𝘗𝘺𝘢𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘡𝘢𝘪𝘥,

𝘒𝘢𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘪 𝘮𝘶𝘫𝘩𝘦... 𝘬𝘢𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘢𝘺𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘫𝘩𝘴𝘦. 𝘏𝘶𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘪 𝘩𝘶𝘦 𝘡𝘢𝘪𝘥? 𝘒𝘺𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪 𝘮𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘪𝘯 𝘬𝘰𝘪 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪? 𝘔𝘦𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪 𝘬𝘺𝘢? 𝘛𝘶𝘮 𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘺𝘦 𝘡𝘢𝘪𝘥... 𝘛𝘶𝘮𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘬𝘪 𝘵𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘢𝘰𝘨𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘢𝘴, 𝘮𝘶𝘫𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘰𝘨𝘦... 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘮 𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘪 𝘢𝘢𝘺𝘦. 𝘈𝘣 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘢...?

-Noor

—

I clutched the letter with trembling hands as I read the words. My vision blurred, tears falling before I could stop them. The heaviness in my chest turned into aching sobs that echoed in the silence of my room. I sank into the chair, helpless, defeated. Every word she wrote carried the weight of a thousand moments we once shared.

My mind started spiraling into the past, each memory unfolding like a reel on rewind.

—

𝙋𝘼𝙎𝙏

University life had been silent for me. I had stayed under the radar, unnoticed and unbothered. It had been a year since I enrolled, and anonymity suited me. I didn’t crave attention, in fact, I detested the spotlight. That morning had started like any other. The same lectures, the same quiet hallways.

Until she came.

"Ayesha," I muttered under my breath. My cousin. A familiar face in the crowd.

Ayesha: "Zaid, meri class mein ek ladki hai... tumhein pasand karti hai."

Me: "Mujhe is sab mein koi dilchaspi nahi hai."

I turned to walk away, but she caught my wrist firmly.

Ayesha: "Bas ek baar mil lo... sirf ek baar. Agar pasand na aaye toh dobara kabhi usse mat milna. Please, Zaid..."

Her pleading eyes softened me. With a reluctant nod, I agreed to meet the girl the next day at the cafeteria.

—

Next Day

I stood in front of the mirror for longer than usual. I chose my black kurta, simple yet elegant. It was the only one that felt like me. After making sure everything looked in place, I grabbed my bag and walked downstairs.

In the dining room, Ammi was serving breakfast to Abu and Salim.

I joined them quietly until Salim broke the silence.

Salim: "Bhaijaan, aaj kuch zyada tayar toh nahi lag rahe?"

Me: "Apna khana khaya karo aur school jao. Waqt zaya mat karo faltu baaton mein."

I got up, picked up my keys, and walked out.

—

The university felt different that day. The usual noise seemed distant as my thoughts kept drifting back to her. Why would someone like me? What did she see in me? My curiosity grew stronger with every passing hour.

When lunch finally arrived, my friends caught wind of my plan and couldn’t resist teasing me. Soon, I was left alone at the designated table, awkwardly adjusting my sleeves, trying not to seem nervous.

Ten minutes passed.

And then I heard it, Ayesha calling my name.

She walked towards me with a few of her friends. At the center of their small circle was her.

A girl in white.

—

Time stopped.

There was something ethereal about her. It felt like every love song ever written was meant for that one moment, for her. The way her dupatta swayed in the soft breeze, how her eyes remained on the floor, a shy smile teasing her lips as her friends whispered and laughed around her.

And then-

She looked up.

For a second, our eyes met. Hazel eyes. Deep, gentle, unsure. A flicker of emotion danced across her face before she looked away. But that one moment... it was enough.

Enough to shake my heart from its slumber.

Mashallah, I whispered under my breath.

She sat beside me, quiet, graceful, her eyes fixed on the floor, and a soft, almost unreadable smile gracing her lips. There was a sanctity in her face like something divine. I could’ve looked at her forever and still not have had enough.

And then she spoke.

Noor: “Aapka naam Zaid hai, haina?”

