room where Ariba and the others were sitting, I threw the
shredded pieces into the air like dust…

Then quietly walked away.

I felt peaceful… but somewhere inside, a voice whispered,

“Maybe you were too harsh.

You shouldn’t have crushed her feelings like that.”

Still, I was clear in my heart — I could only love Iqra.

There was no space for anyone else.

A couple of days passed.

We started playing that house game again… and again Ariba said,

“I’ll come with you.”

I nodded silently.

She wasn’t paying attention to the game. I asked,

“What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, she started sobbing and said through hiccups,

“What’s my fault that you’re punishing me like this?

What should I do if I’ve started liking you?

The heart doesn’t ask permission… it just chooses.”

She leaned into me and kept crying.

For a moment, I felt like giving in —

like telling her, “Yes, we love each other too.”

I couldn’t bear to see her cry.

But then I thought — I’d be betraying both her and Iqra.

So I gently moved her away and said:

“You’re absolutely right — it’s not your fault if your heart chose someone.

But I can’t do anything either…

I already love someone else, and she loves me just as much.

If I wanted, I could’ve taken advantage of you — used your emotions —

but I’m not like that.

We can always remain good friends…

but I can never love you, because my heart already belongs to someone else.

Please try to understand that…

And stop crying — I can’t bear to see anyone cry because of me.”

Hearing that, she went quiet.

But her face turned pale, and the next thing I knew — she collapsed.

Unconscious.

I panicked and ran outside, calling my aunt.

“Something’s wrong with Ariba — she fainted.”

She rushed in, sprinkled water on her face, and Ariba slowly came to.

My aunt asked,

“What happened?”

I was terrified that she’d tell her everything…

But she didn’t. She just said,

“Mom… I don’t know what happened.

I was talking… and suddenly, I collapsed.”

I was wondering why she didn’t tell the truth, but then I remembered she
couldn’t have said anything—and I found myself laughing at my own
foolishness. Now I had started to feel a bit uneasy around Ariba. I didn’t know
what she might do next… what if she put me in a situation I didn’t want to be in
again?

No matter how a person is, it always hurts when someone else suffers because
of you—especially when you have the power to stop it. That’s exactly how I felt.
I just wanted to leave that place as soon as possible, so I wouldn’t have to see
her and fall into any more trouble.

That whole day, my mind was occupied with guilt. I felt like I was breaking
someone’s heart—and that wasn’t right.

Two days passed with no conversation. I started feeling normal again. Once or
twice, my little cousin asked me to play the house-house game, but I refused. I
told her I wasn’t in the mood.

Then one evening, all of us cousins were sitting together. I was helping my
youngest cousin with a colorful school assignment—something many kids hand
over to the adults if it’s the kind of work they enjoy. After finishing that, I sat
down with my aunt and started chatting.

That’s when she said to me, “Do you know what’s wrong with Ariba? She hasn’t
been herself these last few days. She’s not eating properly, doesn’t talk much,
and she isn’t helping around the house like she used to.”

I almost blurted out, “Actually, she’s in love with me, and I turned her down.
That’s why she’s behaving this way.”
But thankfully, I held my tongue and said, “Aunty, I’m not sure… maybe there’s
something going on at school that she’s not comfortable sharing, and it’s
affecting her like this.”

My aunt nodded and said, “That’s possible. I’ll talk to her about it today.”

At that moment, I realized how stupid I had been. I had practically dug my own
grave—what if Ariba told her everything? My aunt would skin me alive. Still, I
knew Ariba wasn’t that bold. She wasn't the kind of modern girl who would tell
her mom something like that. But the fear remained.

I got up and went to another room. Just then, my little cousin came in again
with a folded piece of paper in her hand and handed it to me before running
away.

I unfolded it—it was the same colorful page I had drawn on—and along with the
drawing, it had a message written on it:

“This page is very precious to me because your hands touched it. I could’ve
kissed it over and over and swallowed it… but I wanted you to know how deeply
I love you.”

And next to the message, there was a pink lip mark. I didn’t need to guess
whose lips they were.

I folded the letter and slipped it into my pocket. Then I looked around for my
little cousin, hoping to ask her to bring Ariba to me.
Because by now, I had made up my mind—I would explain to her that she
couldn’t just force her love on someone like this. I thought I could make her
understand that what she was feeling wasn’t love—it was just an emotional
attachment. Though deep down, I knew she truly loved me.

My little cousin was swinging in the courtyard. I called her over and asked her to
bring Ariba.

She left, and I began wondering how I’d even start the conversation.

A few moments later, Ariba came and asked, “Yes? What did you want to talk
about?”

I took her to the storeroom so no one would see us talking.

As soon as we got there, I said, “What is this foolishness you’re doing?”

She replied calmly, “It’s not foolishness. I love you. What can I do about it
now?”

I said, “Listen, Ariba, you’re too young to understand these things. You’ve
probably just fixated on one thing, and that’s why you think you love me. But
that’s not how love works. Love doesn’t just happen that easily.”

She said, “I don’t care what’s right or wrong. I just know that I like you.”

She was shifting from ‘you’ to ‘mine,’ as if trying to claim me. But I wasn’t going
to fall for that.

I started explaining again, “Look, here’s the thing…”

Then I paused. I didn’t know what more to say. My words had hit a wall.

That’s when I came up with a plan—to tell her that maybe I had a little feeling
for her, but not to expect anything from me.

I said, “You know, when you wrote that letter and added your name with mine, I
kind of liked it too. But here’s the truth—I told you I love another girl, and that’s
still true. If she ever comes back into my life, I’ll never be able to accept anyone
else. Still, you’ll always be a beautiful memory for me—you’ll always have a
place in my heart.”

She looked at me and said, “What if I told you that I could love you even more
than that girl ever did? What would you say then?”

Her words left me stunned. I thought for a moment and then replied, “Let’s
leave that to the future. Let’s see who ends up with whom. For now, both of you
are equal to me.”

I didn’t want to hurt her. And the truth was—I couldn’t make any decisions right
then.

Finally, she agreed. “Okay, fine. I’ll focus on my future now. But you’ll always be
in my heart.”

I took a sigh of relief. At least the matter was postponed for now.

But deep down, I felt a little uneasy. I had basically lied to her—pretending I had
feelings when I didn’t. I had only done it for the sake of my aunt, who loved me
like a son. I couldn’t bear to see her distressed.
Still, my conscience kept nagging—what if her love deepens and she ends up
doing something crazy, waiting for me all her life?

That thought disturbed me. Sometimes I felt like going to her right away and
confessing I had lied. But then I convinced myself: if this lie is keeping everyone
at peace for now, maybe it's best to remain silent.

A few more days passed, nothing major happened. And soon my vacation came
to an end. I began preparing to return home.

Two days later, I left my aunt’s house. Since there was no direct train or bus to
my hometown, I had to take two different vehicles.

When I boarded the second one, I noticed a girl fully covered in a veil—staring
directly at me.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention. But when I moved aside to speak with the
ticket collector, our eyes met—and it didn’t take me long to realize exactly why
she was looking at me that way…

Because that girl was none other than my own love—Iqra.

I was completely stunned and almost rushed toward her, her name nearly
escaping my lips. But then I remembered—we were on a public bus, not in a
private space where I could hold her in my arms freely.

Once that realization hit me, I quietly went back to my seat. I looked at her, and
we exchanged greetings through our eyes. And just like that, we started
speaking without words—communicating through glances.
We continued like that for a while, catching up silently, asking each other how
we’d been.

After some time, the bus stopped and the person sitting next to me got off. I
wished Iqra would come and sit next to me, so we could once again lose
ourselves in each other.

And maybe God heard my wish.

Iqra was with her mother. Her mom said, “Beta, I’m tired. Let me stretch my
legs a bit. Go find another seat for now.”

As soon as I heard that, I was overjoyed.

I immediately said to Iqra, “Come sit here next to me.”

But she walked away without answering. That made me a little sad.

However, within moments, she returned and told her mom, “There’s no other
seat available except the one next to this passenger.”

Her mom said, “That’s fine, sit here. It’s not a problem.”

That’s when I understood her move—she didn’t want to sit next to me right
away.

But finally, she did sit beside me.

I was elated. My love was so close to me, and I could feel she was happy too.

I was so overwhelmed with joy that I couldn’t even look at her properly—my
mind had drifted into another world.
Then, softly, she whispered, “How come you’re here?”

That’s when I snapped back to reality and replied, “I went to my aunt’s house
for a few days. I’m on my way back now.”

After that, we spent a long while wrapped in love, exchanging affectionate

words. She sat so close, leaning against me, like someone wrapped in a side
hug.

I could never have imagined this happening.

Now, the whole situation back at my aunt’s house felt meaningless. I was lost in
Iqra again. I only had one wish now—that this journey would never end.

But wishes never really come true, do they?

Still, one thing was for sure: a journey that once felt torturous was now passing
so quickly, I couldn’t believe it.

Those 3 hours I spent with Iqra felt like one beautiful moment that ended far too
soon.

Just before we reached our destination, her mother woke up and told her to
come back.

Iqra got up to leave, but I held her hand and said, “Let me get lost in you just
once more.”

She quickly hugged me, and I gently kissed her on the neck. Her reaction was a
bit strange—like she didn’t really enjoy it. I immediately whispered in her ear,
“Sorry yaar, I couldn’t stop myself.”
After that, for the rest of the ride, we just stole glances at each other in silence.

My stop came. I discreetly waved goodbye to her and blew a flying kiss. She
responded with a playful hand gesture that looked like a slap—but with a smile
on her face. That smile made me forget everything again, until the conductor
nudged me and said, “Get down.”

I got off the bus.

Now, I felt no tiredness from the journey and no stress from the recent events. I
was simply happy as I walked home with Arif, who had come to pick me up on
his bike from the bus station.

When I reached home, I found out that my uncle Shakoor was getting married—
and the wedding date was already set. It was going to be on the 7th of the next
month, which just so happened to be the last day of my vacation.

Now, I had two reasons to celebrate: the wedding, and another chance to meet
my beloved Iqra—just like old times.

I was so lost in my happiness that I completely forgot I had left someone behind,
still waiting for me at my aunt's house — holding onto hope.

A couple of days passed, and then memories from my aunt’s place started
flooding my mind. How I had kept someone in the dark... and she would still be
holding on to the promise of something that wasn’t even clear anymore.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen now.

Would I ever be able to truly be with Iqra?

Would Areeba be able to let go of me?

Would she even understand the truth?

Did she actually fall in love with me?

Thoughts like these consumed the rest of my holidays — until…

One day, as I was out on an errand, a rickshaw hit me.

My left leg was fractured.

I was completely immobile for at least three or four months.

Everything we cousins had planned for my uncle’s wedding was now shattered.

And above all, I was deeply worried about Iqra — what would she think if I
stopped going to school without a word?

Eventually, my uncle’s wedding happened — but I couldn’t be a part of

anything.

And that hurt the most, because I was really close to him.

Just two months into my recovery, another storm came — I found out that due
to heavy rainfall, parts of our school building had collapsed.

So the school was temporarily closed, and the principal had shifted all students
to other nearby schools, just so their studies wouldn’t suffer.

This news didn’t really affect me much — I wasn’t attending school anyway,
and I’d lost all attachment to it.
Another month passed.

But I didn’t realize that in my negligence, I was letting go of something far more
precious.

One day, a friend casually said, “At least check where you’ve been admitted.”

I halfheartedly called the school admin.

What I didn’t know was that this one call would hit me like a storm — and I
would regret not calling sooner.

When I asked the admin where I was admitted, he said,

“It’s actually good news for you. You’re going back to your old school. The
teachers there already know you, and your cousin can continue to drop you off
and pick you up.”

But I didn’t need any pick-and-drop anymore.

During exams, my dad had already bought me a bike for next year.

The moment I heard I was going back to that school —

my whole world changed.

I’d have a chance to see her again.

To see Iqra again.

It hit me so hard — I, who had been sick and emotionally drained for months,
suddenly felt alive again.
I started eating properly. I started wanting to recover faster.

And I did. I began healing faster than even the doctors expected.

After just a week, a new X-ray confirmed that my leg had fully healed.

The cast was removed, and I was told to rest for one more week — after that, I
was free.

That one week felt like a lifetime… but eventually it passed.

Still, my parents made me stay cautious for another week.

By Sunday of the following week, I was fully recovered.

I had even started going on short walks with my friends.

The next day was Monday.

I had already informed my cousin to take me to school — since Dad wasn’t

letting me ride the bike just yet.

I woke up early that morning.

That day felt like the most beautiful day of my life.

I reached school right on time.

But since it was technically my first day back, it didn’t really feel that special yet.

I was just waiting — waiting for recess.

And soon, that moment arrived.

The bell rang, signaling the break.

I made my way to the canteen, my heart racing.

But…

What would I even say to her?

How would I explain why I hadn’t shown up all this time?

I walked into the canteen, but couldn’t find anyone who could tell me about
Iqra.

So I just sat and waited.

Then, one of my juniors saw me and came over, shaking my shoulder.

“Kashif bhai! You’re here!”

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said with a smile.

He was surprised — “Where were you all this time? School reopened weeks
ago.”

I told him about the accident.

Then I asked about Saleha — remember her?

She was the one who used to carry messages between me and Iqra.

He told me that Saleha and Iqra were actually in the same class and very close
friends. I had no idea about that until Iqra herself told me after our 8th grade
exams.
He said, “She didn’t come to school today.”

That crushed me.

Since the new building had been converted into a separate girls' section, I
couldn’t meet Iqra directly anymore.

And now even Saleha wasn’t around to pass on a message.

I stayed there, silently devastated. I skipped the rest of my classes.

Then a random student came and said, “Your cousin is waiting for you in the
parking area. She said school’s over and to hurry up.”

That confused me — which cousin?

I had come to school with my male cousin in his van.

Then a thought struck me — what if Iqra found out I had returned and sent
someone for me?

Hope surged in my chest.

I rushed to the parking lot.

There, sitting on a bench, was a girl — her back turned to me, wrapped in a
shawl. I couldn’t tell who she was.

I approached and asked, “Did you call for me?”

She looked at me — and it wasn’t Iqra.

It was someone else.

(It was actually Iqra’s cousin — her very close friend — but I didn’t know that.)

She asked, “Who are you?”

(Since I was wearing a mask, she couldn’t recognize me.)

I said, “You called me, right?”

She replied, “No, maybe it was a mistake. I’m just waiting for my brother Wasif.”

I realized then that the boy who came to call me must have confused the names.

Still, I asked her, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said.

“What class are you in?”

She told me her class — and I knew instantly that Iqra studied in the same one.

I didn’t want to be too direct, but I had to know.

So I said, “There used to be a girl named Iqra in your class. Is she still around?”

(And I took off my mask as I said it.)

Her eyes widened in shock.

“Kashif?! You?! You’re alive?!”

That line hit me like a bolt.

“Alive? What do you mean?!”

“Iqra Basheer — the one you’re talking about — she’s my cousin and my best
friend. She told me everything about you,” she said.

I asked immediately, “Then you must know — where is she now?”

She looked at me with surprise.

“You really don’t know?”

I said, “No… what happened? And why did you say ‘you’re alive’…?”

Then she told me the truth:

“One day, Iqra and I were talking about how you both were finally going to
reunite after the school break.

But then one of your friends told us that you’d been in a terrible accident.

And the moment Iqra heard that, she collapsed on the spot.

She fainted — and had to be rushed to the hospital.”

The moment I heard this… I was filled with so much rage — at myself.

How could I have caused her so much pain?

How could I have let her suffer like that?

I didn’t slam my head against a wall —

but I did punch it. Hard.

We were still talking when her school van arrived, and just like that, she left—
leaving me in disappointment. I had so much more to ask, but she was gone…
I went home, still fuming, and started speaking to everyone with a grumpy tone.
My family immediately noticed the change in my mood. I was too sad to talk to
anyone, couldn't sleep all night, and kept blaming myself. I couldn’t wait to go
to school the next day—to finally find out where Iqra was and what she was
doing.

The next morning, I reached school early. Once again, I was just waiting for
recess, hoping maybe today my messenger would show up and help me reach
my beloved. Finally, recess time arrived, and I headed straight to the canteen—
to my usual table where one could easily spot anyone coming in or out.

After a short while, my friend showed up—the one whose cousin was my
messenger. I asked him if Saleha had come that day. He said she had, though he
didn’t know where she was at the moment. That gave me a little hope—maybe
today I’d finally hear something about Iqra.

Eventually, Saleha entered the canteen. After picking up her things, she turned
to leave. Our eyes met. I signaled her to meet me outside, and she nodded and
walked out. I followed.

In a quiet corner of the school ground, she stopped.

“Yes?” she asked.

I asked how she was and then went straight to the question burning inside me
—"Where is Iqra?"

As soon as I asked, she looked at me in shock and anger. After a moment of

silence, she spoke:
“With what right are you asking about Iqra? What relationship do you have with
her? And why should I tell you anything about her?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. I was stunned. Overcome with confusion and guilt, I
pleaded again, “Please... just tell me where she is.”

She finally sat down on a nearby bench and began to explain.

“Remember when your admission was shifted to another school and you
stopped meeting each other because of exams?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Well,” she continued, “That really upset Iqra. She thought you had just left
without saying a word.”

I interrupted, “But I did tell her...”

“Maybe you did,” she said, “but something happened that made her believe
otherwise. One day, she saw you in a rickshaw with another girl—very friendly,
laughing, shopping... You two even got ice cream and an umbrella.”

“Oh! That day…” I remembered. “That wasn’t just any girl—that was my sister
Kashf! She’s a year younger than me. You probably haven’t seen her before.”

Saleha looked surprised. “Oh! That makes sense. But Iqra didn’t know that.”

She continued, “She was already anxious because you had stopped meeting
her, and then seeing you with that girl just shattered her. She started falling sick,
became weak, and began acting like a lost child.”
I was trembling with guilt. But she wasn’t done yet.

“Then one day, we found out that you had a terrible accident. Honestly, we
were a bit glad… like karma was hitting back at you for hurting Iqra.”

