Chapter 3: Unpredictability of life
A Few Months Later – At University
Zahra sat in the university garden with her friend Fajr, tears streaming down her face.
Zahra: “What was that? It was only one presentation! Sir scolded me in front of the entire class. He's never done that before.”
Fajr: “Oh come on, Zahra. Stop crying. These things happen. Maybe he was in a bad mood.”
Zahra: “How am I supposed to forget it? So many students don't give presentations. I missed one, and suddenly it's the end of the world?”
A Few Hours Earlier
Inside the classroom:
Professor Sarwar Mustafa: “Zahra, it's your turn.”
Zahra: “Sir... I... I didn't prepare the presentation. I didn't know.”
Professor Sarwar Mustafa taught Business Administration. He appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old. He had curly black hair, light blue eyes, a tall build, and a neatly trimmed beard.
Despite his young age, he was already a university lecturer, something many found surprising.
He was dressed in a white shirt, black jeans, and black shoes.
Standing before him was Zahra in her black abaya, hijab, niqab, and gloves. Though only her eyes were visible, her nervousness was obvious.
Professor Sarwar: “Miss Zahra, what was your GPA last semester?”
Zahra: “4.0, Sir.”
Professor Sarwar: “And have you decided not to maintain it this semester? Is this your attitude in every class, or have I been granted this special privilege?”
A few students looked amused, others looked surprised.
If anyone was truly miserable at that moment, it was Zahra Ayan Ahmad.
Zahra: “Sir, I...”
Professor Sarwar: “Yes, Miss Zahra? Can't find an excuse?”
His tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
Zahra: “No, Sir. It's not that...”
Without another word, he turned and left.
The class ended shortly afterward, leaving only Zahra and Fajr behind.
And that was why Zahra was now sitting in the garden, hurt not only because she had been scolded, but because she felt he hadn't even listened to her side of the story.
Present Time
Fajr: “Alright, Zahra, stop crying now. Forget about Sir. Since when did you start worrying so much about things like this?”
Even Zahra didn't fully understand why she was so upset. Was it because she had been scolded in front of everyone, or because Professor Sarwar had judged her without listening to her explanation?
Carrying a heavy heart, she returned home and went to her room. After some time, she came downstairs when her mother called her.
At Home
Mrs. Ayan: “Zahra, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Zahra: “Yes, Mom. I'm listening. I always listen to you.”
Mrs. Ayan: “You aren't that obedient.”
Zahra: “Mom, don't praise me so much. I'll get embarrassed.”
Mrs. Ayan: “Zahra, I'm serious.”
For the first time, Zahra felt that something was genuinely wrong.
Mrs. Ayan: “I want you to stop Hadi from going abroad.”
Zahra: “Mom, nobody is happy about his decision. But you know how stubborn he is.”
As soon as she said this, tears filled Mrs. Ayan's eyes.
Zahra felt as though someone had squeezed her heart.
Zahra: “Mom... please don't cry.”
Mrs. Ayan: “First Kashaf was here. I could share everything with her. Then Hadi stayed with me. If he leaves too, I'll be all alone.”
For a brief moment, Zahra's face lost all color.
She wanted to say:
“Mom, I'm here. I'll always be with you.”
But the words never left her lips.
Why should she claim a place that had never been offered to her?
That was how Zahra was. She could be stubborn over small matters, but when it came to the things that truly hurt, she remained silent.
After comforting her mother, she returned to her room.
She knew nobody would comfort her.
That responsibility belonged to her alone.
Once again, Zahra Ayan Ahmad's pillow absorbed countless tears. The wind carried away the sounds of her sobs.
Her heart felt unbearably heavy.
Sadness, pain, loneliness—all of it weighed upon her.
Whenever people seek peace, they turn to a trusted friend.
Zahra did the same.
She performed ablution, spread her prayer mat, and sat before the One she trusted most.
Her words broke between tears, but the One she spoke to understood every unspoken feeling.
A Few Days Later
Zahra and Fajr were sitting in a café.
In her pink abaya, white hijab, white niqab, and matching gloves, Zahra looked almost ethereal.
Zahra: “I'm sending my luggage to your house.”
Fajr: “Really? How did you convince your mother?”
Fajr knew very well that Zahra's mother disliked girls traveling alone.