Her voice. Sweet. Soft. Musical. I had never heard anything that sounded so perfect. That one sentence was enough to send a ripple through my chest.

Me: “Ji... aur aapka?”

Noor: “Mera naam Noor hai.”

Me: “Aapko... kuch kehna tha?”

Noor: “Woh... main-main aapko pasand karti hoon.”

She glanced at her friends and then back at me, just briefly. Then, all of a sudden, she giggled, breaking whatever sincerity lingered in the air.

Noor: “Yahan mera dare poora hua... main aapko pasand nahi karti. Ye toh dare tha. I’m really sorry. Ayesha ne kaha tha ke main aapko pasand nahi aaungi, is liye maine dare mein aapko tajuz (propose) kar diya.”

For a second, I didn’t move. The air around me went still. My heartbeat slowed.

Of course. How could someone like her actually like someone like me?

Before I could say anything, she stood up and ran back to her group of friends, laughing. Ayesha came and took the seat Noor had left behind. She looked at me, concerned.

Ayesha: “Zaid... tumhe pasand toh nahi aayi na?”

Me: “Kyun?”

Ayesha: “Woh... woh kisi aur ko pasand karti hai.”

Me: “Mujhe usse kya? Mujhe toh kuch khaas nahi lagi.”

Ayesha breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back into the chair.

Ayesha: “Shukar hai. Vaise, tumhare madah (admirers) kam nahi hain. Yahin aas-paas ghoomte rehte hain.”

Me: “Mujhe nahi jaana.”

I got up, but she caught my hand, her grip hesitant yet desperate.

Ayesha: “Tum kabhi dekhte kyun nahi, Zaid? Tumhe main kitna pasand karti hoon...”

Her voice cracked at the edges, her eyes now brimming with an ache I hadn't noticed before. And I, weak to emotions, didn’t want to wound her heart further. I gently held her hand back, my words careful.

Me: “Tumhe toh pata hi hai... khandaan mein sirf hum dono ke nikkah ki baatein hoti rehti hain. Mujhe bhi abhi koi pasand nahi...”

Ayesha’s face lit up, her eyes shimmering with a hope I didn’t intend to offer. She had probably already pictured herself in bridal red beside me. But I hadn’t. Still, I didn’t have the courage to shatter that vision.

Ayesha: “I’m glad... ke humare walidain rishtedaar hain.”

Me: “I’m not.”

She laughed nervously and ran off toward her group, leaving behind silence and a strange taste of guilt in my mouth.

—

I made my way to class. Moments later, my best friend Omar entered, full of energy, his smirk already revealing he knew.

Omar: “Kaisa raha?”

Me: “Kya kaisa?”

Omar: “Meet-up?”

Me: “Dare mila tha usse mujhe propose karne ka. Ayesha ke kehne pe kiya.”

Omar’s face dropped. Then he chuckled bitterly.

Omar: “Gussa nahi aaya?”

Me: “Kis baat ka?”

Omar: “Abdullah ne sabko bata diya ke tum kisi ladki ke saath cafeteria mein date pe thay.”

He burst out laughing.

Me: “Acha?”

Omar: “Tumhare liye acha hoga agar tum badla lo. Aise kaise woh sabke saamne tumhari feelings ka mazak uda sakti hai? Usse kya haq hai tumhare jazbaat ke saath khelne ka?”

I paused. His words made sense. She did humiliate me, intentionally or not. It wasn’t about pride, it was about the pain I had buried behind my silence.

Me: “Sahi keh rahe ho Omar... kuch toh karna chahiye. Lekin... kya?”

Omar leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Omar: “Mere paas ek mansubah hai. Agar tum chaho... toh hum usse usi k jazbaat ke dariya mein dooba dein.”

Me: “Kya... karna kya hai?”

Omar: “Usse mohabbat mein phansa lo.”

Me: “Lekin... woh toh kisi aur ko pasand karti hai.”

Omar: “Fikr mat karo, bhaijaan. Uska poora bio-data nikaal lunga main.”

Me: “Theek hai.”

That was all I said.

But in that one theek hai, something inside me shifted.