My heart sank even further.

“When Iqra heard the news about your accident, she screamed and collapsed
on the spot. Her father rushed her to the hospital.”

I felt like the ground beneath me had vanished. I was numb.

“At the hospital, the doctors said it was a shock attack. Her condition was
extremely critical. We all kept crying, praying for her recovery. And by God’s
grace, she eventually regained consciousness. The very first word she said was
your name—‘Kashif... Nooooo…!’ Thank God her father wasn’t there, or
everything would’ve come out right then.”

She continued, “She stayed in the hospital for a week. The doctors strictly
advised not to let her hear or talk about anything upsetting—and even
suggested she not return to school for at least a year.”

“We all worked hard to keep her happy. We never once mentioned you. Even
when she kept asking about you, we dodged her questions. We had already
found out that you were fine, but we couldn’t tell her—not when she would’ve
insisted on meeting you.”
“She’s doing much better now. She’s at home, and her family keeps her happy.
According to her latest reports, she’s completely fine and can return to school…
if she wants to.”

After telling me all this, Saleha fell silent. I stared at her, consumed with self-
loathing.

I asked quietly, “Do you think she will come back to school?”

She replied, “We haven’t asked her yet.”

Just then, the bell rang. Saleha went back to class, and I stood there, haunted
by everything I’d just learned. What had I done? I had ruined someone’s life…
and I hadn’t even realized it.

Classes went on, but I remained lost in my thoughts. When the final bell rang, I
left and waited near the school van. That same girl from the parking lot—
Zunaira—showed up again. I rushed over and asked her to sit down with me.

Once seated, I said, “Zunaira, Saleha told me everything. And I’m so deeply
ashamed of what happened…”

She glared at me. “Now you remember? That someone once loved you enough
to die for you? Where have you been? Who were you spending your time with?”

I stayed quiet and let her vent her anger. After a while, she calmed down and
asked, “Well? Say something…”

I said, “Saleha knows everything now. You can ask her if you want. But for now, I
need you to do something else.”
She asked, “What is it?”

I said, “Find out—without telling her anything about me—if Iqra is willing to
come back to school. Just ask her that and let me know. I’ll decide what to do
next.”

Zunaira nodded. “Alright.”

Soon, everyone boarded the van, and we returned home. From the day I first
spoke to Iqra, nearly two years had passed. I had matured. I had learned what
truly mattered.

That night, something happened during dinner that shook me again.

My father mentioned a call from Ibrahim—my uncle and Areeba’s father. He

wanted to send Areeba and Shahid to our city for better education, as their area
didn’t have good schools.

The moment I heard this, I felt a jolt. The last thing I wanted was for Areeba to
come back into my life…

Thankfully, my mom interrupted. “They’re still too young. Let them finish
another year there, and then we’ll see.”

My father agreed, saying he told Ibrahim the same.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted—for now.

The next morning at school, I waited near the van, hoping for news. Soon,
Zunaira appeared, and I rushed to ask her what Iqra had said.
She sighed. “When I asked her, she just went quiet… then finally said, ‘I don’t
think I can ever go back to that school again. That’s the place where I found out
the love of my life no longer exists. Every time I think of going back, I feel like I’ll
die. Don’t ask me to go there again… I can’t.’”

I wasn’t surprised. I had expected something like this.

So I told her, “Alright. Then here’s what you need to do: try to bring her to the
park near Gulo Chowk tomorrow. Don’t say anything about me. Just bring her.”

She said she’d try but couldn’t promise.

I said, “Try your best. Tomorrow is Sunday—no school—so we’ll have time.”

Then I went home and asked my sister to come with me to the market the next
day to help pick out clothes for Mom. She agreed.

The next morning, we left at 10 a.m. The market was close to our home but far
from where Iqra lived. We shopped for clothes and wandered a bit. Then we
headed to the park, sat by a samosa stall, and waited.

Soon, I saw Zunaira approaching… but Iqra wasn’t with her.

I quickly moved to a spot where Zunaira could see me and signaled her toward a
shaded bench in the park. She understood and walked there.

I took my sister and followed. As I neared the spot, I finally saw her.

Iqra.
My heart filled with emotion. She looked at me—happy yet sad, maybe
assuming I was still with the girl she saw me with before.

I kept my cool and pretended not to notice her. Then, right as we got close
enough to be heard, I acted as if I tripped and fell—letting out a cry.

My sister rushed over. “Oh no! Kashif bhai, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It felt like someone called out to me from the heart, and
I lost myself… hit this stone and fell.”

My sister scolded me playfully. “You never listen! You always get hurt the most
since childhood. Take care of yourself!”

I glanced toward Iqra.

Tears were in her eyes.

Our eyes finally met. And in that instant, I saw in her eyes the same tears that
were now filling mine. She kept staring at me, and I at her—until suddenly, she
collapsed onto a bench.

I panicked and rushed to her side.

She had fainted again.

Her cousin was trying to help her, and after a minute or two, she came to. When
she saw me again, she tried to reach for me, but her cousin held her back. Still,
she looked at me with love and whispered, “Kashif… where did you go? Do you
even know what it’s like without you…?”
And with that, she fainted again.

But this time… I was calm.

Because she had seen me—alive, well, standing right in front of her.

I told Zunaira, “When she wakes up, tell her everything—what happened to me,
who the girl was (though I’m sure she’s realized it’s my sister). Give her all the
details. And tell her… I’ll be waiting for her at school.”

As we stood there, Iqra regained consciousness. She looked at me and tried to

speak. I gently said, “You’re not in the right condition right now. I’ve told
everything to Zunaira. Just ask her.”

Then I turned to Zunaira. “You both should go now. There are too many people
here, and Iqra needs rest.”

Iqra didn’t say a word. She just kept looking at me with love in her eyes.

And then, I walked away—back to my sister.

It was time to explain everything to her. After all, she had witnessed everything,
and I hadn’t even realized. Bringing my sister along had two main purposes:
one, so that Iqra would know this girl was no stranger but my sister; and two,
because I intended to tell my sister everything about Iqra...

I left the park quietly and walked toward my sister. Without saying much, I
brought her back with me to the same samosa stall, and we sat down at a table
inside.
I stayed silent, so she finally asked, “Kashif bhai, what was that? Why did you
rush off like that toward those girls?”

I replied, “Now, just listen quietly to everything I say. Whatever questions you
have, ask them at the end.”

She said, “Alright.”

Then I told her everything—who Iqra was, what she meant to me, what had
happened between us, and especially why I had brought her along today. I
opened up about my feelings for Iqra too. I told her everything.

After hearing it all, she said,

“Well... what can I say? You’re my elder brother—whatever you’re doing, I trust
it’s right. I only feel sad that, in a way, maybe it was because of me that Iqra
suffered. But I’m also happy... that now, maybe because of me, she’ll be okay
again.”

She paused, then added,

“And one more thing... I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me all this. Don’t
worry—I won’t tell anyone. This will stay just between us.”

Hearing that made me so relieved. Thank God she didn’t take it the wrong way
or misunderstand me.

Another reason I did all this was because someone in the family had to know—
so that, when the time came, at least someone would stand by me.
As for why I told Kashaf... well, she was the most trusted one in the house. Both
Mom and Dad took her opinions seriously.

Since we’d already left the park, I had no idea what happened afterward. But
later, I saw them both leaving in a rickshaw—and in Iqra’s eyes, I saw a
calmness, a peace...

And seeing that gave me peace too. I felt—maybe, finally, something good is
about to happen... for me, and for the love I carry.

With all this going through our heads, we made our way home.

Now, I was just waiting for her to return to school, so we could meet again—
officially. And something in me said... it was going to happen very soon.

Nothing major happened in between. But my sister started growing closer to

me, which was, frankly, going to help me.

The next day...

I got ready and reached school early, filled with a new energy—today, I felt sure
we’d meet.

Time dragged on... but finally, recess arrived.

I rushed to my usual spot, the canteen bench, and waited. Luckily, I didn’t have
to wait long. My messenger—Saleha—arrived, came straight to me, and said:

“Please come to the parking area. We’ll be there.”

I went right away.

About five minutes later, I saw Zunaira and Saleha approaching—but not the
one person I had come all this way to see...

They came up to me, and before I could ask anything, they said, “Let’s sit and
talk.”

Zunaira made a grim face and said,

“Kashif... she says she doesn't want to come to school anymore.”

I asked, “Why? She must’ve given some reason?”

“She just said... she’s lost all interest in Kashif—and in school too.”

Hearing that... it felt like something inside me died. That she didn’t love me
anymore... didn’t even want to see me.

Still, I pushed and said,

“Tell me everything. From yesterday till now. Please, I need to know.”

And honestly, I must’ve looked like someone terminally ill—like I was on my

deathbed.

Then they told me:

“After you left yesterday, she said, ‘Please tell Kashif... I’m sorry. I
misunderstood you so badly. You were innocent. It was my fault. I never even
tried to talk to you—I just made up a whole story in my head and ended up
hurting myself.’

Then she sat down, crying, and said:

‘See, Zunaira? I told you—this is what loving Kashif has done to me. Now it’s
clear: he never really loved me. He just... left.’

And then she broke down crying again. I had to comfort her and take her home.
Later in the evening, I tried talking to her again, but she wouldn’t speak. I didn’t
want to upset her further, so I let it go.”

Hearing all this hit me hard.

How could I have made such a big mistake—leaving her alone like that
yesterday? My eyes filled with rage—at myself. I slammed my fist on the bench
so hard, the wood cracked.

Both girls shrieked at the sound—then burst out laughing.

I was confused—why were they laughing?

Then Saleha said,

“Kashif bhai, this much anger isn’t good! You could’ve at least let us finish the
whole story.”

I cooled down and said,

“Was there more to say? I made the mistake, and she thought it was all her
fault.”

They laughed again and said,

“Kashif bhai, we were just messing with you. We didn’t think you’d take it that
seriously.”
I was stunned—wait... this was a joke?

I snapped back to reality and asked,

“If it was a joke, then why didn’t Iqra come?”

They said,

“Well... the doctors have cleared her to return to school, but her aunt wants her
to rest one more week.”

That brought me peace—so it wasn’t what I feared. She still loved me. Nothing
had changed.

Then I turned to them and said,

“Okay, but what was the point of scaring me like that?”

They replied,

“Well... we’re your sisters-in-law, so we do have some rights, don’t we? And
honestly, your queen had a hand in this too. What she said was true—but after
we told her a few things you’d said, she softened up. We asked her, ‘You love
him—but does he love you that way too?’ So she wanted to test you.”

“Well,” they added, “now we know—you love her just as much.”

I laughed—my cheeks flushed red.

School ended, and I went home. The rest of the week passed in classes—and
the good thing was, I finally caught up on the syllabus. My two messengers kept
me updated daily with news about my beloved.
Then came Sunday.

We all went out as a family—because the weather was lovely, and I was finally
healthy again. The outing was in celebration of my recovery.

We came back around 7 PM that evening. I was already thinking about

tomorrow—how we’d meet, how I’d answer her questions, how she’d look at
me...

With those thoughts, I drifted to sleep.

Next morning I got up early, got ready, and left for school.

Lectures went on... and then finally, the bell rang for recess. I rushed to my usual
spot and waited for my messenger.

Soon Saleha arrived—with a folded note. She handed it to me and left.

I opened it. It read:

**“Salam Kashif,

I’m deeply sorry that you had to endure so much because of me. I got trapped in
my own misunderstanding, brought on by my own mistake. But not anymore.
I’ve grown up now—I’ve realized that love isn’t just about being together... it’s
about patience, trust, and valuing your beloved.

No more waiting—just come to me now. Wrap me in your presence so deeply...

that there’s never even a chance of separation again.

Yours,
I.K.”**

Reading that, I rushed to the parking area. She was sitting on the bench by the
guard’s cabin.

I walked over and sat beside her.

As soon as I sat, she looked at me—and then gently collapsed into my lap.

I was startled—but a moment later, she opened her eyes and just looked at me.
She stared without blinking. Naturally, I stared back. Time seemed to stop... and
in that moment, we were free from every boundary. Lost in each other.

After a while, she lifted her head and softly said,

“Kashif... where did you go?”

I couldn’t hold back. I gently straightened her and pulled her into my chest.

“I didn’t go anywhere,” I said. “It was just time, playing tricks... I was never far.”

With her in my arms, I felt something wet on my shoulder. Her eyes were teary—
red. I pulled away gently, wiped her tears, kissed her eyes, and said,

“No more tears. I can’t see you cry. I promise—I’ll never let those tears return to
your eyes.”

She said,

“These aren’t tears... they’re feelings. They had to come out somehow. These
are tears of joy—the relief after a long separation.”
I replied,

“Whatever they are... I just don’t want to see them anymore, okay?”

She said,

“I never wanted to cry either. I just always blamed myself for losing you.”

Surprised, I asked,

“But why blame yourself?”

She said,

“When I saw you with your sister that day... I felt so hurt. I didn’t know what I
was saying. And then I thought... maybe I caused everything that happened.”

I said,

“If that were true, everyone would just take revenge and move on. But what
happens—happens because it’s meant to. At that time, fate didn’t want us
together. That’s why we were apart. But inshaAllah, not anymore.”

Then we parted slightly and just sat, talking... sharing everything we’d been
through.

Time flew—we didn’t even notice recess had ended. It was Zunaira who came
over and said:

“Hey, hurry up—school’s over! People are going to start noticing!”

Then she walked away.

We got alert again. Just before leaving, she hugged me tightly once more and
promised we’d meet again soon.

And as I walked away, I saw that same peace in her eyes... the peace I had seen
the last time we met.

That feeling—I can’t even describe it. It felt like I had won everything.

She went to her van. I went to mine.

Back home, I had to tell my sister the good news—that finally, we had reunited.

I rushed to my room, and—like always, whenever something huge happened—I

bowed before God in gratitude.

Today was big. So I offered two units of prayer in thanks, then told my sister
everything.

She was thrilled.

Time passed. We started meeting again. Six months flew by like a dream. We
were now so close—I even knew a lot about her family.

One day, after school, she said,

“I want to tell my family about us. Should I?”

I replied,

“Whatever your heart says. If you feel ready—tell them. It’ll bring us even
closer, and improve our chances of becoming one.”
She smiled and told me I should start thinking about telling my family too.

I said,

“Well... I can’t tell everyone yet. But I’ve told Kashaf. I’ll ask her to help—maybe
talk to Mom when she’s in a good mood.”

She agreed.

Next day, she told me she’d talked to her mother—and her mom wanted to
meet me.

That surprised me. Her mom said yes that easily?

I asked why.

She said her mom had a love marriage herself, and ever since Iqra’s illness, the
family took her seriously.

That made sense.

Honestly—it was great news. She and her mom would be home Sunday, while
the rest of the family was out.

Sunday arrived.

As usual, I woke up late—it was Sunday, after all.

I’d promised to be there by 2 PM. I got ready. My bike was at service, so I’d
already arranged a friend’s.
I reached her neighborhood around 1:45 PM—but didn’t know which house was
hers.

I asked a man at the corner for “Bashir Awan’s house.” He pointed toward the
red gate at the end of the street.

I walked there and rang the bell. The house looked impressive—like a mini-
mansion. Very elegant design.

A woman’s voice came:

“Yes, who is it?”

I replied,

“I wanted to meet Bashir sahib. Is this his house?”

She answered,

“Yes, this is his home—but he’s not here right now.”

I said,

“No problem, please just let him know Kashif Sikandar came by.”

(That’s what Iqra had told me to say.)

As soon as I said “Kashif,” I heard the door unlatch.

Iqra’s mom peeked out—and said:

“Oh, Kashif beta—it’s you! Come, come in!”

I entered the home and sat in the TV lounge. The house was beautiful and
spotless.

Soon, Aunty came and sat in the chair across from me, quietly looking at me.

I sat with my head bowed—nervous she might think I was some troublemaking
guy...

After a few moments, she said:

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before—but I just can’t remember where.”

I said, “You’re right… even if we didn’t meet directly, we’ve definitely crossed
paths once before.”

She asked, “When?”

I replied, “Once I was coming back from my aunt’s house by bus, and at one
stop, you and Iqra got on. You wanted to sleep, so you sent Iqra to sit next to
me.”

She said, “Oh yes, yes, now I remember where I saw you!”

I just smiled in return, and from there, our conversation began.

The first thing aunty asked was,

“Kashif beta, I’ll call you Kashi, okay?”

I said, “Sure, whatever suits you. That’s actually my nickname too.”

She replied, “Perfect,” and then her questions began.

Aunty: “What class are you in?”

Kashi: “I’m in Matric, 10th grade.”

Aunty: “Who else is in your family?”

Kashi: “There are quite a few people, actually.”

Aunty: “Then tell me, who all?”

Kashi: “My mom, dad, an elder sister, then me, a younger sister, and a little
brother. One of my elder sisters is already married. We also live with my uncle’s
family; they live in a separate section of the house, but since it's one big house,
we all live together.”

Aunty: “What does your father do?”

Kashi: “He has a family business related to bikes and tractors, and he’s also a
government officer, close to retirement.”

Aunty: “And your mother?”

Kashi: “She’s a housewife and helps my dad in the bike business too—it
originally belonged to my maternal grandfather.”

Aunty: “Alright, now tell me—how do you know Iqra?”

Kashi: “Aunty, honestly, it’s a bit like a movie, but not exactly...”

Aunty: “Keep going…”

Kashi: “Let me start from the beginning. I was a simple and decent boy. One
night, I had a dream—a girl came and said she wanted to marry me. The dream
broke, and the next day at school, I saw that same girl from my dream right in
front of me.”

Then I told her everything—how we met, how we started talking. Aunty listened
attentively. Maybe she was interested because her own marriage was a love
marriage, so she knew what love feels like. I stopped after explaining how we
met and grew fond of each other.

Aunty said, “You said your story was ‘a little’ filmy—this is a full movie!”

I smiled, “Yes, a complete film.”

Aunty: “Okay, keep going.”

I started telling her how we got separated, and how that became the reason for
Iqra’s illness.