Their university group was planning a four-day trip to Islamabad, and they were discussing whether Zahra would be allowed to go.
Zahra: “Forget it. I somehow got permission.”
Two Days Earlier
Zahra sat beside her father, trying to persuade him.
Ayan Ahmad was a man in his fifties. He had strong features, dark eyes, a lightly graying beard, and short white hair.
A scar above his right eye remained from the accident years ago—a scar that always reminded Zahra of that painful time.
Both Zahra and Hadi resembled their father.
He always carried a gentle smile, though his personality commanded respect.
Zahra's dignity and Hadi's good looks were gifts inherited from him.
Zahra: “Baba, you're my best friend, right? Please help me convince Mom.”
Ayan Ahmad: “My dear, even I have no influence when it comes to your mother.”
Zahra turned toward Hadi, who was busy with his phone.
Zahra: “Hadi, you convince her. Mom listens to you. Only girls are going, and I'll keep calling home.”
Hadi: “And what do I get in return?”
Zahra: “What do you want?”
Hadi: “Simple. Praise me properly and call me 'Hadi Bhai.'”
Zahra: “You're asking for too much.”
Hadi: “Then I'm not helping.”
Zahra: “Baba! He's annoying me.”
Ayan Ahmad: “Come on, Zahra. Praise your brother. No one else does. Let the poor guy be happy for once.”
Ayan Ahmad said with a laugh.
Finally, Zahra began listing Hadi's "qualities"—most of which he didn't actually possess.
Every compliment made Hadi look more offended, while their father laughed harder.
In the end, Zahra somehow managed to get permission for the trip.
The Day of the Trip
Early that morning, Zahra sat on her prayer mat.
She was talking to Allah, asking for guidance and reassurance.
Zahra: “Allah, are You upset with me? This time I didn't receive any sign. It's the first time I'm traveling alone, especially when Kashaf is coming home. I don't even feel like going anymore. I wish something would happen so I wouldn't have to go.”
She didn't know that some prayers come with a very heavy price.
The Morning of Departure
Kashaf was returning to Pakistan for the first time after her marriage, and Zahra's heart was not fully in the trip.
Still, she got ready for university.
She wore her usual black abaya, a black hijab, and her niqab styled in her familiar graceful manner. As always, she carried herself with dignity and confidence.
Coming downstairs, she picked up her university bag and met her mother.
Mrs. Ayan handed her another bag filled with food and drinks.
Zahra: “Mom, they have food there.”
Mrs. Ayan: “If there's a delay, eat something. And keep calling me. Give me Fajr's number too.”
Zahra: “Mom, it's not like I'm going to prison.”
She smiled.
“And there isn't a famine there either.”
Sometimes words spoken casually become reality, though Zahra did not realize it at the time.
Often, by the time people understand the meaning of their words, the damage has already been done.
Hadi: “Are you leaving without even taking your luggage?”
Zahra: “Dear Hadi, I already sent it to Fajr's house.”
After saying goodbye to everyone, Zahra left for university.
The entire group was supposed to travel directly from the university to Islamabad.
At the University
Classes were underway when a teacher asked Zahra to bring something from the laboratory.
The lab was on another floor, an area where students rarely went.
As she climbed the stairs, she noticed Professor Sarwar Mustafa coming toward her.
He was dressed in a white shalwar kameez and brown shoes.
As usual, he looked remarkably handsome.
He stopped in front of her.
Professor Sarwar: “Zahra, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that the other day. I'm sorry.”
For a moment, Zahra was surprised.
Zahra: “It's okay, Sir. But you were wrong.”
Honesty was one of Zahra's greatest qualities.
It made her different from many others.
Professor Sarwar simply nodded.
“Okay.”
Then he walked away.
As Zahra continued climbing the stairs, she muttered to herself:
“'Okay'? What kind of response is that? He should have explained himself. He should have apologized properly.”
Still grumbling, she entered the laboratory and collected the item she had been sent to retrieve.
As she turned to leave, she heard something.
A voice.
Someone seemed to be calling her name.
At first it was faint.
Then it became clearer.
She tried to ignore it, but curiosity pulled her toward the sound.
The voice seemed to be coming from a room that was usually locked.
Today, however, its door stood open.