This wasn’t love. This was now something else entirely.

A month had passed since that strange cafeteria encounter, the one that had left me humiliated and quiet for days. But now, things had changed.

Omar and I sat at our usual corner in the university cafeteria. We had our eyes on the entrance. Omar leaned toward me and whispered the latest news.

Omar: “Noor ki shaadi fix ho gayi hai. 6 mahine baad nikkah hai. Par fikar mat kar, humare paas kaafi waqt hai usse pyaar mein girane ke liye... aur phir...”

I knew exactly what he meant. Make her fall for me, just so I could leave her, mocked and bruised.

The plan had begun.

As Ayesha entered with her group, she spotted me from afar and immediately rushed toward us. Before she could reach, Omar stepped in with his signature flair.

Omar: “Arey arey, kahan bhaage jaa rahi hain aap, mohatarma?”

Ayesha: “Apne hone wale shohar ke paas.”

Omar: “Main abhi nikkah ke liye tayyar nahi hoon... kuch waqt ka intezaar kar lijiye, phir main aapka ho jaunga.”

Ayesha burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but chuckle too.

Omar: “Kya baat hai? Maine koi mazaak kiya kya?”

Ayesha: “Bilkul haan.”

Omar: “Kya?”

Ayesha: “Tumse kaun nikkah karega, bandar? Main toh Zaid ki baat kar rahi thi.”

Her friends laughed in sync. But amidst the laughter, my eyes had already found her, Noor. She stood slightly apart from the others, dressed in a soft blue that made her glow like the first light of dawn. She was laughing too, the kind of laugh that felt unbothered, untouched, beautiful.

Angel lag rahi thi.

She hadn’t noticed me until our eyes locked, for a brief second. But she quickly looked away. That subtle rejection reignited the ember in me.

I stood and walked toward her, determined.

Me: “Hi.”

She ignored me.

Me (a little louder): “Hello?” (waving my hand)

Noor: “Kya chahiye?”

Me: “Toh aap aise baat karti hain... kisi ke saath mazaak karne ke baad?”

Noor: (chuckling sarcastically) “Kyun? Aapko main pasand aa gayi?”

Me: “Tum? Haan, bilkul... kya kami hai tum mein?”

Noor: “Oh hello. Main koi aisi-waisi nahi hoon. Main kisi bhi aira-gaira, natthu-gaira ko date nahi karti.”

Me: “Main bhi koi aira-gaira nahi hoon, samjhi? Ahtiraam karo, badday hoon tumse.”

Noor: “Main ne aapko kuch kaha hi kab? Bas bataya. Aapko kya laga?”

She laughed again. But this time, she stepped a little closer.

Noor: “Aap dikhne mein itne bure bhi nahi... lekin aap mujhe pasand nahi aaye.”

Me: “Ek mauqa toh do. Jab pasand na aao, tab kehna.”

She leaned in even more. Her voice dropped to a whisper, just for me.

Noor: “Chaliye diya. Kal se main aapki...Lekin ek shart hai, hum ek doosre ko chhooyenge nahi. Aapke paas waqt hai apne aapko sabit karne ka. Lekin ek mard ki tarah, koi najayaz faida nahi uthana.”

Her eyes didn’t blink. Her expression was serious. I nodded.

Me: “Theek hai. Kal hi milunga... cafeteria mein?”

Noor: “Kal milungi. Allah Hafiz.”

She turned away and called for Ayesha, who was still arguing with Omar. The girls left. I returned to my seat, still processing what just happened.

Omar looked at me, expectant.

Me: “Mujhe mil gayi kal... aur usne shart bhi rakh di.”

Omar: “Ab khel shuru hoga, bhaijaan.”

—

𝙉𝙤𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙋𝙊𝙑

Shabnam: “Noor... tum Zaid se kya baat kar rahi thi?”

Me: “Kyun? Tumhe kyun jaan’na hai?”

Shabnam exhaled deeply and crossed her arms.

Shabnam: “Chalo, main tumse saaf-saaf keh deti hoon... main Zaid ko pasand karti hoon.”