Hearing this, aunty looked really upset. She remembered the days when Iqra
used to sit silently, like a lifeless soul.

Aunty said, “Kashif beta, I wish I had known. I would have gone out and found
you myself. At least my daughter wouldn’t have suffered like that.”

Kashi: “What’s done is done. The good thing is that we’re back together now—
and you’re with us too.”

She took a deep breath and said,

“Yes, and I really like you. Oh! I forgot to offer you something to eat or drink!”
She called out to Iqra,

“Iqra, beta, make a fresh milkshake for Kashi and check if the food is ready.”

Iqra: “Yes, mom. I’m bringing it now. The food is ready too.”

It was the first time I was hearing Iqra’s voice since I arrived.

Aunty said, “Kashi, do you know she’s been in the kitchen since morning,
cooking your favorite food? My daughter is such a good cook, you’ll forget
everything else!”

I replied, “I know, aunty. Once she made macaroni for me—it was amazing,”
and I started laughing.

Seeing me laugh, aunty got suspicious. She asked what was funny, and just then
Iqra’s voice came from the kitchen:

“Kashif, please don’t tell mom or she’ll scold me badly!”

But I couldn’t stay quiet—I whispered to aunty,

“Actually, aunty, once Iqra insisted I tell her my favorite food, and I said
macaroni. She promised to make it the next day.

When she gave it to me, I took the first bite and realized it tasted more like sweet
vermicelli than macaroni.

Still, I kept eating. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I said I’d feed her with my
own hands. I gave her a big spoonful, and the moment it entered her mouth, she
spat it out and asked what I was eating. I said, ‘Sweet macaroni.’
She was confused, saying, ‘There’s no such thing!’ After a while, she realized she
had used sugar instead of salt.”

Aunty laughed and said, “Yes, she does deserve a scolding for that. She should
be more careful next time.”

We both laughed.

Just then, Iqra came into the lounge with a tray of juice in her hands.

The moment I saw her, I couldn’t look away. Dressed in a light pink outfit, with
subtle makeup, she looked like a fairy from heaven.

I had only seen her in uniform before, and today she looked completely
different.

She came near and said, “Kashif, have your juice.”

But I was too busy admiring her to even take it.

Aunty noticed everything, stood up, and said, “Beta, drink the juice. Iqra isn’t
going anywhere—you can keep staring later.”

I came to my senses, turned red with embarrassment, and so did Iqra, who was
also staring at me.

I quickly took the juice and started drinking, and Iqra sat next to me.

Aunty started making small talk and then said,

“Beta, let’s have lunch now. We can talk later.”

I agreed, and we moved to the dining table.

Iqra and I sat opposite each other, while aunty sat beside us.

There were three to four dishes, all my favorites, and the food was genuinely
delicious. Iqra was truly a good cook.

But I wasn’t just eating—I slid my foot over to touch Iqra’s. When she looked at
me, I winked.

She flinched, and I kept doing it now and then.

Aunty noticed and said,

“Kashi beta, seems like you’re very hungry—you’re eating with both hands and
feet!”

I quickly pulled my foot back and looked at her. She calmly continued eating.

I got the message and focused on the food. It was so good, I overate.

After lunch, we returned to the lounge. Iqra went to clean the dishes.

Aunty resumed the conversation.

Aunty: “How was the food, beta?”

Kashi: “It was amazing! I didn’t want to stop eating, but my stomach was full.”

Aunty: “Alright, now let’s talk about something important.”

Kashi: “Yes, aunty, please.”

(Let me now tell you about Iqra’s family:

Her father, Bashir Awan, is a landlord with an agriculture business.

Her mother, Rukhsana Bashir, is a housewife and runs a famous boutique.

Iqra’s elder brother, Fahad Bashir, is three years older and preparing for medical
entrance.

And then there’s my beloved Iqra, currently in 9th grade.

Her uncle Khalil Awan also lives with them, along with his wife and their married
daughter. They aren’t very relevant to the story.)

Back to the conversation—

Aunty: “As you know, Iqra is our only daughter. We raised her with great love
and fulfilled all her wishes. When she fell sick, we were terrified. Doctors said she
went into severe shock and warned us that she cannot endure another
emotional setback for the next two years.”

I asked,

Kashi: “Wait, aunty—what are you saying? Is Iqra still unwell?”

Aunty: “No, no, she’s fine now. But mentally, she can’t handle another trauma.
This condition will last for about two years, after which she’ll be perfectly fine.”

Hearing that, I felt both sad and angry at myself. In a way, I was the reason for
her pain.

Aunty: “Don’t worry, beta. She’s fine. Just tell me—does anyone in your family
know about you and Iqra?”
Kashi: “No one, except my sister Kashaf. She’s even met Iqra once.”

Aunty: “When will you tell your parents?”

Kashi: “It’s the first time something like this is happening in my family, so I’m
nervous. But I plan to tell them during or right after my exams.”

Aunty: “Alright. But the sooner, the better. Sometimes everything else is fine,
but parents don’t agree.”

Kashi: “Don’t worry, aunty. I’ll convince them.”

Aunty: “I believe you, beta.”

Just then, Iqra returned from the kitchen, and we began talking again. But I
wasn’t speaking much—I was just admiring her and felt like hugging her tightly.

After five minutes, Aunty said,

“Nini beta, show Kashi around the house.”

I thought, “Nini?”

Aunty said, “We call Iqra ‘Nini’ with love.”

I said, “That’s a beautiful name. Come on, Nini, show me your house,” and gave
her a wink.

She looked at me angrily and said, “Come.”

Their house had two sections: a public side for guests and business, and a
private side where we were.
We toured the house and finally reached Iqra’s room. She said, “Come, let me
show you my room.”

It looked like a hotel room—clean, elegant, and beautifully furnished.

Since we had privacy, I quickly held her hand and pulled her into a hug. She
embraced me back—we both forgot the world existed.

After a long hug, I kissed her forehead and said,

“Kashi: I must have done something good in life to deserve a girl like you.”

Her eyes welled up, and she whispered,

Iqra: “I think the same. Allah must’ve loved something about me to give me
such a wonderful lover. I don’t even want to lose you in my dreams. When
you’re near, I want time to stop. You’ve brought life back to me.”

Hearing that, I was deeply moved and said,

“I promise, from today, I’ll never leave you. As long as I live, I’ll stay faithful.”

I kissed her eyes, then gently leaned forward…

Just then, we heard a knock. Aunty was at the door, with tears in her eyes.

Seeing her, Iqra rushed to the bed and buried her face in the pillow.

I stood silently, head lowered.

Aunty entered and said,

“This is how you show a guest around the house?”

Then she laughed and said, “I didn’t know my daughter loved you this much.”

She blessed us and said, “Now go downstairs, serve him tea, and say goodbye.”

Iqra went to make tea. I sat with Aunty, who looked calm and peaceful.

She said,

“Do you know why no one else is home? When Nini told me about you, we were
shocked. I spoke to her father. He asked Zunaira to look into you, and we
decided I should meet you. And now, we all agree—you’re perfect for Iqra.
Please tell your parents soon.”

I said, “Thank you, Aunty. Not every parent is like you—you’re an inspiration.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Zunaira and Saleha entered, out of breath.

Aunty asked, “Why are you panting?”

They said, “We heard Kashif bhai was here—we just had to come!”

Aunty asked Saleha, “You know Kashif too?”

Saleha: “Aunty, I’m the reason these two got close in the first place!”

Aunty laughed, hit her playfully, and said, “Then hear this—I really like Kashi.
And Nini’s dad never says no to me. He’ll agree too. And Fahad loves his sister—
he won’t refuse.”

Hearing Fahad’s name, I saw a spark in Zunaira’s eyes and decided to ask her
later.
After tea, I got ready to leave, but my two messengers dragged me off for
another round of house-touring.

Zunaira joked, “So tell us, how did Nini look today all dressed up?”

I pretended to tease, “Honestly, not that special,” and winked.

They joined in, “Yeah, she’s not that pretty—you still have time to look
elsewhere!”

I turned to Zunaira and said, “How can I look elsewhere when someone else is
already watching someone else?”

She blushed, and I went over to Iqra. She had turned her back—clearly upset.

I made her face me—her eyes were teary.

I felt awful and wiped her tears.

She said, “Nothing’s wrong.”

I said, “I saw you listening to us. I was only teasing.”

She punched my stomach and said, “I’ve been planning for days what to wear
when you come, and you didn’t even compliment me!”

I realized I hadn’t praised her.

So I quickly said,

“You look so beautiful today that I’ve lost my senses. You seem like an angel
sent from heaven just for me.”
I’ve lost myself in you so much that I can’t even explain. And that light pink frock
you’re wearing—it feels like someone has wrapped the moon in more
moonlight. And your face shines so brightly, even the sun envies your glow. And
then there are your eyes—so deep and clear that no lake in the world can
compare. Anyone who looks into them once never craves wine again; their thirst
for life is quenched forever. And just as one gets lost in your eyes, your rose-like
lips appear—each of which could inspire poetry for centuries.

Those dimples on your cheeks—if someone falls into them, they’ll never find
another place more beautiful for the rest of their life. And the remaining years of
life feel worth spending imprisoned in your hair. I’d just say this: one lifetime
isn’t enough to describe you in words. I feel like I must be one of God’s chosen
ones, destined and accepted for someone like you.

Hearing all this, her eyes sparkled so intensely that I couldn’t hold back. I
hugged her and gave a kiss, dedicated solely to her eyes. Seeing this, both of
them were stunned—how could someone care so deeply for another person?

Saying this, I returned to Aunty, bid her goodbye, and headed home. I had
stayed there for almost six hours, but the time spent with Iqra—I’ve never been
able to forget even a moment of it till today.

When I got home, Mom scolded me for being late and for not helping Dad with
his work. Then I remembered: Dad had asked me last night to get the heater in
his room fixed since winter was approaching, and he wanted it ready in
advance. I quickly went to the market, got all the necessary parts, and since I
usually fixed such things myself, I repaired the heater quickly. Then I returned
my friend’s bike and headed to the mechanic for my own.

My bike still wasn’t fixed, so I borrowed my friend’s bike again. After dinner, I
went to my room, and Kashaf came in and stood there staring at me. I asked her
what was wrong, and she said, “So, how was your home-date?”

I was shocked. How did she know I had gone there? I asked her how she found
out. She replied, “Your vibe gave it away today. Plus, I did ask in the morning
where you were going, and you told me you were going to your bhabi’s house.”

Then I remembered—yes, I had told her myself.

I replied, “I never thought something like this could ever happen in my life. You
know what? Iqra’s mom told me she agrees and will convince her husband too.
She even told me to speak to my parents as well.”

Then I told her everything that happened there. She was really happy and said,
“Wow, that’s great news! You really did something big today. So, what’s your
plan? When will you tell Mom and Dad?”

I said, “Honestly, I had planned to tell Mom after Matric exams, but now I feel
like I should tell her sooner.”

She said, “That makes sense, but how will you tell her?”

I said, “Why do you think I told you all this?”

“I don’t get it,” she said, confused.

I said, “I planned to talk to Mom through you. But now I think we should get
Rameen Aapi and Apa Maimoona involved too.”

She said, “Oh, I see. If you say so, I can talk to Mom too.” (Actually, among all of
us siblings, Kashaf had the closest bond with Mom. Dad usually listened to me
once, but this matter was personal, and I hesitated to bring it up myself. I felt it
was too soon, even though I knew no one would misunderstand—I still felt
afraid.)

I said, “Okay, next Sunday Mom is going to Khala’s house. We’ll talk to her
before she leaves. You know, Iqra was brave enough to speak up this early—she
deserves appreciation. I don’t want her family to have even a single doubt from
my side.”

She said, “Alright, I’ll talk to Mom by tomorrow or the day after. But I have one
condition.”

I asked, “What condition?”

Kashaf replied, “Not now—I’ll tell you when the time comes. And you’ll have to
agree.”

I said, “Fair enough. Just please make sure the conversation happens. If it gets
too complicated, get Rameen Aapi involved—it’ll carry more weight.” She said
okay.

Nothing major happened after that. I went to school the next day. During recess,
I met Iqra. She seemed happier than usual.
I said, “MashaAllah, you look beautiful today, and that lovely smile—what’s the
matter?”

Naini said... (From now on, in our personal talks, I’ll refer to Iqra as Naini. In
front of my family, she’s Iqra.) “Actually, the reason I’m happy is you. Ever since
you left yesterday, my mom hasn’t stopped praising you. She keeps telling Dad
what a wonderful boy you are. She wants everything to move ahead quickly.
And those things you said in front of my friends—they haven’t stopped teasing
me about you since. One says I’m lucky; another says she wishes she was the
one in your dream.”

I laughed and said, “Well, that was bound to happen. I couldn’t stop myself
yesterday—you were so beautiful and so close. I lost control. And your mom...
she told me that if I can’t speak at home, she’ll talk to my mom herself.”

Naini: “Really? So have you talked to your parents yet?”

Kashif: “Not so fast. But I promise, I will this week.”

She was overjoyed to hear this. For the next few days, we kept discussing my
visit to her home. I kept checking with my sister about whether she had talked
to Mom yet.

Friday afternoon, I returned early from school. After prayer, I saw Mom talking to
Kashaf and Rameen Aapi. When they saw me, Mom looked at me carefully. I
sensed they were talking about me. I went to my room. Later, first Kashaf, then
Rameen Aapi came in.
What I felt then—I can't describe. With two sisters in front of me, and especially
since Rameen Aapi was older, I felt shy and scared about what they’d say. But
they weren’t harsh—just kept teasing me, saying, “The boy's ready for
marriage!” (in our home’s Saraiki dialect).

Then Rameen Aapi complained that I told Kashaf instead of her. This went on for
a while. Finally, I asked, “Alright, enough now. What did Mom say? Did she
misunderstand?”

Kashaf said, “I actually talked to Mom that day. She didn’t get it at first, but
when I explained Iqra’s condition and told her you’d met her mom and there
was no objection, Mom stayed silent. She didn’t respond. But today, with
Rameen Aapi’s help, I spoke to her again, and she gave a positive response.”

She said, “I can’t believe my child would take such a big step without including
me. I only want your happiness. And from what you’ve told me, it seems like
there is genuine connection between you two. I don’t want my son to end up in
the same state as Iqra. I’ll speak to Saadi’s father today and figure something
out. We’ll visit their house soon. I just have one complaint: I wish Kashif had told
me himself. But still, I’m glad he didn’t do anything wrong.”

She also said not to tell anyone else yet—especially my younger brother.

I was so relieved—maybe now my path would be clear. Only one thing

remained: telling Dad. Mom said she’d handle that. I couldn’t wait to share this
good news with Iqra.
Finally, evening came. After dinner, just as I was about to sleep, Mom came into
my room. I sat up. She sat beside me, stroked my head, and said:

“Kashif, what’s done is done, but I never expected this from you. I thought you
were innocent, raised well. But this step... it really upset me. I know people your
age go through this, but controlling yourself is important. Is this what I taught
you? Didn’t my upbringing mean anything? What you did doesn’t reflect a good
home. I’m really hurt to hear this about my son.”

Her words made me feel ashamed and upset. I thought, what have I done? My
mother is questioning her own upbringing because of me. I should’ve been the
proof of her success as a parent. I sat there silently, drowning in regret.

Noticing my sadness, she softened.

She said, “Son, I’m not saying you did something evil. Everyone has the right to
love and pursue what they like. I’m upset not because you liked someone, but
because you approached her in a reckless, immature way. And because of that,
she had to suffer.”

I replied, “I know it wasn’t the right way, but I truly like her. Even in her absence,
I only think of her. I’m ashamed I didn’t tell you earlier. I was scared you’d think
it was childish and dismiss it.”

Mom said, “Parents get upset, but they always consider their child’s happiness.
If you’d told me the first day, I would’ve supported you. I know how painful it is
not to get what you love. We faced that too in our childhood. I don’t want you to
go through the same.”
I hugged her. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was amazed at my mother’s wisdom.
Most mothers would object, try to force their choice. But mine respected mine,
showed me where I went wrong, and guided me. It was a huge lesson for me—
and I promised myself I’d do the same for my children.

After a while, Mom said, “Kashaf told me you’ve met Iqra’s mom, and she likes
you.”

I said, “Yes, Mom. That Sunday I told you I was going to a friend’s house—it was
actually their house. Her mom has no objection and wants to meet you soon.”

Mom said, “That’s good. I’ll speak to your father today. Once I know his opinion,
we’ll move forward. Just let Iqra’s mom know we’re ready to meet. Right now,
I’m going to Khala’s place, then to Maimoona’s. You know she’s expecting—
we’re hoping for good news soon. After I return, we’ll arrange the visit.”

Hearing that made me so happy. The path was clear—soon, Iqra would be my
life partner.

I said, “Yes, Mom, I know. I can’t wait for the good news from Maimoona Aapi
too.”

Then Mom left. That night, I couldn’t sleep from happiness. Early morning, I got
ready for school. Now that I was fine and could ride the bike, my parents
allowed it again.

At school, I waited near the parking area. For the past few days, Iqra (Naini) and I
always met in the morning. Her van arrived. As she and her friends got off,
Zunaira said, “Wow, you’ve been coming on time lately!” Then she and Saleha
walked off, and I was alone with Naini.

I pointed to a bench, and we sat down.

She said, “Kesh (she called me Kesh), you look so happy today.”

I said, “The news is so good, even you’ll be happy. Want to hear?”

She said, “Of course—tell me!”

I said, “I talked to my mom last night. She’s agreed, and she wants to meet your
mom soon.”

Hearing that, she hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Really? That’s
amazing. I was so tense, wondering if your family would even agree.”

Then she asked me to tell her everything—how the conversation went, what
Mom said.

I told her everything—how I involved Kashaf first, then finally opened up to

Mom.

She was overwhelmed with happiness. Her eyes filled with joy. I wiped her tears,
we hugged again, and just then the school bell rang. We went our separate
ways...

