The hostel corridor was still wrapped in silence as Zoya finished her Fajr prayer.
After making dua, she carefully folded her prayer mat and quietly walked back toward her room.
Although she had risen from the prayer mat...
Her heart was still there.
The conversation she had just shared with Allah lingered within her, bringing a calmness she couldn't quite put into words.
It hadn't answered every question that weighed on her heart.
It hadn't erased the loneliness of being thousands of miles away from home.
But it had reminded her of one thing.
No matter how far life took her...
She was never alone.
Carefully, she opened the door.
The room remained exactly as she had left it.
Ruhi and Hana were still fast asleep, completely unaware that while the world rested, Zoya had already poured her heart out before her Lord.
She quietly placed her prayer mat back into her bag and sat on the edge of her bed.
A faint glow from the streetlights outside slipped through the curtains, softly illuminating the room.
For the first time since arriving in South Korea...
She allowed herself to stop.
To breathe.
To simply think.
Everything had happened so quickly.
Leaving Pakistan.
The long journey.
That unexpected glimpse of Jeon.J at the airport.
Meeting Ruhi and Hana.
And Allah protecting her from unknowingly making a mistake she would have regretted for the rest of her life.
It all felt unreal.
Almost like a dream she hadn't fully woken up from.
She leaned back against the wall and slowly closed her eyes.
This room wasn't home.
The language outside wasn't familiar.
Even the silence felt different.
Yet...
It wasn't as frightening as she had imagined.
Perhaps every new beginning felt this way.
A place remained unfamiliar...
Until little by little...
It quietly became a part of you.
A gentle smile appeared on her lips.
Then, without warning...
A memory drifted into her mind.
Back home...
Her mornings never began in silence.
She never needed to wake herself for Fajr.
There was always someone who made sure she never missed it.
Her mother.
Even now...
She could almost hear that familiar voice.
"اُٹھ جاؤ، فجر کا وقت ختم ہونے والا ہے۔"
"Wake up, the time for Fajr is almost over."
Sometimes, Zoya would pretend she hadn't heard her.
She would pull the blanket over her face, hoping for just five more minutes of sleep.
Her mother would simply smile, gently move the blanket aside, and remind her once again.
There was never frustration in her voice.
Only love.
Back then...
Those mornings had seemed so ordinary.
She never imagined they would one day become the memories she would miss the most.
A tear quietly escaped the corner of her eye.
Distance had a strange way of teaching people the value of moments they once believed would always be there.
Now...
There was no gentle knock on her door.
No familiar voice calling her name.
No comforting warmth waiting just outside her room.
From this day onward...
She would have to wake herself.
Take care of herself.
And learn to build a life in a country that still felt unfamiliar.
It wouldn't be easy.
She knew that.
But every journey demanded patience.
And somewhere deep within her heart...
She believed Allah had brought her here for a reason.
Sleep refused to return.
No matter how many times Zoya closed her eyes...
Her mind remained awake.
With a quiet sigh, she reached for her phone from the bedside table.
The screen lit up the dim room.
Almost without thinking, she opened her Qur'an app.
Ever since she had started memorising the Qur'an, she had made herself a promise.
No matter how busy life became...
She would never leave her daily lesson unfinished.
She tapped the bookmark where she had stopped the previous day and began reciting softly, careful not to disturb Ruhi and Hana.
The familiar verses brought a calmness to her heart.
Each word slowed the racing thoughts in her mind.
She continued reciting...
Until suddenly—
Her eyes paused.
The next verse on the screen read:
وَمِنْ آيَاتِهِ أَنْ خَلَقَ لَكُم مِّنْ أَنفُسِكُمْ أَزْوَاجًا لِّتَسْكُنُوا إِلَيْهَا وَجَعَلَ بَيْنَكُم مَّوَدَّةً وَرَحْمَةً ۚ إِنَّ فِي ذَٰلِكَ لَآيَاتٍ لِّقَوْمٍ يَتَفَكَّرُونَ
"And among His signs is that He created for you spouses from among yourselves so that you may find tranquility in them. And He placed between you affection and mercy. Indeed, in that are signs for a people who reflect."(Surah Ar-Rum 30:21)
For a long moment...
She simply stared at the verse.
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
Out of all the places she could have continued from...
Allah had brought her to these words.
She lowered her gaze.
A warmth settled quietly in her heart.
Perhaps it was only a coincidence.
Or perhaps...
It was one of those moments that only Allah truly understood.
Her fingers gently traced the edge of her phone.
"Ya Allah..."
she whispered.
"If this feeling in my heart is good for me... keep it pure."
"And if it isn't..."
"Then guide my heart towards what pleases You."
A tear rolled silently down her cheek.
She quickly wiped it away and smiled to herself.
"No, Zoya," she whispered softly.
"You've only just arrived."
"There are responsibilities waiting for you."