The next day, I dropped Mom off at the bus stand and planned to return after
dropping her at Khala’s house.
It was a six-hour journey. As soon as we arrived, I met Areeba first—and
memories flooded back. How I had made promises to her. Maybe she was still
holding on to them.

The joy on her face seeing me—I can’t describe it. It felt like I had become the
sole purpose of her life.

I greeted her, then Khala, then everyone else. After greetings, I went to sleep.
Around 8 PM, I woke up feeling like someone was gently touching my face. I
opened my eyes slightly and saw Areeba standing beside me, stroking my hair.

Startled, I sat up suddenly. She got nervous and quickly said, “Mom’s calling
you for dinner. I’ve been trying to wake you.”

I quietly got up, went to the washroom. When I returned, she had left. I went
downstairs and joined the family at the dinner table. Afterward, my younger
cousins insisted we go out for ice cream.

Uncle said, “Go ahead—it’ll make them happy.”

We walked to the nearby market, went into a parlor, sat at a table. Areeba
deliberately sat next to me. Everyone ordered their favorite flavors.

I knew since childhood that Areeba loved chocolate, but today, she picked my
favorite—coffee and vanilla mix. That was a red flag for me.

As we ate, I felt a tap on my shoulder, then my back. It was Areeba. She signaled
me to pass her a tissue. I discreetly handed it to her and resumed eating.
Areeba said, “Kashif, this flavor was amazing. I tried it for the first time and
loved it. I ate it so fast. Can I have a spoon from yours?”

Before I could say anything, her younger sister spoke up: “Didn’t Mom tell you
not to ask others for food? If you want more, order your own. Let Kashif bhai eat
in peace.”

Areeba said, “I know, Saku (we called her Saku). But I only want one spoon—
not the whole thing. That’s why I asked Kashif.”

Saku replied, “If that’s the case, then I want a spoon too. I want to try it.”

Then everyone chimed in—they all wanted a spoon. I just sighed. That’s what I
got for eating quietly. They devoured my ice cream as I watched helplessly.

We returned home. The adults’ gathering had also ended, and everyone headed
to bed. I lay down, then suddenly remembered the tissue Iqra had given me.

I quietly got up, went to the washroom—since Mom and a cousin were sleeping
in the room. I took out the tissue. Inside was a folded paper, like a letter.

I opened it and began reading... What was written made my hair stand on end. It
scared me deeply—about the future of my love...

It said something like this:

"Hello Kashif, how are you? I was so happy you came to our home. I miss you so
much and I always think about you, no matter what I’m doing. I’m just waiting
for the day you finally make me yours. You know, I’ve even spoken to my mother
about it, and she’s ready for it too. She said that when you go there to study
next year, she’ll speak to your aunt and get everything settled between you two.
Just don’t turn away now, okay?

Bye... Areeba Kashif!"

Reading this hit me like a shock. What had I done? How could I make such a
mistake? I had never even imagined something like this. What if my mother
listens to my aunt and ends up making some decision like that for me? I kept
thinking about it the whole night. I couldn’t sleep either, as I had already slept
during the day.

In the morning, I quickly got up and went straight to my mother. I took her aside
and told her the entire story because I didn’t want any issues later on.

When I spoke to my mother, she told me,

"I was actually thinking of talking to you about this too. Last night, your aunt
spoke to me privately. She said that Areeba likes you and she’s hopeful from
your side as well."

I said,

"Actually, Mom, the thing is... last time when I came, I had met Iqra. But I didn’t
know Areeba would go this far. That day I just told her to stay quiet and said that
I’m not into these things right now and I’m focusing on my studies. I told her she
should focus too. I did say that these things are for the future... and yes, I do like
her."

Mom said,
"Then tell me now, what do you want?"

I said,

"Mom, I’ve already told you I can’t even think of anyone other than Iqra. I want
you to somehow explain this to auntie too—that I like someone else and all of
you are also okay with it. And if Iqra isn’t possible, then I’ll go with whatever you
decide. But if you really want my happiness, then it’s only with Iqra."

Mom replied,

"Alright, as you wish. I really like Areeba. I had hoped she would become my
daughter-in-law. But what can we do now? You’re my son, and from what
you've told me about Iqra, it seems like she loves you more than herself. If
you’re not in her destiny, that would be an injustice to her—and then, what will
we say to God in the next world?"

Hearing this, I was overjoyed. I hugged my mother, and my eyes welled up with
tears. I had feared that she might force me into something because of her sister,
but she said the exact opposite—something that supported me.

After that, I had breakfast and left for the bus stand.

Now I was at peace, knowing Mom would take care of everything.

I got on the bus and headed home. After about six hours of travel, I reached
home.
Since I hadn’t gone to school that day, I thought of meeting a friend I hadn’t
seen in a long time. He had moved to another city but had just returned. So I
went to see him.

I came back in the evening and had just sat down when Dad called me and said,
“Come with me.”

I got up and went with him.

A short distance later, Dad said, “Kashi, son, I need to talk to you.”

I said, “Yes, Dad, go ahead.”

He said, “I met Mr. Shafiq yesterday. He wants to marry his son to your sister
Rameen, and I’m thinking of agreeing. What’s your opinion? You know the boy,
right?”

(Mr. Shafiq’s son was actually the same friend I had gone to meet earlier that
day—his name was Amir. I personally liked him too, and had been thinking the
same for a while. Not only was Amir a great guy, but we also had a good
relationship with Mr. Shafiq’s family.)

I replied,

“Dad, Amir is a really good guy. I know him closely, and I have no objection. I
just have one request—that you ask Rameen Apa first if she’s okay with it, or if
she likes someone else.”

Dad responded,
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. We’ll talk to Rameen first, then move
ahead. For now, I just wanted to know about the boy’s character.”

I said,

“I’m fully confident he’s a great match for Rameen Apa. He has no bad habits.”

Dad replied,

“Alright, let’s talk when your mom gets home.”

As we walked, we reached a nearby park. Dad went inside and said, “It’s
evening—let’s walk a little.”

After about half an hour, we both sat on a bench.

Dad said,

“Kashi, your mom was saying that you like a girl. Is that true?”

I first looked at his face to check for any signs of anger.

Seeing him calm reassured me. Actually, I’m really afraid of Dad—as I should
be. But now he’d brought it up directly, which surprised me. Once I felt
confident, I said,

“Dad, actually... yes, it’s true. I like a girl, and I’m thinking of marrying her.”

Dad looked a bit surprised,

“Since when? Do you know her well? Where is she from? Does she like you too?”

I said,
“Yes, Dad. She likes me too. I know her from school.”

And then I told Dad my story in a sincere way and also mentioned meeting
Naini’s mother.

Dad said,

“Alright, son, if that’s what you want, we’ll meet them once your mom comes
back and see how things go from there.”

Hearing this, I happily hugged Dad. Then we returned home.

After dinner, I went to sleep. I was tired from the journey, and I also had school
the next day. Two whole days had passed since I last saw my beloved—and
those two days felt no less than two centuries to me.

In the morning, I got ready and headed to school. Now that I had a bike, there
was no issue of waiting for anyone or making someone wait—I could go
whenever I wanted.

I parked the bike and waited for Naini, but I didn’t realize her van had already
arrived and she was inside. After a long wait, I assumed the van was late and
decided to head into school since class time had also started.

When I reached the classroom, the teacher had already arrived and was
announcing a test. I quickly sat down and pulled out my paper and pencil to
prepare. Just then, I saw a classmate who also came in Iqra’s van. Seeing him
confirmed the van had already arrived—I had just been late.
Anyway, I gave the test, attended the rest of the classes, and was now waiting
for recess.

Finally, the bell rang, and we were free. I went straight to my usual table in the
canteen. Now I just needed someone to deliver a message to Naini.

Soon I saw Saleha, and she went off to deliver my message.

A short while later, Naini arrived, and we all went outside to the ground. But
since it was crowded, we headed toward the parking lot. Unfortunately, even
there the guard was standing, so we quietly returned to the canteen and started
chatting.

I explained why I hadn’t come the day before and had already signaled Saleha
to leave. Once she left, Naini and I sat closer to each other. Being a public space,
we didn’t get too close—but still, we were sitting intimately.

Then I turned to Naini and said,

“Hey, want to hear something interesting?”

She said, “Yes yes, Kash, tell me!”

I said,

“Yesterday, Dad called me and asked about you.”

Naini said, shocked, “What are you saying? Even your dad knows about us now?
Then what happened—what was his reaction?”

I said,
“Actually, he values me. He just wanted to hear from me whether it was true.
Since I’d already told Mom everything, I wasn’t scared anymore, and I spoke
directly with Dad. He was pretty satisfied with my honesty and has decided to
handle things once Mom returns. Oh, and by the way, your dad already knows
my father.”

(Actually, my dad and Bashir uncle work in the same market. His business is
agriculture, and he’s a farmer too. Because of tractors and such, he knows my
dad well.)

She said,

“That’s great news!”

I said,

“Yeah, once Mom returns, everything will be fine.”

As soon as I mentioned Mom, I remembered Areeba... and started wondering

whether I should tell Iqra about her.

Then I told myself: not yet—let me wait a few days. Once Mom returns and
things are settled, I’ll tell her then.

After that, we talked about random loving things and parted ways as the next
class was about to begin.

School ended and I returned home. Since it gets crowded at dismissal time, I
didn’t meet Iqra then.
Days went by like that, and around fifteen days later, we found out that
Maimoona Api had given birth to a baby boy, and mom was already there. We all
decided to go too. So, I, Rameen Api, Kashaf, and Saadi set off with the driver
toward Maimoona Api’s house.

Although Rameen Api could drive, since it was a long journey, dad suggested
taking the driver along. Dad himself didn’t go because someone had to stay at
home, and also because it was his business season. That’s why he stayed
behind.

When we reached, we first went to the hospital to see our nephew. As soon as
we arrived, I was the first to hold him in my arms. He was a beautiful and
innocent little baby, and I couldn’t hold back my tears of joy. Since others were
waiting for their turn, I handed the baby over to Rameen and went to meet
Maimoona Api.

After spending quite a while at the hospital, everyone was thinking about going
home. Since mom had been there since last night, we told her and Maimoona
Api’s mother-in-law to go home. Rameen Api and I would stay back for now.
They agreed.

Later, Maimoona Api called me and said, “Kashi, you’ve grown up so quickly…”

I looked at her and asked, “What do you mean?”

She said, “Look at you—you’ve grown so much, chosen a girl for yourself, and
even met her mother.”

Hearing this, I looked down in embarrassment while my sisters burst into

laughter.

Then I turned to Rameen Api, who was laughing, and said, “Don’t smile too
much, Api. I have good news for you too.”

She looked at me in surprise.

I said, “Dad was telling me that it’s about time Rameen gets married. He asked
me if I know any good boy.” Then I grabbed my collar dramatically and said,
“Maimoona Api, you were saying I’ve grown up, see now even dad is taking my
advice.”

Now it was Rameen Api’s turn to be shy, and she looked at me with mock anger.

To change the topic, Maimoona Api asked, “So tell me Kashi, how did all this
happen? How did you like that girl, and how did you manage everything without
telling anyone?”

I said, “Api, matters of the heart can’t be explained easily.” Then I told her the
dream story.

Hearing it, she said, “Wow, your story is just like the movies. I thought it
happened recently, but it’s been three years?”

Then Rameen Api added, “You know, instead of telling me, he told Kashaf about
Iqra. And he even introduced her to Kashaf.”

Then I told Maimoona Api about Iqra’s illness, and she got worried after hearing
it.

Nothing significant happened after that. In the evening, Api was discharged
from the hospital, and we all returned home.

After dinner, I asked mom, “What are your plans now?”

She said, “Son, I’ll stay here for a few more days and then return.”

I said, “Okay mom, we’re planning to leave tomorrow evening because I have
classes, and exams are coming up, so I need to prepare.”

She said okay, and then nothing else major happened.

The next day, just as we were about to leave, my aunt and her family came to
see Maimoona Api’s baby. Since we were already ready, we just met them
briefly and left for home.
From the next day, it was back to the same routine—meeting Iqra at school,
then coming home and studying.

Ten days later, mom returned. I had gone to pick her up at the station. A while
later, she arrived—along with someone else. It was Areeba. I got a bit tense and
quietly brought them home.

Once home, I went straight to my room. A little while later, I got ready and went
to a friend’s place because I didn’t want to face Areeba.

After spending time there, I aimlessly roamed around outside. Around Asr time, I
returned home.

Tea was ready. I asked Kashaf to bring me a cup. I was thinking about making
her my confidante so I’d have someone on my side when the time came.

While I was in my room, Kashaf brought tea—but also two extra cups. With her
came Areeba, which I didn’t like. So the moment they entered, I said, “Oh yes,
Kashaf, I just remembered Zahid asked me for a book—I’ll go give it to him.”

And I left.

I didn’t even look at Areeba, not because I hated her, but because seeing her
face made me feel helpless.

Later, I returned home quite late, so I went to my room and started studying
because exams were near.

Two hours later, Saadi came to call me for dinner. I went down, ate, and came
back to my room. A while later, mom entered and sat on the bed.

I looked at her, and she said, “Kashi, do you remember what you told me before
I left for your aunt’s?”

“Yes mom, I’ve been waiting for you to return so we could talk to dad. By the
way, did you mention it to him before leaving?”
She said, “Yes, I told him to look into the girl’s family where you’ve chosen
someone.”

I said, “Oh, that’s why he was asking me and talking to me about it. When I told
him about Basheer Awan, he was surprised because he already knew him—
they’ve done business together. Uncle Basheer is a landlord and into
agriculture, and we’re in agricultural machinery.”

She said, “That’s great. It will help us explain to everyone that your father chose
this match because Mr. Basheer is his friend.”

I was surprised by her wording and asked, “Why did you say it like that—to tell
people?”

She said, “Son, the thing is, people aren’t that open-minded. In situations like
this, they talk, and those talks force us into tough decisions. I don’t want
anything like that to happen that could become a problem for us.”

Hearing her made everything clear. Even if my parents were supportive,

extended family could create issues—especially for Iqra. She would be the one
facing the taunts.

I was happy that mom not only cared about my choice but also didn’t want Iqra
to suffer because of us.

I said, “Mom, it’s really great that dad already knows Uncle Basheer.”

She replied, “Yes, it truly is.”

Then I remembered something else and said, “By the way, mom, how did
Areeba end up here? Did you tell aunt that we’re finalizing Kashaf’s match
somewhere else?”

She replied, “Oh yes, Areeba came because she’s planning to study here next
year and wanted to adjust herself a bit. And yes, thankfully, I told your aunt that
your dad is considering the daughter of a friend for your match. I also told her
we’ve met the girl and we’re all happy, and you’ve agreed too.”
I said, “That’s great, mom. That should avoid any issues from their side. By the
way, how did she react?”

She said, “At first, she was a bit surprised. She said everything’s happening so
fast. Then she told me she had hoped to make Kashif her son-in-law and that
Areeba liked you too, but she had no problem with our decision. She was happy
her nephew was getting engaged.”

After hearing all that, I felt fully relieved that there would be no issues from my
aunt’s side anymore. The only thorn left was Areeba. I just hoped she didn’t do
anything drastic that could ruin everything.

(Here I want to mention: in our family, early marriages are preferred. They
believe it helps keep life on track, keeps kids away from bad habits, and since
they have children early, the parents have support sooner. Their children grow
up in their youth and help them, and eventually become independent. My father
was 20 when he married, and my mother was the same age.)

A while later, mom said, “Oh yes, I forgot why I came here in the first place…”

I said, “Yes mom, tell me.”

She said, “Actually, I was thinking of meeting Iqra’s mother first—alone—and

then later we can all go with your dad.”

I said, “Alright, I’ll talk to Iqra tomorrow and arrange a time for your meeting.”

She said, “Okay, now go study. And another thing—I’ll ask your dad to get you a
mobile phone tomorrow. It’s necessary now, especially since you go to school
on a bike. If there’s a problem, we should be able to contact you.”

I said, “Sure mom, whatever you think is right.”

Hearing that made me happy—and a little surprised. When I was in matric, dad
had wanted to give me a phone, but mom had refused, saying it would distract
me. That’s how moms are. But now that I was already "spoiled," she probably
thought a phone wouldn’t do any more damage.
Then she left, and I went back to studying. But soon I remembered—I had to
talk to Areeba. That thought made me anxious again. So I decided to bring
Kashaf into this, maybe she could suggest something.

I went to her room and knocked.

From inside came her voice: “Come in, Saadi. I’m free now—I’ll explain that
math topic to you.”

I went in. Inside, I saw both Kashaf and Areeba sitting and talking. I didn’t find it
odd—they were the same age, and Areeba, being a guest, was staying in
Kashaf’s room. There wasn’t any separate room arranged for her.

I approached them, and Kashaf looked at me questioningly.

I said, “What? I can’t come here?”

Kashaf replied, “No no, it’s just that you’ve never come at this hour before.”

I said, “Actually, I have a headache and thought I’d ask you to make some tea.
Also, I missed the evening tea.” (Truthfully, seeing Areeba, I thought maybe I
should talk to her right here. So I used the tea excuse.)

Kashaf said, “Okay bhai, I’ll make it.”

But then Areeba said, “You stay, Muni—I’ll make tea for Kashif.” (Muni was
Kashaf’s nickname given by a village aunt.)

She left to make tea. I thought it was good; now I could talk to Kashaf.

As soon as she left, I said, “Kashaf, actually I didn’t come here just for tea. I need
to tell you something and ask your advice.”

Her face lit up hearing the word “advice” like she felt important.

She said, “Yes bhai, go ahead.”

I said, “Listen carefully to what I’m going to say and then tell me what I should
do.”
She nodded.

Then I told her everything about Areeba.

Her face turned serious. After a pause, she said, “How did this happen? And how
could you do this to her? Poor girl must be waiting for you.”

I told her what mom and I had discussed today.

Then she said, “So Areeba really loves you? And you told her you liked her just
to avoid hurting her?”

I said, “Yes, she wasn’t in a good state back then, and I couldn’t say anything
else. I just said what felt right at the time. Now you tell me what to do.”

She said, “I think you should talk to her clearly. Tell her your match is fixed
elsewhere and you can’t continue with her.”

Just then we heard the door. Areeba came in with tea. We went silent and
started drinking.

The tea was really good—maybe because of me.

Kashaf said, “Give me the empty cups, I’ll put them away.”

Areeba said, “No, I’ll do it.”

Kashaf replied, “You’re our guest; we can’t let you do that.” Then she left, giving
me a sign to talk.

I turned to Areeba.

“So, how are you? How’s your studying going?”

She replied, “I’m fine, Kashif, and studies are going well too.”

Then I said, “Actually, I need to talk to you about something.”

Her expression changed. “Yes, go ahead.”

I said, “Do you remember what I told you when I came to visit your place during
vacation?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I want to talk about that. That day I told you I had feelings for someone else
too.”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Well, the thing is, I love that girl very much. She loves me too. That’s why we
decided to get engaged. Things have progressed now—our families are
involved. I want to apologize. I only said I liked you back then to avoid hurting
you. But I do care for you.”

She didn’t react—almost as if she had expected this.

I was shocked.

Then Areeba said, “I knew something like this would happen. When you didn’t
reply to my letter, I was sure. And after seeing your coldness here, I knew it was
over. My mom had already told me before coming here that your engagement
was being fixed. So I’m not surprised. You’ve found your love.”

Her eyes were moist. She looked shattered.

I stared at her in disbelief. I hadn’t expected such maturity from her.

After a pause, she said, “You are still just as dear to me as you were that day. I
just want to see you happy. Don’t worry—I won’t cause any problems for you.”

Her words left me shaken. The girl who once chased me was now walking away
like nothing had happened. I stared at her for a long time, then went to my
room, lay on the bed, and started thinking about her.

I fell asleep thinking, and in the morning, I felt fresh—because now, nothing
could separate me from Neni.
I got ready, headed to school, and sat on the same bench at my usual spot,
waiting for Neni

A few moments later, I saw her van arriving, and I felt happy. All three girls came
toward me; Zunaira and Saleha greeted me with a "Hello" and then walked
away. I made Naini sit beside me and pulled her close. I was so lost in her that
even a single day of separation started to eat me up, and it seemed she felt the
same. After staying in each other’s embrace for quite a while, we finally let go,
and I began to speak:

“Kashi... Naini, do you know I can't even get through a single day without you?
You're always on my mind—there’s not a single moment when I'm not thinking
of you. Whenever I close my eyes, your beautiful and innocent face appears
before me, and I get lost in it. Your eyes have captured me to such an extent that
now I want to lose myself in the depths of their darkness.”

Hearing this, she looked at me lovingly, and her eyes started to sparkle like
pearls. Then she pulled me close and started kissing my face. I gently pushed
her away. She said:

"Kashi, you have no idea how restless I was when you were away. It felt like
someone was constantly stabbing my heart. And do you think you're the only
one who loves the other? I love you so much that if you ever ask me to give up
my life for your happiness, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second. If you don’t believe
me, test me."

Hearing her talk about dying upset me, and I pressed my lips to hers.

And that’s how we had our first kiss.

“Kashi… this is the first and last time I want to hear anything about dying from
you. Hearing that shook me to my core. I felt like hurting myself in that moment.
But I promise you, as long as I’m around, no harm will ever come to you. I still
regret the pain you’ve had to endure because of me.”
We hugged again, and I kissed her lips once more. We were still lost in that
moment when the bell for prayer rang, and we separated. As she walked away, I
told her, “Listen, meet me during recess today. I have something important to
tell you.”

She replied, “Alright.”

We headed to school, and time passed as classes continued. Just before the
period before recess, our principal entered the classroom, accompanied by a
few men dressed formally.

The principal began, “Class, this is Mr. Iqbal Malik,” pointing to one of the men.
“He’s an old friend of mine. We studied together until matriculation and even
sat on the same bench. Since our school offers education only up to matric, I
thought it would be good to introduce you all. He’s a well-known teacher in our
area, and his college provides education from matric to BSc and other
programs.”

I understood that the principal was introducing these college representatives to

us in hopes that students would later join their college. It was essentially
marketing. I had no interest in these matters, so I didn’t pay attention to what
was being said next.

But a new fear crept into my heart: how would I meet Iqra in the future? She was
still in ninth grade and would remain at this school for another year. I began to
think about my own future too. Lost in these thoughts, the period passed, and I
went to the canteen.

A little while later, Iqra joined me. Seeing her brought me peace because her
face was glowing with happiness. I had a feeling it was because of our morning
conversation, but I still asked.

“Kashi… you look really happy today, Naini. What's the reason?”

“I’m very happy,” she said.

“Any special reason?”

“Well, you’re with me. What could be more special than that?” she replied shyly.

Her words and tone melted my heart, and I playfully grabbed her cheeks, which
I quickly let go of. Then we ordered samosas, and Saleha and the others joined
us.

After eating, I signaled to Saleha to leave, and she did.

Then I said to Iqra, “Naini, listen…”

“Yes?” she said, looking at me.

“I just wanted to tell you that my mother wants to meet your mom first, and
then later we’ll formally come to your house with a proposal.”

She said, “That’s good. My mother wanted the same—to meet your mother first
so they could get to know each other before moving forward.”

“Great,” I said. “Then I’m thinking I should bring my mother over to your place
this weekend.”

She replied, “Actually, we have a family gathering this Sunday, so it might be

difficult. Let’s pick another day before then. I’ll talk to my mom and let you
know tomorrow.”

“Alright,” I said.

Then I asked, “Who in your house has a phone?”

She replied, “My mom and dad have one, and there’s one at home that Fahad
and I use. Why are you asking?”

“Well,” I said, “my mom was saying she’s getting me a phone today because I
really need one now. I thought once I have it, we can talk even after school.”

She got really happy hearing this, and recess ended. We went back to class.
Nothing special happened later. With exams only three months away, we had an
extra period after school in which we gave practice tests. These helped us
prepare well, but it also meant I couldn't meet Naini after school anymore.

Anyway, I went home and told my mother everything we had discussed. She was
ready to meet Iqra’s mom.

Then I reminded her about the phone.

She said, “Yes, I spoke to your father. He told me to send you to his office after
school, and you’ll get the phone from there.”

“Okay, Ammi,” I said.

About half an hour later, I got ready and headed to my father's office. When I
reached there, I saw a man sitting with him who looked oddly familiar.

I went in, greeted both of them, and sat down. My father said, “Here comes
Kaashi, Mr. Bashir.”

As soon as I heard the name Bashir, I realized this man was Iqra’s father. I had
never seen him before, so I didn’t recognize him earlier.

Mr. Bashir said, “So, young Kashif is here. Do you recognize me, son?”

“Yes, Uncle,” I replied with a smile, though I tried hard to read his expression
and saw nothing but a smile.

He said, “Good you recognized me, or that would’ve been trouble,” and then
both he and my dad laughed.

I didn’t understand the joke, so I stayed silent.

Tea arrived, and we had it together. Afterward, my dad said, “Come on, Kaashi,
let’s go buy your phone.”

Mr. Bashir offered, “Sikandar Sahib, sit down. I’ll take him myself. My brother-
in-law owns a nearby mobile shop. We’ll get a good phone from there.”
Since I had brought my bike, he said, “Let’s go on your bike.”

As we rode off, Mr. Bashir said, “Kaashi, there’s something I wanted to tell you
which I couldn’t say in front of your father.”

“Of course, Uncle. Go ahead.”

“Well,” he began, “what’s done is done. Whatever God wills, happens. But I
want one promise from you and one request. Never let anything hurt my
daughter—she’s very dear to us and has become emotionally fragile. She won’t
be able to bear any big shocks.”

“Uncle, what are you saying?” I said. “Iqra is as precious to me as she is to you.
You don’t need to request anything. You have every right to guide me. I assure
you, she won’t be leaving her home—she’s simply moving from one home to
another. And you’ll see with time how well I care for her.”

He placed his hand on my head and said, “That’s what I hoped to hear. Your
parents have raised you well. I have no worries—my daughter will be very
happy with you.”

We reached the shop. I chose a phone I liked, and when Mr. Bashir tried to pay, I
stopped him and paid myself.

“Consider it a gift from me,” he said.

“No, Uncle. You can give me a gift some other time. Let me pay today,” I replied.

He agreed. We returned to my dad’s office.

A little later, Mr. Bashir said, “So, Sikandar Sahib, when are you coming to our
place? When I found out Kashif is your son, I immediately agreed to the match. I
know your integrity firsthand, and your father was a great man—may Allah
bless his grave.”

(My grandfather used to head a welfare organization in our area, which my uncle
now leads.)
My dad said, “Yes, indeed. He was a great man. As for coming to your place, I
was thinking of coming the day after tomorrow since the market will be closed
due to maintenance.”

Just then, I signaled to my dad to pause.

He asked, “Yes, Kaashi, what is it?”

“Dad, can I speak with you privately?”

Once aside, I told him that Mom wanted to meet Iqra’s mom privately first,
before any formal proposal.

He said, “Alright, I’ll delay things for now.”

Back at his seat, Dad said, “Actually, I just remembered—my elder daughter
recently had a baby boy, and everyone else has visited but I haven’t. I was
planning to go that day. Let’s make the visit some other time.”

Mr. Bashir replied, “Congratulations on becoming a grandfather! You should

definitely go. Anyway, we’re busy this Sunday too. Let’s pick another day next
week.”

Dad said, “Thank you! I’ll consult with my wife and let you know.”

Then he told me, “Kaashi, go drop Uncle to the car. And Mr. Bashir, I’ll have your
package delivered to your farm by evening.”

Uncle stood up, blessed me by placing his hand on my head, and left. I too said
goodbye to Dad and rode home, happy because I now had my own personal
phone.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t use a phone before—there was one at home that I
mostly used—but still, having your own phone is something else. On the way, I
bought sweets, knowing my siblings would expect a treat.

When I got home, I found out Mom had already told everyone I was getting a
new phone. Everyone gathered around, asking to see it and demanding a treat. I
quickly handed over the cake and sweets and went to my room. I always
showered after school, but today I hadn’t, so I freshened up.

Meanwhile, everyone was busy enjoying the sweets.

I had brought two boxes—one for home and one for my uncle’s family. Since
they lived next door and we shared a courtyard, we always included them in
such celebrations.

I went over to give them the sweets. After returning, I sat down to study. Exams
were coming, and stress was building.

After 3–4 hours of study, I asked Muni (formerly called Kashaf in the story) to
make tea, and I stepped out to meet a friend.

I went to Amir’s place, but he wasn’t home. So I sat in a small park nearby. I
wanted to be alone for a while, to reflect on what I was doing and whether it was
right.

Everything seemed clear now about making Iqra mine—but suddenly, Areeba
popped into my mind. Remembering her made me sad. How was I leaving her
halfway like this, and she was quietly accepting it?

For the next half hour, I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t done anything
wrong. I had told her everything beforehand. But my heart still felt uneasy.

After Maghrib, I headed home, quiet and a little down. Muni noticed and asked:

Muni: “What’s wrong? Why do you look like someone’s beaten you?”

Kashi: “Nothing really. Just a little worried.”

Muni: “Why?”

Kashi: “I don’t know… ever since things started getting serious with Iqra, I’ve
been feeling guilty about Areeba, like I’m doing something wrong to her.”
Muni: “Don’t stress about that. In the end, someone was bound to end up alone.
It’s fate that loneliness fell on Areeba, and she’s strong enough now to handle it.
So stop torturing yourself.”

Her reassurance helped a little, but didn’t completely ease my heart. So I

thought I’d talk to Areeba, apologize, and try to lighten the burden inside me…

Even during dinner, I remained sad and quiet, didn’t speak much. Then I went to
my room and started studying. Eventually, I fell asleep while reading, quite late
into the night.

When I woke up in the morning, I quickly got ready and headed to school. I was
especially eager today because I wanted to hear Iqra’s answer.

I sat on the same bench near the parking area, and soon Iqra and her friends
arrived. After greeting all three of them, I turned to Iqra and said:

“Kashi... Neni, my love, how are you?”

Neni replied, “I’m fine, Kashi. But each moment without you feels painfully long
now…”

I held her close and said, “My love, even this separation has its charm — this
longing for each other every day, and then the joy and peace we feel when we
finally meet… it’s like an addiction. I only pray to God that you always stay this
close to me, and I can resolve any problem that comes your way before it even
gets to you.”

She melted into me, kissed my lips, and said, “I’m now only waiting for the day
when we become one, and I can fully, forever, surrender myself to you.”

We kept having such conversations, then I remembered I hadn’t done the task
Mom had given me.

I said, “Neni! Did you talk to your mom about what I asked you yesterday?”
She replied, “Yes, I spoke to her. She agreed. She also told me to tell you that
you should come on Wednesday, along with your mother, to our house.”

I said, “Alright then, we’ll come to your place tomorrow.”

“Be ready,” I added with a smile.

She blushed a little, then suddenly remembered something. Slapping her

forehead, she said, “Oh yes, Kashi! You told me yesterday that you’re getting a
new phone, but you didn’t show it to me. What’s that about?”

I remembered too.

I quickly pulled the phone out of my pocket and handed it to her.

She looked at it in surprise and asked, “Where did you get this from?”

I said, “I don’t really know. One of my dad’s friends came over, and he took me
to a shop. We got it from there.”

She asked, “Was that shop called ‘Atif PC Hall’ by any chance?”

“Yes, that was the name. Why?” I replied.

She said, “Actually, that shop belongs to our cousin. We bought the same model
from there recently. It’s a very popular phone, and it’s only available at their
store in the whole market.”

I said, “Want me to tell you something?”

“Sure, tell me.”

“Do you know which friend of my dad took me to get the phone yesterday?”

“Who?”

“It was none other than your dad, Bashir Uncle. He chose this phone for me.”

She looked surprised and said, “I knew your dad knew my dad, but I didn’t
know they were this close!”
Just then, the school bell rang, and we both went off to our respective sections.

That day passed just like that. I returned home from school and told Mom that
Iqra’s family is ready to meet us tomorrow.

Mom replied, “Alright, son.”

My mood always dropped when I saw Areeba at home — and the same thing
happened again today.

Areeba had now figured this out. I went to my room after talking to Mom and fell
asleep. After about two hours, I woke up to find that Uncle Rashid Ahmed had
come over (the one I told you about who handles our grandfather’s business).

Here’s an intro to their family:

Rashid Ahmed – my uncle, whom we all call Abaji

Ruqaiya Khan – our aunt

Qasim and Salman – their two elder sons, both married and living abroad

Hala Noor – their elder daughter, also married and living abroad

Dua Noor – their younger daughter, my age, currently studying in 10th grade

Uncle Rashid is involved in politics and also runs a family business.

I greeted Abaji and sat with him for a while. After exchanging pleasantries, he
asked, “So Kaashi, how are you doing? How’s your education going?”

I said, “Abaji, I’m fine by the grace of Allah. I’m in 10th grade now, and my
exams are coming up.”

He said, “MashAllah, study well and aim high.”

Then he asked, “What are your plans for the future?”

What could I tell him? I only wanted Iqra in my life…

But I replied, “Abaji, I have two things in mind. Either I’ll go for CSS, or I’ll
pursue business studies and try to take our business to the next level.”

He said, “That’s a great plan. Work hard. What about the medical field?”

I said, “It’s a good profession, noble too. But I’m not particularly interested. I’ve
always leaned towards business.”

“Any specific reason?”

“Not really, Abaji. Maybe it’s in my blood. Watching my dad in business since
childhood, I developed a passion for it.”

He said, “Good, son. You’re very sensible. You’ll surely be successful.”

I said, “I just need your prayers, Abaji.”

At this, I noticed Muni looking at me and silently laughing.

I instantly understood why. See, Dua Hareem, Abaji’s daughter, is the same age
as me and also in 10th grade. We used to play together as kids, and she was
always my play partner. That’s why Muni found my “need your prayers”
comment amusing.

Later, Abaji left, and only Muni and Areeba remained at home. Mom and sister
Rameen had gone shopping for gifts, as they were visiting Iqra’s family the next
day.

I went to my room to study. After a while, both Muni and Areeba came in. I
relaxed, and then Muni said, “Bhai, I’ll go check the kitchen. Mom gave me some
chores.”

After she left, Areeba spoke.

“Kashif, what’s going on? Why are you acting like you’re upset with me? Did I do
something wrong?”

I said, “It’s nothing. I’m not upset with you, nor is there a problem. I just...”
She said, “That can’t be. There’s clearly something wrong. Maybe I can help.”

I replied, “Honestly, when I see you, I feel like I’ve wronged you. Your face
makes me feel guilty.”

She was quiet for a while and then said, “I knew it was something like this. But I
promise, it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’ve come to terms with it. I swear, your
happiness is my happiness. Don’t worry about me. I know you love that girl —
and she surely loves you too. You don’t need to stay sad because of me.”

I listened to her and admired her strength — what a big heart she has.

I said, “I was only afraid that you might take some drastic step. That’s why I’ve
been so stressed these past few days.”

She replied again, “Kashif, believe me, I won’t do anything like that. You don’t
have to worry about me.”

Then she left.

I finally felt some relief and went back to studying. Mom and Rameen returned
around Isha.

After dinner, I sat to study again. Half an hour later, Mom came in.

“Kaashi beta, I’m feeling a bit uneasy. I don’t know what kind of people they
are, what they might be thinking...”

I said, “Don’t worry, Mom. They’re good people, and their mindset is just like
ours.”

Then I asked, “Will you and Rameen go alone tomorrow or should I come too?”

Mom said, “I think you should come since you’ve already been to their house.”

“Okay then,” I said. “I’ll get the car ready. And by the way, what gifts did you
get?”
Mom replied, “Well, I couldn’t think of much, so I decided to gift Iqra a golden
locket. Rameen bought a ring for her as well. As for her mother, we’ll get
something later after we meet and get to know her likes and dislikes.”