"Take one step at a time."
"Fix today..."
"So tomorrow becomes easier."
She locked her phone and placed it beside her pillow.
The room was still silent.
Outside...
A new morning was slowly waiting to arrive.
The room gradually grew quieter.
Or perhaps...
It was Zoya's heart that had finally begun to settle.
She rested her head against the wall, her eyes wandering toward the window.
Soon...
A new life would begin.
New classes.
New people.
A new language.
A new country.
Everything around her was unfamiliar.
And yet...
She had chosen this path herself.
There was no turning back now.
A gentle smile touched her lips.
At least...
She didn't have to worry about what she had left behind.
Her mother wasn't alone.
She had her siblings.
She had a home filled with familiar faces, laughter, and love.
Knowing that gave Zoya comfort.
She had left Pakistan with a peaceful heart because she knew her family was safe.
She drew a slow breath.
"Once I settle here..."
"Once I find my footing..."
"The first thing I'll do is apply for Ammi's visa."
The thought warmed her heart.
It wouldn't happen tomorrow.
Or even next month.
She knew these things took time.
But one day...
In shā' Allāh...
She would welcome her mother to South Korea.
She could already picture it.
Her mother looking around in amazement.
Complaining about the weather.
Missing Pakistani food after only two days.
The thought made Zoya laugh quietly.
Then...
Almost as quickly as the smile had appeared...
It faded.
Because there was one dream...
That could never come true.
Her gaze slowly dropped.
There was one person...
Who would never step off a plane.
Never knock on her door.
Never see the life she was trying so hard to build.
A silence settled over the room.
Different from before.
Heavier.
Without saying a word, Zoya leaned forward and unzipped the small pocket of her travel bag.
For a few seconds...
She simply looked inside.
Then, with great care, she took out a neatly folded white handkerchief.
It wasn't expensive.
Nor was it new.
Time had softened its fabric.
She held it gently between her fingers...
As though it were something far more precious than cloth.
Her eyes slowly closed.
A familiar scent still lingered.
Faint.
Almost gone.
Yet enough...
To make her heart ache.
She pressed the handkerchief against her chest.
A single tear slipped silently down her cheek.
Barely above a whisper...
She spoke the words she had never stopped saying.
"My father..."
He could never come here.
Because Allah had already called him to a place far beyond this world.
For a long moment...
She remained exactly where she was.
Holding onto the only thing that still carried a part of him.
The room was silent.
But within that silence...
A daughter quietly missed her father.
Zoya carefully unfolded the handkerchief.
Time had faded its colour a little.
The edges were no longer as neat as they once had been.
But to her...
It was priceless.
She lifted it to her face and closed her eyes.
The familiar fragrance had almost disappeared.
Almost.
Yet there was still enough for her heart to recognize it.
In that single moment...
She wasn't sitting in a hostel room in South Korea anymore.
She was home.
Memories she had tried so hard to keep buried quietly found their way back.
A gentle smile appeared on her lips.
Followed almost immediately by tears.
She kissed the handkerchief softly.
As though it were the only way she could still hold on to him.
"I miss you..."
The words escaped her lips before she even realised she had spoken them.
She tightened her grip on the handkerchief.
"I wish..."
Her voice trembled.
"I wish you could have seen this day."
"You always wanted me to study."
"You always believed I could do something meaningful."
"I made it here..."
Another tear rolled down her cheek.
"But you aren't here to see it."
Silence filled the room once again.
The kind of silence that only grief understands.
After a long while, she looked toward the ceiling.
A peaceful smile slowly replaced the sadness on her face.
"My Allah..."
she whispered.
"Please grant my father the highest place in Jannah."
"Forgive him."
"Have mercy upon him."
"And let us meet again...
where there is no pain...
no separation...
and no farewell."
She held the handkerchief against her heart for a few moments longer.
Then, with the same care she always had, she folded it neatly.
Before placing it back inside her bag.
Not because she wanted to put it away...
But because she carried it with her wherever she went.
It was her way of keeping a part of him close.
She gently wiped away the last of her tears and lay down on the bed.
This time...
Sleep came quietly.
As though her heart had finally allowed itself to rest.
A gentle knock on the door stirred the quiet room.
"Zoya..."
Ruhi's sleepy voice broke the silence.
Zoya slowly opened her eyes.
For a brief moment, she forgot where she was.
Then reality settled in.
South Korea.
The hostel.
A new beginning.
She glanced at the clock.
Almost eleven.
A small smile escaped her lips.
"So much for taking a short nap..."
Ruhi laughed softly.
"I tried waking you earlier, but you looked exhausted."
Hana stretched lazily from the other bed.
"I've decided today is officially a lazy day."
Ruhi rolled her eyes.
"You've been saying that every Sunday."
The three girls laughed.
It was a simple moment.
Yet somehow...
It made the room feel warmer.