I said, “That’s a good plan. And guess what? I also thought of giving something
to Iqra.”

Mom said, “That’s between you two. Do what you think is right.”

Then she left.

I lay down to rest and suddenly remembered I had a phone now — why not
contact Iqra?

So I messaged her “Hi,” and surprisingly, she replied quickly. I asked if I could
call, and she agreed.

We talked for about an hour. I began feeling sleepy, so I said goodbye and slept.

The next day, I didn’t go to school as we were visiting Iqra’s house later. I slept
in. Around 10 a.m., Mom woke me up. After breakfast, I went to get the car
ready.

When I returned, everyone was already ready. I quickly got dressed and
messaged Iqra that we were on our way.

Rameen drove. After about an hour, we reached their house. I got out first and
rang the bell.

Iqra’s mother answered, “Who is it?”

I replied, “Aunty, it’s Kashif Salar.”

She quickly opened the door.

They welcomed us warmly. I already knew the house, so I walked straight to the
TV lounge. Everyone else joined me there.
Mom and Aunty sat and started chatting. The conversation drifted from
introductions to many other topics. Honestly, I got tired just sitting there.

Mom felt like she’d seen Aunty somewhere before but couldn’t recall. Rameen
already knew her — she was one of Aunty’s boutique clients.

After about ten minutes, I saw my beloved entering with Zunaira. They were
carrying a tray of juice.

Iqra greeted everyone, served juice, then stood quietly to one side.

Aunty then said to Mom, “Meet my only daughter, Iqra. We lovingly call her
Neni.”

Hearing this, Mom looked at Iqra, called her close, hugged her, and said, “So
you’re the reason our Kashif is lost in thoughts these days. No wonder — you’re
so beautiful, anyone would be mesmerized.”

Mom then took a bit of kajal from her eye and dabbed it on Iqra’s cheek to ward
off evil (it’s a tradition).

She quickly gave her the gift they brought.

Iqra blushed and stayed beside Mom, hiding her face out of shyness.

Zunaira was introduced too.

Since we were early, lunch wasn’t ready yet. Aunty suggested, “Kashif, go
explore the house with Rameen while I chat with Halima baji.”

That seemed fine. I went with Rameen and the girls to see the house. No one
else was home. Bashir and Khaleel uncle were out for work. Khaleel uncle’s wife
was a school teacher and usually returned late. Their daughter got married a
few months ago — Iqra had already told me.

We first went upstairs to Iqra’s room.

We sat and talked, reintroducing ourselves again.

Rameen said, “Wow Kaashi, Mom was right — Iqra isn’t ordinary. There’s
something magical about her.”

Then she took Iqra’s hand, slipped the ring onto her finger, and said, “This is a
small gift from me.”

Iqra kept refusing, but Rameen insisted.

We resumed chatting, and then Rameen asked, “By the way, who’s the woman
with your mom at the boutique?”

Zunaira said, “The one with a mole near her nose?”

“Yes, her.”

“That’s my mom, Rukhsana Hayat. She’s my aunt’s boutique partner.”

Now the girls were deep in conversation, and I started getting bored again.

Iqra sensed it and excused herself to the kitchen, then messaged me to come
downstairs.

A few minutes later, I followed.

She was standing in the kitchen, looking so pretty as she worked.

I called her, and we hugged.

Just then, we heard a voice behind us: “What’s going on here?!”

It was Rameen.

I immediately let go of Neni and turned to look.

She said, “Kashi, seriously, you’re so impatient!”

What could I say?

She walked up, smacked my head gently, and said, “I knew this would happen.”

Then she sent me out and began talking to Neni — which I couldn’t hear.
About half an hour later, Neni came to call me. I had gone to the other part of
the house.

She called me for lunch.

As we were walking, I held her hand, looked into her eyes, and said, “Neni, you
look so beautiful today. My heart’s been fluttering since I saw you…”

I was about to say more when she interrupted, “Kash, whatever you want to say,
say it later. Everyone’s waiting for us. If we delay any longer, what will people
think?”

“Alright, let’s go,” I said as I gently held her close and kissed her lips. Then we
headed to the dining table.

Iqra had cooked the food herself today — she was trying her best to impress
Mom.

After lunch, Rameen again took Neni away. Mom and Aunty continued chatting
in Aunty’s bedroom.

I was left alone again and thought, I’ve come here just to be bored.

Honestly, I hadn’t even planned on coming — Mom asked me to. But seeing
them now, it looked like Mom and Aunty were long-lost sisters trying to relive all
their life memories in one day — without needing me at all.

So I went back to the other section, lay down on a bed in a room, and started
calling someone.

Soon I heard a car pull up. After a while, Bashir uncle entered that part of the
house.

I quickly stood up, greeted him respectfully, and we started chatting.

We had a great time. Uncle was very friendly and shared many stories — about
his business, life, and more. His personality impressed me — he was a high-
caliber man who knew how to talk to people of all kinds and ages.
While we were chatting, Zunaira came in with tea and snacks.

Just as we began having tea, Iqra arrived and said, “Kashif, your mom says it’s
time to leave. Let’s go.”

I said, “Okay, tell them to get ready. I’ll go get the car.”

Uncle asked, “Do you know how to drive?”

“Yes, I do. But I don’t have a license yet, and I rarely need to drive, so…”

I smiled at him.

By then, Iqra had already left, and we finished our tea.

I thanked Uncle and walked out to get the car.

After bringing it around, I went to the main portion, where only Mom and Aunty
were sitting downstairs.

Mom asked me to go call Rameen.

I went upstairs.

Rameen and Neni were sitting, talking. I began listening...

Rameen Api: "Iqra, you’re truly very lovely. Tell me, how did you even fall for
Kashi? He never even glanced at anyone before. What kind of glance happened
between you two that now he’s lost in thoughts of you all the time? Whenever
your name comes up, his face lights up.”

Iqra: "Api, this is the game of hearts — they choose someone without even
seeing. And as for me, like I told you, our story was written from above, placed in
our hearts by God, and shown to us in dreams.”

Rameen: "That’s so true… by the way, your story sounds straight out of a
movie. It’s hard to believe at first, but when I see you both together, it feels
real... that yes, such things do happen.”
Iqra: "It’s God’s mercy that He gave me such a wonderful person — otherwise,
what value do I even have…”

Rameen: "MashaAllah, as lovely as you are, I feel like it’s Kashi who’s been truly
blessed…"

They both laughed at that, and I walked into the room.

Kashi: "What are you both laughing about? Tell me too, so I can laugh."

Both of them replied in unison, “Nothing special, just girl talk.”

Kashi (smiling): "Alright, I believe you — it must be some personal stuff."

"And oh, Rameen Api, mom is calling you downstairs — it’s time to go. I’ve
prepared the car. Please listen to mom."

I gestured for her to go, and she said, "Okay!"

As soon as she left, I pulled Neni close and held her against my chest. I kissed her
forehead and said,

Kashi: "Neni jaan..." and then just looked at her with love-filled eyes.

She said, “Yes Kashi, tell me…”

Kashi: "I’ll speak later — first let me take in my good fortune to have you."

Hearing that, a sparkle lit up her eyes and she hid her face in my chest.

Then I said, "Neni… I feel like we’ve known each other forever, like we’ve had
these conversations before, just like this."

Iqra: "The way you’re saying it — I feel the same. And after meeting your mom
today, I’ve fallen even more in love with you. Now I truly believe that one day
we’ll be together forever, and I’ll be in your arms as you lull me to sleep."

I pulled her even closer and said, "I hope that day comes soon..."
As we kept talking, we completely lost ourselves in each other. Just then I
noticed that Zunaira was standing in a corner watching us. As soon as our eyes
met, she became flustered and quickly walked away.

I moved away from Iqra and called Zunaira — she had come to tell us that mom
and the others were ready to leave.

I quickly said goodbye to Neni and went downstairs. We stepped out, said Allah
Hafiz to Aunty, and I said goodbye to Uncle too, who was waiting outside. Then
we left for home. Nothing major happened on the way.

By the time we reached home, it was evening. Baba had gone to Maimoona
Api’s place and was supposed to return today but decided to stay the night.

When we reached home, mom was tired and went to her room. Rameen Api
began chatting with Muni and the others.

Dinner was being prepared, so I went to my room — the whole day had passed
without any study.

While studying, I kept thinking, “I wonder how mom felt about their family... or
if they had any issues with mine.”

But such thoughts are natural until we get confirmation — either from mom or
from Neni.

Later, Muni came to call me for dinner and started chatting.

Muni: "So brother, how are you? How was your day? How did everything go?"

Kashi: "I’m fine. My day was good, though I got a bit bored. I couldn’t talk to
Aunty or Iqra in front of mom and the others. And Rameen Api stuck to Iqra like
glue — wherever Iqra went, she followed."

Kashi: "Anyway, did Api say anything to you about today?"

Muni: "Not really, just a bit. But you know, because of Areeba, we’re all being a
little cautious around her."
(We hadn’t told anyone, especially Areeba, where we were going. We told her we
were attending a wedding of Baba’s friend’s daughter.)

She and mom had gone straight to sleep after returning, and I had just woken
them up for dinner.

Muni: "You should come too — let’s talk later."

We both went downstairs. Everyone was at the dinner table. I sat down in my
spot and looked at mom.

She still seemed a bit sleepy, so I couldn’t tell much from her expressions. She
looked at me once, smiled, and then focused on eating.

After dinner, I went back to my room, and mom came to my room shortly after.

Kashi: "Mom! Tell me, how did you find their home?"

Mom stayed silent for a while, gave me a serious look and said:

Mom: "What do you think? How would I have felt?"

Her face was neutral, expressionless.

Kashi: "Only you can tell, mom. What did you think?"

Mom: "Still, guess something."

Her tone hadn't changed.

Kashi: "Judging from your expression, it seems like you didn’t like them that
much…"

I said in a low voice.

Mom: "How did you know that I didn’t like them?"

Kashi: "Your face says it all."

Mom: "If I say I didn’t like them and that you can’t marry there, what would you
say?"

Still serious.

Kashi: "Mom, I’ll only request that you give them one more chance. If after that
you still don’t like them, I’ll back off. After all, you’re my mother — you’d never
want bad for me. If there’s something I’m missing, you’ll have seen it."

Hearing my answer, mom came close, kissed my forehead, and said:

Mom: "I knew you'd answer like this. I have full faith in the way I raised you."

She smiled.

Kashi: "Now please tell me honestly — how did you find them, and especially
Iqra?"

Mom: "Can it ever be that my son likes something and it’s not worthy?"

Then she added, "At first I was unsure, wondering what kind of people they
would be. But after meeting them, I felt like they were our own. Iqra’s mother is
such a good woman — felt like my own sister.

And Iqra... MashaAllah, she’s such a sweet girl. My heart didn’t want to stop
looking at her — such a delicate face, such lovely eyes, and so respectful. I want
her to become my daughter-in-law soon."

Hearing all this, I felt relieved — everything was finally clear.

Mom stayed for a while, blessed me, then went to her room.

I resumed studying.

Not long after, Rameen Api and Muni came into my room.

They were smiling.

I asked, "Why are you two smiling like that?"

Rameen: "No reason, just felt like it."

Kashi: "There must be something..."

Muni: "Actually, Api just saw her future sister-in-law. That’s why she’s so
happy."

Kashi: "Why happy?"

Muni: "Why not? Meeting your sister-in-law isn’t an everyday thing!"

Rameen: "Kashi, tell me honestly — do you really love her?"

Kashi: "Why? Do you doubt it?"

Rameen: "No, no doubts. It’s just… Iqra is so sweet, I wouldn’t be able to bear
seeing her hurt. I just want to be sure your heart won’t wander someday and
leave her in pain."

Kashi: "Api, I swear on mom — I’ll always be hers till my last breath. I fell in love
with her after seeing her in my dreams, long before I even knew she was real. If
she didn’t exist, I’d have searched the world for her."

Rameen looked at me lovingly and said:

Rameen: "Forgive me, Kashi — I didn’t realize how much you loved her."

Kashi: "No worries, Api. And who else has the right to question me if not you?"

Then I asked:

Kashi: "Tell me honestly now — how did you find Iqra? What do you feel?"

Rameen: "Honestly, I can’t believe our Kashi picked such a girl. She’s beautiful,
so elegant, and handles everything so well. I felt like bringing her home myself."

Kashi: "Thank God you liked her. I was scared you might not."

Kashi: "So how was Aunty with you?"

Rameen: "I already knew Aunty. I became her customer because of her good
behavior at the boutique. Her sister — Zunaira’s mom — is also lovely. Aunty
and mom clicked instantly, like long-lost sisters. Aunty spent most of the time
with mom, explaining everything."

Kashi: "By the way, why did mom want to meet Aunty alone first?"

Rameen: "These are women’s matters, Kashi. Stay out of it. Weddings aren’t
simple things."

Kashi: "Alright, as you say."

We kept chatting for a while, then I asked Muni to make tea.

Just then I remembered Baba had asked about Aamir — maybe it was time to
talk to Api.

But before I could, Api said:

Rameen: "Kashi, I want to talk to you."

Kashi: "Yes, Api, go ahead."

Rameen: "What were you saying at the hospital — that Baba is looking for a
match for me?"

She sounded nervous.

I thought — well, that makes it easier.

Kashi: "Yes, Api. Baba told me he’s thinking about your marriage and asked me
to talk to you. If you like someone, tell me — I’ll convince Baba."

Rameen: "Oh, so that’s what it is… I thought Baba had already picked
someone."

She sighed deeply. Her tone made me a bit suspicious.

Kashi: "Is there someone in your heart?"

She sighed again and fell silent.

Kashi: "Api, don’t worry. Consider me your friend. Just say it — I won’t judge
you."

Just then, Muni returned with tea, and we went silent again — Api didn’t want
anyone to hear this conversation.

We had our tea, chatted more, and then they both went to sleep.

I was tired too, so I started getting ready for bed — then I realized I hadn’t
spoken to Neni yet.

I picked up my phone and texted her. Five minutes later, she replied. I asked her
to come on call, and she agreed.

As soon as the call connected, she said:

Neni: "Kashi, my love…"

I got lost just hearing her call me “my love.”

She said again: “Kashi, my love…”

I came to my senses and replied:

Kashi: "Yes, my dearest love, tell me — I’m listening."

Neni: "Kashi, I love you."

She said it in a way that even someone who didn’t love her would melt. I, who
was already drowned in her love, was completely lost again.

She asked if I was still there.

Kashi: "Yes, my love, I’m right here — listening."

Neni: "Then tell me what I just said?"

I could tell she wanted me to say it back, but being a guy, I thought I’d tease her
a little.

Kashi: "I heard you, but I was multitasking — could you say it again?"

Neni: "What? You just said you were listening and now you say you weren’t?
That’s not fair."

Kashi: "Please, Neni… say it again, I swear I didn’t hear it properly."

Neni: "Fine, but this time listen carefully…"

And in the same sweet tone — “Kashi, I love you.”

Kashi: "Ah, I think there's a network issue — I still can’t hear you."

She got the joke.

Neni: "You just want to hear it again and again, don’t you?"

Kashi: "If you know that, then why don’t you keep saying it?"

Neni: "Oh God… fine, listen —

Kashi, I love you. I love you. I love you…"

I stopped her midway.

Neni: "Is that enough or should I keep going?"

Kashi: "Can you still go on?"

Neni: "If you say so, I’ll say it my whole life. I wouldn’t mind dying saying those
words."

Kashi: "Please don’t say such things — I want to live with you, spend my life
with you."

Neni: "Fine, I won’t. But now you listen to me."

Kashi: "Yes, my love, say it."

Neni (laughing): "Where do you find these new terms of endearment?"

Kashi: "Why? You didn’t like it?"

Neni: "No, I loved it!"

Kashi: "Then tell me, what do you want?"

Neni: "I told you ‘I love you’ so many times, but you didn’t even say it once!"

Kashi: "Ah, so that’s the issue. Alright, then listen —

I love you too. Love you too. Love you too..."

Neni: "Okay okay, I get it! You love me a lot."

Then she asked, “Why were you teasing me?”

Kashi: "That’s just my way of showing love."

Neni: "Oh, so that’s how you love, huh?"

Kashi: "Exactly. Unless you want me to change?"

Neni: "No, I love your way — you’re everything to me."

Our sweet talk went on.

Then I remembered — I wanted to ask how her mom found my family.

Kashi: "So, tell me, what did your mom and you think of my mom?"

Neni: "Kashif, your mom is amazing. She gave me so much love that I forgot she
wasn’t even my own mom.

Rameen Api is also wonderful — like a real big sister."

"And you know what mom said just now?

‘I used to worry when Kashif would tell his family, when things would move
forward. But after meeting Halima Baji today, I realized Kashif really belongs to
a good family. She’s such a dignified and respectable woman, and her
upbringing is visible in her children.

I had only met Kashif before, but seeing Rameen today — I was shocked. She’s
my favorite customer, always respectful, never any issues. I always wanted to
meet her mom and praise her — and today, I finally did.

Now I have no issues — I’m happy our daughter will be in such a family.’"

Kashi: "Thank God they liked us. I was so worried that maybe one side wouldn’t
like the other and we’d be separated."

Neni: "Don’t worry — my mom really likes your family and is fully on board now.
Dad was already convinced thanks to Salar Uncle."

Kashi: "Tell me one thing — how’s your brother? He won’t be a problem, will
he?"

Neni: "Not at all! He’s a great guy. In fact, he also wants to marry someone he
likes — and he’s told me everything. Obviously, if he wants his own love
marriage, he won’t have an issue with mine."

Kashi: "So Fahad likes someone? Who is she?"

Neni: "I’ll tell you everything tomorrow — even introduce you."

Kashi: "Do I know her?"

Neni: "Maybe, maybe not…"

Kashi: "Alright, whatever you say."

Neni: "Oh, and one more thing — you asked if Fahad will be okay with
everything. I’ll let you meet him face to face. That’ll be best."

Kashi: "He’s coming?"

Neni: "Yes, remember I told you there’s a family party this Sunday — he’ll be
there."
Kashi: "Perfect. That’ll clear everything up."

After that, nothing special — I said goodbye and went to sleep. I had to go to
school the next morning anyway.

The next morning, Baba still wasn’t home. I got ready and went to school. I was
a little late, arrived right at class time, and couldn’t meet Neni in the morning.

Classes went on, and it was finally recess. I went to the canteen.

Soon after, Zunaira arrived with Saleha — but Neni was nowhere to be seen.

They both came and sat with me. I asked about Neni, and they told me she
didn’t come because of the party prep — the whole family had gone shopping.

As we ate samosas, Saleha said:

Saleha: "Kashif bhai, talk to us too sometime! You’re always behind Neni."

Kashi: "I’m not always behind her — and even if I am, why not? She’s my love.
She’s the only one in my thoughts, so I don’t see anyone else."

Zunaira: "Wow... so much love?"

Kashi: "Yes. Love is like that — everything else feels tasteless and empty "You
must already know that," I said while looking into her eyes.

Her face changed color upon hearing this, and she quickly replied,

Zunaira — “How would I know that?”

There was a trace of fear in her tone that made me increasingly suspicious.

Kashi — “I just had a feeling that you might know.”

“Any specific reason?” she asked nervously again.

Kashi — “There could be a reason, or maybe not. It depends on the other

person.”
Zunaira — “What do you mean by that?”

Now her voice was trembling slightly, like someone trying to justify themselves
after getting caught.

Kashi — “Meaning... I have no hidden intention or interest. I was just curious

and wanted to help. But maybe...”

As I spoke, I fell silent midway.

Saleha — “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kashif bhai. I can’t
understand anything.”

Kashi — “I wasn’t really talking. I was just shooting arrows in the air... and it
seems like one hit the target.”

I said this while looking at Zunaira.

Hearing me, her face turned pale, and she looked as though she might faint at
any moment.

I decided not to push her further and thought of doing something else.

But first, I needed to get Saleha out of the scene. I wasn’t sure if she knew
anything about this situation.

While thinking about how to get her away, I remembered something Rameen
Api had asked me to do that morning.

As soon as it came to mind, I thought, “Perfect timing, let’s use this,” and
turned to Saleha.

Kashi — “Saleha, can you do me a favor, please?”

Saleha — “Yes, yes, Kashif bhai, go ahead.”

“Please go to the girls’ section and see if Ma’am Aliya is there. If she is, tell her I
need to meet her after school. Rameen Api had to send her some items, and I
need to talk about that.”
Saleha — “Can’t it wait?”

Kashi — “I heard she usually leaves during recess, so please go now.”

Saleha agreed and left.

As soon as she was gone, I turned to Zunaira, who was sitting silently, her head
lowered.

Kashi — “So Zunaira, tell me, what’s going on?”

Zunaira — “What do you mean?”

Kashi — “Look, I know there’s something in your heart, and I even have an idea
about who holds a place there.”

Zunaira — “What are you talking about, Kashif bhai? I don’t understand
anything,” she said, pretending to be innocent.

Kashi — “Alright. I was only trying to help as a brother. If you don’t want to tell
me, that’s fine.”

She stayed quiet for a while, and then we started talking about random things.

But I still wanted her to open up. So, I tried another route.

Kashi — “Oh right, Zunaira, do you know anything about this matter?”

Zunaira — “What matter?”

Kashi — “Actually, yesterday I was talking to Neni, and she told me her family is
looking for a girl for her brother Fahad. Apparently, they’ve already chosen
someone. Neni said Fahad likes someone from Lahore and wants to marry her.
Do you know anything about this?”

Zunaira turned pale instantly, and tears welled up in her eyes.

I quickly asked, “What happened? Why are you crying?”

Zunaira — Crying, “Fahad didn’t do right by me. I will never forgive him. He
swore to live and die with me, and now he’s marrying someone else? I won’t
spare him. And Neni… she knew everything, yet said nothing. I considered her
my friend, did everything for her, and when it came to me, she turned away.
How is that fair?”

She began sobbing uncontrollably.

Kashi — “You told Neni everything?”

Zunaira — “Yes, Kashif bhai. Fahad and I have loved each other since childhood.
I can’t live without him. I told everything to Neni, and he made her his
confidante too. But in the end, both of them stayed silent.”

As she kept crying, I began laughing — because my plan had worked.

Kashi — “So that’s what it is. Let me tell you something…”

Zunaira — “Yes?”

“I was bluffing. Neni never said anything to me about Fahad’s marriage. I only
suspected you had something going on with him. That day, the way you reacted
to his name, it made me suspicious. So I pushed the conversation hoping you’d
reveal something. When you didn’t, I came up with this plan to bluff — and look,
it worked.”

Zunaira looked visibly relieved.

Zunaira — “That was very wrong, Kashif bhai. I thought so many things about
my friend and my love... I started hating both. If you had just asked directly, I
might have told you. But this method was really upsetting. I used to think of you
as a good person, but now I feel like you just play games with people.”

Kashi — “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to
ask such a private question directly. Please forgive me. I didn’t realize it would
hurt you this much.”
I folded my hands in apology because I truly felt bad.

Seeing me with folded hands, Zunaira panicked and quickly held my hands,
saying —

“No, no, Kashif bhai. What are you doing? I was the one thinking wrong. You
only did this to help me. Please don’t make me feel small by apologizing like
that. I’m not upset with you. I was just overwhelmed and said things I shouldn’t
have. Please forgive me — I doubted your character.”

She began crying again.

I wiped her tears with my handkerchief and said,

“Zunaira, you're not a stranger to me — you’re like a sister. That’s why I had
this conversation with you. I just wanted to know your feelings so that if the
time comes and you need help, I’ll be there for both of you.

Just like you supported me and Neni, it’s our duty to be there for you too. If
anything I said hurt you, I sincerely apologize.”

I lowered my head.

Zunaira — “Kashif bhai, I should be the one apologizing. I said too much. You
always treated me like a sister.”

Kashi — “Let’s drop it now. I’ll treat you to something nice!”

We both smiled, and now I knew what I wanted to know.

Saleha returned and said Ma’am Aliya was in the principal’s office and wanted
to meet me before leaving. I said okay, and we ordered pizza.

I told Saleha that it was a treat from me to celebrate things being fine between
me and Neni — both of them had helped me, and I hadn’t done anything in
return.
After pizza, I told Zunaira, “I’ll listen to the rest of your story tomorrow,” and
went to the principal’s office to meet Ma’am Aliya.

She was about to leave.

(Rameen Api and Ma’am Aliya had been classmates in their Master’s program
and were now planning to start a business together. Api had learned clothing
design, and Ma’am Aliya had experience in makeup.)

Anyway, I gave her the items and told her what Api had asked me to.

Then I headed to class. Recess had ended, and I was late.

I excused myself, saying I was with the principal.

Nothing special happened after that, and I went home after school.

At home, I got a surprise.

When Dad came home, Maimoona Api returned with him too.

My little nephew was home — that made me really happy. A bond with a
nephew is truly special.

I greeted them and started playing with him, then chatted with Api.

Kashi — “How are you, Api?”

Maimoona Api — “I’m fine. I’ve heard you’ve been up to some big things
lately,” she said sarcastically.

Kashi — “Well, Api, as I grow up, the tasks get bigger too. Anyway, where’s
Shehryar bhai (her husband)?”

Api — “You know how busy he is with work.”

Kashi — “Yes, he really is. But does he spend time with Hanzala (my nephew), or
is work the usual excuse?”

Api — “No, he changed his work timings for him. He’s home more often now.”
Kashi — “That’s really great.”

We kept talking. Dad had also gone to his job but skipped the office today,
maybe because of Hanzala.

When Dad returned, we all sat together again. After some time, the Asr prayer
call came, and we got up.

Saadi, Dad, and I went to pray. The women began setting up dinner.

After prayer, Saadi went to play cricket with friends in the park while I took a
walk. There, I saw Aamir and went to him.

Time passed while chatting with him, and after praying Maghrib, Saadi and I
returned home.

Seeing Aamir reminded me I had to talk to Rameen Api. I planned to talk to her
outside, so I stayed quiet.

Back in my room, I started studying when Maimoona Api entered holding a

crying Hanzala.

Api — “Kashi, he won’t stop crying. Can you hold him? Maybe he’ll calm down.”

I quickly picked him up, and he stopped crying shortly after.

Api — “I’ve been trying to soothe him for a long time, but he calmed down as
soon as you held him. What magic do you have?”

Kashi — “It’s not magic — just a trick of the eyes. Maybe he misses his dad, and
seeing me reminded him of him.”

Api — “He doesn’t really get along with his dad. He always cries when he holds
him. But he’s very attached to Aadil, so maybe he sees you the same way.”

Aadil was my sister’s brother-in-law and younger than me.

That could be true.

Api and I talked while Hanzala played and eventually fell asleep. He looked
adorable sleeping — I’ve always loved kids.

While we sat, Muni came to call us for dinner.

I carried Hanzala down with me.

Mom said — “Wow Kashi, you’ve made a real bond with your nephew. Look
how peacefully he’s sleeping in your arms.”

Kashi — “He’s my only nephew. I have every right to spoil him.”

I held him while I ate.

After dinner, we all went to our rooms. I put Hanzala in Api’s room and came
out.

Just then, I saw Rameen Api heading to her room.

Remembering yesterday’s talk, I went after her and knocked.

Api — “Who is it?”

Kashi — “It’s me, Kashi. May I come in?”

Api — “Oh, it’s you — come in, the door’s not locked.”

I entered and sat on the couch while she worked on her laptop.

Kashi — “Api, I need to talk to you — may I?”

Api — “Of course. Since when do you need permission?”

Kashi — “I’m not sure how to ask, but it’s necessary. And it’s for your own
good.”

She stopped working and looked at me.

Api — “What’s so serious that you’re nervous?”

I gathered courage and said,

Kashi — “Api, I wanted to ask you... Yesterday, I mentioned that Dad is looking
for a proposal for you. Right?”

Api — “Yes, you told me. What about it?”

Kashi — “I want to ask if there’s someone you like. You said yesterday you’d
want to see how I react if you told me. I’d be happy and support you.”

Api — “Oh, so that’s it? Thank you so much, bro.”

Kashi — “Actually, I want to know — is there really someone in your heart?”

Api — “Why do you want to know?”

Kashi — “So I can help.”

Api — “Alright, fine. There is someone.”

She looked directly at me.

Kashi — “Who is it?”

Api — “Someone who probably isn’t destined for me…”

She sighed. I moved closer and sat beside her.

Kashi — “Api, destiny is what you make it. Tell me who he is. Where is he from?
How do you know him?”

Api — “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

Kashi — “I swear. Just trust me.”

Api — “There were a few boys in university who proposed to me, but I’ve always
had feelings for someone since childhood. He doesn’t even know it. He’s a year
younger than me.”

Kashi — “Come on, age doesn’t matter these days. If you like him and he feels
the same, you have every right. Who is he?”
Api — “You know him well. We used to play together as kids. He once told me,
‘Rai (my childhood nickname), I’ll marry you when I grow up. I like you a lot.’ I
never forgot that.”

Kashi — “Tell me. If they’ve moved away, I’ll find them.”

Api — “No, they still live here. And now he’s grown into a fine young man.”

Kashi — “Then who is he?”

Api — “It’s Shafiq uncle’s son — your friend Aamir. He said he’d marry me
when he grew up.”

As soon as I heard that, I burst into laughter.

Api looked confused, then tears filled her eyes.

Api — “Was that a joke to you? Why are you laughing like this?”

Kashi — “No, Api! Please don’t be upset. I wasn’t laughing at you. I have
something to tell you...”

Api — “What?”

Kashi — “First, have you ever tried talking to Aamir?”

Api — “No. I was too scared he’d reject me and shatter my hopes.”

Kashi — “Why didn’t you tell anyone else?”

Api — “I didn’t have the courage. I couldn’t even tell Mom or Dad.”

Kashi — “That’s such an outdated mindset. Our family has moved past that.
Look at Maimoona Api — she expressed her choice and married Shehryar bhai
with Dad’s blessing. Same with me. If you tell Dad, he’ll be happy.”

Kashi — “Now imagine Dad chooses someone else for you, and problems arise.
Then he finds out you liked someone else. He’d be devastated.”

Api — “You’re right, Kashi. Thank you for opening my eyes.”

Kashi — “So what now?”

Api — “What should I do?”

Kashi — “When Dad asks, just tell him. Or tell him you’ve told me. I’ll handle the
rest.”

Api — “I’ll say that. You’re my brother, friend, and confidant now.”

She hugged me, her face wet with tears. I wiped them.

We talked more.

Api — “You said you had some news?”

Kashi — “Actually, there’s no news. I said that just to distract you from my
laughter. I didn’t want to tell you yet... that the proposal Dad got for you is
actually from Aamir’s family.”

Api — “Then why were you laughing?”

Kashi — “Honestly, your love story was so innocent, like a child’s. I couldn’t
help it.”

Api punched my shoulder — “You’re terrible!”

I laughed again.

Kashi — “Now that this is settled, I’ll go ask Aamir what’s in his heart!”

Later, I went to my room, studied for two hours, and then went outside for fresh
air.

Dad was sitting there, and I joined him.

Dad — “Kashi, when are your exams?”

Kashi — “They start in the first week of the third month and end by the month's
end.”
Dad — “May Allah grant you success. So, what are your future plans?”

Kashi — “I’m aiming for CSS. If not that, then business management. I want to
grow a business to international levels. We always import — I want us to export
high-demand products.”

Dad — “Wow... I never thought that way. You’re really thinking ahead. I believe
you’ll succeed.”

Dad — “Why do you want to go into bureaucracy though?”

Kashi — “Because once an uncle asked me what I wanted to be. I said, someone
who helps poor people get homes. He said, ‘Then do CSS. That way, you can
really help them.’ Since then, I’ve had that dream.”

At that time, I didn’t even know what bureaucracy really meant. But now that I
understand, I truly believe that it’s a way through which we can genuinely help
the public…!

Dad said, “Son, this is a very noble thought. I pray that Allah grants you success
in every field of life and that you continue making enlightened decisions that
benefit everyone.”

I replied, “Ameen.”

The conversation carried on…

After a while, I said to Dad,

“Kashi—Dad, you were saying the other day that Mr. Shafiq came to talk about
Rameen Aapi… What happened with that?”

Dad replied, “Yes, son, he did come, but I was so busy I couldn’t even talk to
your mother about it, and no one from their side followed up either.”

I said, “Dad, honestly, if Rameen Aapi is okay with the proposal, then I think it
would be a really good match. No one knows Aamir better than I do, and you
already know Mr. Shafiq and their family—they’re good people.”
Dad said, “Yes, son, I think the same. I’ll talk to your mother in a day or two and
then we’ll ask Rameen.”

I said, “Dad, can I make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead, son.”

“When you ask Aapi, please don’t mention whose proposal it is. Just ask her in
general if she likes anyone, or if she’s okay with us finding someone for her. If
you mention someone specific, she’ll probably say yes, even if she doesn’t like
him. She’s too innocent to ever speak her heart.”

Dad replied, “Alright son, as you wish.”

I added, “And one more thing, please take me along when you go to ask her.
Maybe she won’t speak openly in front of you, but she might talk to me.”

Dad agreed, and then we both went inside to sleep.

That day, I had only messaged Naini. She told me they had to leave suddenly in
the morning, so she couldn’t inform me. But she’d be at school tomorrow…

I fell asleep.

The next morning, after freshening up, I went outside and saw Maimoona Aapi
swinging Hanzala. I joined them, and Aapi handed Hanzala over to me and
vanished.

The baby had already gotten used to me, so he kept playing with me. We swung
on the swing for quite a while.

Then it was time for school, so I handed Hanzala back to Aapi, went to my room,
got ready, had breakfast, and left for school.

Once there, I sat on my usual parking bench, and a few minutes later, Iqra and
the others arrived.

Iqra greeted me, stood by my side for a bit, and then both girls went inside.
I turned to Naini:

“So, how are you? How was your day yesterday?”

Naini replied, “Don’t even ask. We were so exhausted, the fatigue hasn’t left us
even today. We spent the entire day shopping—first our own stuff, then gifts for
guests, and finally, when we got home, we had to set everything up. It felt like
we were fighting a war.”

I said, “Oh no… My love, you were tired? Come here, let me hug you. That’ll take
away all your fatigue.”

She was waiting for that. As soon as I said it, she wrapped herself around me,
and I kissed her cheek and forehead and held her tightly.

We stayed like that for a while, and everything around us seemed to fade into a
dreamy silence.

Then we pulled apart, and she asked,

“Now you tell me, how was your day yesterday?”

I said, “Honestly, without you, every moment feels restless. I missed you a lot
yesterday. It was quite an adventurous day for me.”

“Adventurous? What do you mean?” she asked.

“Where should I begin…?”

“From the beginning, of course.”

Just as I was about to speak, the bell rang.

I said, “I’ll tell you during recess. It’s a long story.”

Naini: “Zunaira and the others will be there!”

I said, “That’ll make it more fun. And hey, you also had something to tell me,
remember?”
“What thing, Kaash?” she asked curiously.

“Think about it. Meanwhile, I’ll head to class.”

I said goodbye and walked off to school.

We had our regular classes. Since we were preparing for exams, we had one test
before recess and one after.

Today, I was only prepared for one, and unfortunately, the one I wasn’t ready for
came first. Somehow I made it through.

When recess came, I went to the canteen and sat at my usual table.

Naini and the girls also arrived and sat beside me.

Naini said, “Kaash, I’m a little upset with you,” pouting adorably.

I said, “Wow! You even look cute when you’re angry. If love from you is this
sweet, then anger must be devastatingly beautiful.”

Zunaira and Saleha burst into laughter. Iqra blushed and hid her face in her
dupatta. But now I was in full form.

I said, “Even this dupatta is lucky—it gets to touch your face at least.”

Hearing this, Iqra got up to leave, clearly flustered. I grabbed her hand.

“Nain jaan, please sit. Okay, I won’t say anything more.”