After freshening up, they headed toward the university cafeteria for breakfast.
As they walked across the campus, Zoya found herself looking around more carefully than she had the night before.
Students from different countries crossed paths.
Some greeted each other in Korean.
Others spoke English.
A few languages she couldn't even recognise.
Everything around her reminded her that she was far from home.
And that this place...
Would now become part of her life.
After breakfast, Ruhi clapped her hands together.
"Alright."
"Today's mission..."
She pointed at Zoya.
"Helping our newest roommate survive her first week."
Hana nodded dramatically.
"Step one."
"Show her the campus."
"Step two."
"Help her buy the things she'll need."
"And step three..."
She smiled mischievously.
"Teach her how not to get lost."
"I won't get lost," Zoya replied confidently.
Ruhi and Hana exchanged a quick glance before laughing.
"We'll see."
A few hours later...
The three of them were walking through the nearest market.
Everything felt different.
The language.
The shops.
Even the products lining the shelves.
Zoya looked around with quiet curiosity.
Then suddenly...
She stopped walking.
Ruhi turned around.
"What happened?"
Without saying a word, Zoya picked up an electric kettle and placed it into the shopping basket.
Then came tea bags.
Sugar.
Powdered milk.
Finally...
She nodded to herself with complete satisfaction.
Ruhi blinked.
"...That's it?"
Zoya looked at her as though the answer should have been obvious.
"I can survive without many things."
"But not without tea."
Hana laughed.
"Is it really that serious?"
Zoya placed a hand over her heart with complete sincerity.
"You don't understand."
"Tea isn't just tea."
"It's emotional support."
Ruhi burst into laughter.
"I think Pakistan runs on chai."
"It does," Zoya replied proudly.
"And one day..."
She smiled.
"I'll make both of you proper Pakistani chai."
"We'll judge it honestly," Hana teased.
"You'll love it," Zoya answered with confidence.
Watching the excitement on her face over something as simple as tea...
Ruhi and Hana couldn't help smiling.
Sometimes...
Home wasn't a place.
Sometimes...
It was a familiar cup of tea.
The shopping bags swung gently in their hands as the three girls made their way toward a nearby restaurant.
"I'm starving," Hana complained dramatically.
Ruhi laughed.
"You've been saying that since breakfast."
"Because walking around campus and shopping is hard work."
"It was you who insisted on visiting every shop," Ruhi reminded her.
"I was helping Zoya adjust," Hana defended herself with complete seriousness.
"Of course you were."
Zoya couldn't help laughing at their playful argument.
A few minutes later, they stepped inside a small restaurant.
The warm aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air.
Ruhi led the way to an empty table while Hana went to place their order.
When the food finally arrived...
Zoya looked down at her plate.
White rice.
Steamed fish.
A small serving of salad.
And a few pickled side dishes.
She stared at it for several seconds.
Then slowly looked at Ruhi.
Then at Hana.
Her expression said everything.
Ruhi pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
Hana failed.
"What?" Zoya finally asked.
The two of them burst into laughter.
Ruhi tried to compose herself.
"What happened?"
Zoya looked back at the plate.
Then sighed dramatically.
"This..."
She pointed at the fish.
"...is lunch?"
Hana laughed even harder.
"Welcome to Korea."
Zoya rested her forehead lightly against her hand.
"Ruhi..."
"Hmm?"
"If I have to eat this every day..."
She switched to Urdu without even realizing it.
"اگر یہ روز کھانا پڑا، تو میں پاگل ہو جاؤں گی!"
"If this becomes my daily meal, I'm going to go crazy!"
Then she looked back at them and translated with complete seriousness.
"If I have to eat this every day..."
"I'm going to lose my mind."
Ruhi laughed so hard that she nearly dropped her chopsticks.
"I knew this day would come."
Zoya looked helplessly at the plate once more.
"I already miss Pakistani food."
Hana smiled sympathetically.
"It takes time."
"Every international student says the same thing during their first week."
Ruhi nodded.
"And then one day..."
"You'll suddenly find yourself craving Korean food."
Zoya immediately shook her head.
"No."
Both girls laughed again.
"We'll ask you the same question after six months."
Zoya picked up her spoon and looked suspiciously at the fish.
After yesterday's incident in the cafeteria...
She had become extra careful.
Before taking the first bite, she quietly looked at Ruhi.
"This is halal... right?"
Ruhi smiled reassuringly.
"Yes."
"I checked before ordering."
Only then did Zoya take her first bite.
She chewed slowly.
Thoughtfully.
The two girls watched her expectantly.
After a few moments, Hana leaned forward.
"So?"
Zoya swallowed the bite before answering.
"It isn't bad..."
She paused deliberately.
"...but it definitely isn't Pakistani."
That was enough to make all three of them laugh once again.
To Be Continued...
Regards,
ZK 💌