She replied, “You’re impossible! You don’t even think about where we are. My
friends are here!”

I said, “Good or bad, this is who I am. If you don’t like it, I’ll let go of everything—
just please, don’t be upset. My soul trembles when you are.”

Hearing that, her eyes reddened and she said,

“Who said I’m upset with you? I was talking about how you gave a treat to my
friends yesterday without waiting for me.”
I didn’t know how to explain the real reason for the treat.

So I said, “I just wanted to thank them. After all, it’s because of them we’re
together again. And it was their personal day, so I couldn’t wait. But next time,
lunch is on me—for all three of you. You pick the date and place.”

Naini said, “There’s no need. I was just joking.”

I said, “What’s said is said—I don’t take back my word.”

Before Naini could speak, Zunaira and Saleha chimed in together,

“It’s a deal, Naini. Kashif bhai said it.”

Naini replied, “Okay, fine. As you wish.”

We placed our order, and while eating, I remembered something.

“Naini, you asked about my adventurous day, right?” I said, glancing at Zunaira,
who was already looking at me.

“Yes, tell us!” Naini replied, still eating.

“Should I?” I looked at Zunaira for permission.

“Why are you asking her?” Naini asked.

“Just like that. Anyway, did you remember what you wanted to tell me?”

“Yes! You had to meet someone, right?” Naini said.

“Yes! And do Zunaira and Saleha know?”

“They have to know—especially Zunaira,” she replied.

“And Saleha?”

“She knows everything too.”

“Great. That makes this much easier.”

Zunaira and Saleha looked at us, confused about what we were discussing.

I said, “Naini, should I tell you something? The person you wanted me to meet—
I already met her yesterday. That’s what made my day adventurous.”

Naini: “What? I don’t understand.”

Kaashi: “Remember, we spoke on the phone and you said you’d introduce me to
your future sister-in-law? I met her yesterday.”

Zunaira’s face turned red.

Naini: “But I never told you anything about her! How did you know?”

Kaashi: “I figured it out. And yesterday just confirmed everything.”

I winked at Naini, and she understood I was playing a game.

“So now you know who Fahad loves and who loves him back,” Naini said.

I replied, “Very well. Your future bhabhi is so smart, she had me begging for
forgiveness. She’s already acting like your bhabhi—sweet to your face, and
cursing you behind your back.”

Zunaira glared at me furiously.

Naini: “So tell me who she is! Don’t end up making someone else my bhabhi by
mistake.”

Kaashi: “No way. I’m talking about the one and only. Honestly, thank God she’s
not in my life.”

Zunaira burst out: “Kashif bhai, that’s too much! That’s plain insult! I already
told you yesterday I didn’t mean what I said. Don’t humiliate me further. Naini is
my friend before she becomes my sister-in-law. I’d never badmouth her.”

I started laughing loudly. So did everyone else.

Zunaira realized I’d tricked her into revealing the truth again and laughed too,
covering her face.

I said, “See, Naini? I told you I met your bhabhi—and you just saw her scolding
her future brother-in-law!”

Naini replied, “Okay okay, I accept it—you always figure everything out. And
now I know for sure that my bhabhi is not just a friend—she’s the real deal.”

Zunaira: “Seriously, Iqra? Even you’re saying this now?”

Naini: “Relax, I was just joking. Now tell me, Kaash, how did you find out about
Zuni?”

Kaashi: “I got suspicious the day I visited your house. Then when you spoke on
the phone and said you’d introduce me at school, I was even more sure.
Yesterday just confirmed everything.”

Naini: “What happened yesterday?”

I said, “Zunaira will tell you.”

Zunaira then shared how I tricked the truth out of her with a lie.

We all laughed.

Naini: “So yesterday’s pizza was a compensation?”

I nodded with a laugh.

Naini: “Well, at least now you know who Fahad loves. You’ll be able to handle
things better if any problems arise.”

During all this, Saleha just kept laughing. I got a bit suspicious but decided to let
it be unless she shared something herself.

I said jokingly, “Let’s leave that matter to the right time.”

Everyone looked at me.

I said, “Nain, you just said I’d handle Fahad. That’s what I was responding to.”

“Ah, got it.”

Then I signaled Zunaira and Saleha to leave. They left.

There was still a bit of time before recess ended.

I asked, “Naini, what’s the deal with this Sunday’s party? Why all this effort?
Fahad’s even skipping important studies to attend.”

Naini: “It’s a family tradition. Every year, we have one big dinner where at least
one person from each household must come. The location changes every year.
This started even before my great-grandfather’s time. This year, it’s our turn.
That’s why we’re so involved.”

I said, “That’s such a wonderful tradition. Your ancestors must’ve been amazing
people.”

She replied, “Yes, and that’s why we’re so stressed.”

I said, “InshaAllah, everything will go well. Don’t stress too much.”

I asked, “Surely there must be a committee managing all this?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Every house has one member in the committee. My
grandfather is the head. He decides the location and time. Expenses are mostly
shared—70% by the committee, the rest by the host family.”

I asked, “So who represents your house?”

“First it was my dad, then my uncle. Now it’s Fahad—only young people are
selected.”

I said, “That’s a great system. I’ll try to introduce something like that in my
family too.”

We headed back to class. Then school ended and I returned home.

I went straight to Maimoona Aapi’s room to meet Hani, but he was asleep. I
kissed him and returned to my room and dozed off—for the first time, I slept
during the day with no stress at all.

In the evening, I woke up and went outside.

Boys were playing cricket in the park. I joined them.

After a while, Aamir arrived.

I left the game and sat with him to talk.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Alhamdulillah! What about you?”

“Just studies, studies, and more studies. Matric exams are near. I wanted your
advice.”

“My advice: do what your heart says. Don’t compromise your future for others.”

After some random talk, I got to the point.

“I wanted to ask you something, Aamir.”

“Sure, go ahead!”

“Dad told me yesterday that your father sent a proposal for Rameen Aapi. I just
wanted to ask… Was that from your side too?”

Aamir: “Honestly, don’t take it the wrong way… I’ve liked Rameen since
childhood. I asked Dad to send the proposal.”

I replied, “No worries at all. Everyone has their preferences. If we turn this into
an ego issue, we could ruin both families’ long-standing relationship.”

Aamir: “So why are you asking if I was involved?”

Kaashi: “It’s my sister’s life. I have to make sure. And you're my friend—I care for
you too. If you weren’t happy with it, both your and her lives could’ve been
ruined.”

Aamir: “No, don’t worry. I was the one who initiated it. No pressure from
anyone.”

Kaashi: “Great. One more thing—did you ever feel that my sister was interested
too?”

Aamir: “Not really. We’ve never even spoken. If she has any objection, she can
say no. I won’t take a wrong step, and I promise it won’t affect our friendship.”

I said, “That’s good then. Now it all depends on Rameen.”

Later that evening, after Maghrib prayer, I came home and played with Hani. He
was so adorable.

Nothing major happened after that. I went to my room and started studying.

Then it was dinner time. After eating, I returned to my room. Half an hour later, I
got a message from Mom, asking me to come to her room. I knew it must be
something important.

I went downstairs.

Everyone was in the room: Dad, Mom, Maimoona Aapi, Rameen, and Kashaf
(Moni), except Saadi who was asleep, and Hani who was sleeping in Aapi’s lap.

I greeted everyone, kissed Hani on the forehead, and sat on the sofa.

Then the conversation began…

Dad said, “Okay, Kaashi’s here. Halima, what did you want to talk about?”

Mom: “Me? You were the one saying something.”

Dad: “Right. There are two things. First, about Kaashi—

I spoke to Bashir Bhai today. He said they need some time to discuss things with
his brother. His wife also told your mother they’ll give their final answer soon.
They said not to worry—they’re seriously considering it. But they just want a bit
of time.”

I said, “Whatever they think is right, and whatever you decide, I’ll have no
objections.”

Dad: “That’s what I expected from you. Now the second thing—

Rameen, this is for you. As your mother said this morning, we believe it’s time to
fulfill our responsibility of getting you married. So tell us, if there’s someone you
like, let us know. If not, we’ll look for someone ourselves. If you’re
uncomfortable saying it in front of everyone, tell your mom or Kaashi—whoever
you trust.”

There was a moment of silence. Everyone looked at Rameen Aapi, who sat
quietly with her head down.

(She had always been reserved, the type to accept whatever life gave her.)

After a while, Mom said, “Alright Rameen, if you don’t want to say anything, we’ll
assume we need to start looking ourselves.”

Suddenly, Rameen Aapi spoke in a trembling voice, “Kaashi talked to me about

this a few days ago. I’ve already told him everything. You can ask him.”

Everyone looked at me. It was my turn—to surprise and shock everyone.

Mom: “Kaashi, what did she say to you?”

Kaashi: “Mom, she didn’t say anything—just that she trusts Dad’s decision and
will accept whoever he chooses.”

While saying this, I looked at Aapi. She lifted her eyes—red, filled with anger,
sadness, helplessness, and tears—and stared at me.

I looked back, smiled, and signaled her to stay quiet.

Then Dad said, “Alright son, that means I’ll say yes to Shafiq Bhai for Aamir.”

Hearing that, Aapi was visibly shaken. She looked at me with questioning eyes.

The moment Baba said that, Api’s face lit up, and all those complaints and tears
had now turned into happiness.

I gestured for her to stay quiet.

Maimoona Api spoke, “What do you mean, Baba? Should I say yes to Shafiq
Uncle?”

Baba said, “Actually, the day your mother went to Ibrahim’s house, that same
day Mr. Shafiq came to see me. As usual, I called for tea and we started drinking
it together. While sipping tea, Shafiq began to speak…”

Shafiq: “Salar, I need to talk about something, man.”

Salar: “Go ahead, what is it?”

Shafiq: “Look, I’ll be straightforward. I want our friendship to turn into a family
bond. I’ve come to ask for your elder daughter’s hand for my son. My wife and I
both want this to happen.”

Salar: “I had no idea he’d say something like that, and I couldn’t respond. I just
kept looking at him in surprise.”

Shafiq: “Look, Salar, if you and your family aren’t interested, that’s totally fine.
I’m only expressing what’s in my heart. What you decide is up to you. I’ve said
my piece, and I’ll accept whatever answer you give—our friendship won’t be
affected.”

Salar: “I came to my senses and replied, ‘Shafiq, don’t take this the wrong way—
I just wasn’t expecting something like this. Honestly, I was amazed at God’s
planning because only a few days ago, I was praying for a good proposal for
Rameen. And now look—God made the decision Himself. I truly see goodness in
this, but I still need to consult with others, and most importantly, I need to ask
for my daughter’s consent.’”

Shafiq: “May Allah bless everything with goodness. Of course, the daughter’s
consent comes first. Only if she agrees can things move forward. Right now, I’ve
just shared my thoughts—whatever you decide is fine. We care for Rameen
dearly, and we’ll accept whatever she says.”

Salar: “After that, nothing special was said. He finished his tea and left.”

We were all listening carefully, and I (Kashi) was observing Rameen Api’s
reaction.

She was now blushing at every word, and that hidden happiness was slowly
becoming more visible.

There was silence for a while…

Then Muni asked, “Baba, what happened next?”

Baba: “The next day, I spoke to Kashi and asked about Aamir. I told him
everything and also asked him to speak with Rameen.

Then last night, I talked to your mother—she also agreed. And today she
decided to speak with Rameen.

We followed one of Kashi’s suggestions, which was not to mention the boy
directly but instead to ask Rameen about her preferences first. If she shared
something, great—otherwise we’d go along with whatever she says.

Thankfully, we got to know her feelings through Kashi.”

I interrupted: “Baba, I want to say something.”

Baba: “Yes, son, go ahead.”

I looked toward Rameen Api, and when I started to speak, she gestured for me
to stay quiet.
Well, I didn’t want to tease her much, so I decided to change the subject.

Maimoona Api said: “Why are you looking at Rameen? Say what you want to!”

I said: “Baba, yesterday I talked to Iqra. She invited me and Ammi to her party,
but I refused. Firstly, it was a family function, and secondly, it’s too early for us
to be attending such events—it wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

Baba: “Yes, son, you did the right thing. She’s just a kid—she doesn’t understand
the complexities of relationships. They haven’t even accepted yet, and going
without any formal link isn’t appropriate. You showed good judgment.”

Rameen Api, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke, “What do you mean
by family function?”

I explained to her the traditions and customs of their side.

Then Baba asked Muni and Rameen Api to go make tea, and they left.

Once they were gone, Baba said, “Son Kashi, you were about to say something
earlier but didn’t. Go on, what was it?”

Maimoona Api also said: “Yes, I noticed that too.”

Kashi: “Baba, you told me to talk to Aamir. Well, I met him today, and in our
conversation, I asked what his thoughts were. He told me that he was actually
behind this entire proposal. He likes Rameen Api, and that’s why he’s involved.”

Baba: “That’s great! Now there’s no tension about anything.”

A little later, the tea arrived. I drank it and left the room. I was about to head to
my room but thought—why not talk to Rameen Api and get her reaction?

I sat in the lounge waiting for Api.

After finishing the tea, she came out of the room and walked straight toward me
and hugged me. I had expected that.
She kissed my forehead and said, “Kashi, you’re very clever. What else have you
been hiding from me? Anyway, I don’t get what game you’re playing. Why did
you hide this from me?”

I said: “Let’s talk in your room. Oh, and call Muni too—she might enjoy this.”

Api said: “Alright.”

I went upstairs while Api went to call Muni, who was in the kitchen making
something.

I waited outside her room. She returned, and we went inside. I sat on the sofa,
and Api pulled a chair close and sat near me.

Api: “So Kashi, tell me—how did all this happen, and why did you hide it from
me?”

She spoke in a nanny-like tone, probably because she had seen me talking to
the nanny earlier.

Hearing her tone, I looked at her and asked, “What kind of tone is this? Since
when did you become a nanny?”

Api laughed: “I just felt like doing it, and you know I have to practice now too.”

She lowered her head in shyness.

I burst out laughing. Just then Muni entered, holding a bowl.

Looking at the bowl, I said, “What’s going on? What have you brought at this
hour—and that too in such a large amount?”

Muni: “Actually, there was a birthday at school today. My friend treated us, so I
had lunch there. I wasn’t hungry in the evening, but now I’m starving. I made
noodles. Api said she wanted some too, so I made extra.”

Kashi: “Alright, come sit. I’ll have a few bites too.”

Muni sat next to me on the sofa.

I said: “Muni, do you know what Api is practicing these days?”

Looking at Api with a wink.

Muni: “What practice?”

Me: “Only Api can tell you that.”

Api: “Nothing! He’s just joking.”

Api continued: “Kashi, tell me—why didn’t you tell me that Baba already talked
to you about Aamir’s proposal?”

Me: “Simple. I didn’t want your feelings to remain buried, and you just agree to
Baba’s choice and marry without saying anything. That could’ve caused issues
later. Thankfully, it was Aamir’s proposal. If it were someone else, I’m sure you
would’ve silently agreed and suffered.

Plus, I also wanted to see your surprised, shocked, and angry reaction. That’s
why I stayed quiet.”

Api said: “Honestly Kashi, for a moment you almost killed me when you told
Baba I don’t like anyone. I thought now no one will ever know how I feel. But
when Baba finally spoke to me, I felt alive again.”

Muni, who had been quietly listening while eating noodles, suddenly spoke in
surprise,

Muni: “What do you mean, Api? Why did you feel like dying?”

Me, addressing Api: “Will you explain or should I?”

Api: “You go ahead.”

Me: “Muni, a few days ago, I came to Api’s room to talk on Baba’s behalf. While
chatting, I tried to understand her feelings. Turns out, she’s been crazy about
Aamir since childhood—he’s her prince charming.”
Muni: “Ohh... so that’s what it was! That’s why you told Baba she’d marry
whoever he chose—because you already knew she liked Aamir and that his
proposal had come.”

Kashi: “Exactly. You know Api’s nature. She’d die before expressing her feelings.
That’s why I made this little plan.”

Muni: “Well, Bhai, your plan was great. I noticed Api’s reaction too—her face
turned pale and I saw tears in her eyes.”

Me: “You didn’t even see what happened later! When Baba mentioned Aamir,
Api was so shocked—her face turned red!”

We all laughed.

Api said: “Okay, enough! I’ll really hit both of you now. No shame in teasing your
elder sister!”

We went quiet and started eating noodles calmly.

Muni had made some delicious noodles.

I got mischievous again and winked at Api,

Kashi: “Api, tell me one thing—is it necessary for a bride-to-be to know how to
cook?”

Api: “Not necessary, but it’s good if she can. It makes the husband happy when
his wife cooks for him.”

Kashi: “In my opinion, it’s essential. It’s good for you too—you should start
learning to cook so you can keep Aamir happy.”

Api: “How can I? I’ve never cooked and I don’t even know how.”

Kashi: “Well, Muni knows everything. Do you know what that means, Api?”

Api: “What?”
Kashi: “It means Muni already meets the most important marriage requirement
—cooking. So maybe we should also plan something for her.”

Muni, who was listening while eating noodles, started coughing, and her face
turned red.

Api and I high-fived and laughed.

Seeing us laugh, Muni realized it was my prank and started laughing too.

We kept chatting and teasing each other like that.

After a while, I said,

Me: “Api, I have some good news for you.”

Api: “Tell me then!”

Me: “I met Aamir today. Guess what he said?”

Api: “What did you two talk about?”

Me: “In the evening, I went out to play cricket. Aamir came to the park too. I
thought, why not ask him about his preferences?

We chatted, and when I asked about you, he said—”

Aamir: “Kashi, the thing is, I’ve liked Rameen since childhood. I’m the one who
asked my parents to bring the proposal.”

Api blushed slightly and smiled with joy.

Me: “How was the good news, Api?”

Api: “Shut up, you rascal!”

Her tone made me laugh, and Muni joined in too.

After spending quite a while with Api and the others, I went to my room. I
couldn’t talk to Neni that night—it was already too late.
As soon as I entered my room, I fell asleep.

Chapter One Ends.