Scene 1 — Rimsha's Call: A Fresh Beginning
The night was calm, a light summer breeze carrying the distant hum of traffic through the open window of Rimsha's bedroom. She had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan whirling lazily, thinking about the past week. The fever had finally broken. Her body felt lighter, her head clearer, her steps steadier.
She picked up her phone from the side table, scrolled through the contacts, and tapped on Imran's name. After two rings, his familiar voice answered.
"Assalam o Alaikum, Rimsha. How are you now?"
"Wa Alaikum Assalam," Rimsha replied with a faint smile. "I'm feeling much better, Alhamdulillah. Actually… I was calling to tell you that I'll be coming back to work tomorrow morning."
There was a pause, followed by an unmistakable warmth in his tone.
"That's the best news I've heard today. You've no idea how quiet the Superstore feels without you. Everyone's been asking when you'll return."
Rimsha chuckled softly. "It's just been a few days, Imran. You make it sound like I've been gone for months."
"Trust me, in retail management, even one day without the owners feels like forever. Tomorrow, I'll make sure your desk is neat and waiting."
Her heart softened at his words, though she kept her tone professional. "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning then."
"Goodnight, Rimsha," Imran said gently. "And please don't overthink tonight. Just rest. Tomorrow will be a good day."
"Goodnight," she replied, ending the call. A small contentment settled in her chest.
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Scene 2 — City School Grounds: Independence Preparations Begin
It was the morning of 3rd August. The City School campus buzzed with energy, its courtyard decorated with half-hung buntings of green and white. A banner read in bold letters: "Preparations for Independence Day — 14th August."
Children in crisp uniforms scattered across the courtyard, classrooms, and hallways. Teachers stood in clusters, organizing groups, reminding students of their roles.
In one corner of the hall, a small group of Class 3 students stood, notebooks in hand. Among them was Ubaid, his face determined, eyes fixed on the paper he held. He was preparing for his speech.
Miss Ayesha, their English teacher, clapped her hands to gather attention.
"Children, remember — a speech isn't just words. You must deliver it with confidence, with pride. Ubaid, why don't you try first?"
Ubaid stepped forward, placed the paper aside, and took a deep breath.
"Respected Principal, teachers, and my dear fellows. Assalam o Alaikum," he began, his voice slightly shaky at first but growing stronger. "Today, I stand before you to speak about the sacrifices our elders made for Pakistan…"
The children listened quietly. A few whispered lines under their breath, rehearsing their parts. Miss Ayesha nodded approvingly.
"Well done, Ubaid. Just keep your voice a little louder, and remember to smile at the end. It shows confidence."
Ubaid's chest swelled with pride. He looked over and spotted Irfan in another group, waving his hand excitedly.
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Scene 3 — The Tablo Rehearsals
On the far side of the school ground, a large speaker played national songs. Dozens of students from different classes stood in rows, rehearsing for the patriotic tablo performance. Their arms moved in synchronized gestures, waving green and white scarves.
Irfan, in his Class 1 uniform, stood in the second row. His small hands clutched the green ribbon he was supposed to wave. He mouthed the words of the song with enthusiasm, though he occasionally looked at his classmates to copy their moves.
Miss Erum, the duty teacher, clapped to the beat.
"Left hand up, right hand forward! No, no, Irfan — not that fast! Try again. Good, much better!"
Irfan giggled as he corrected himself. A boy beside him whispered, "You're moving like a robot!"
Irfan whispered back, "At least I'm not forgetting the steps like you."
Both laughed until Miss Erum raised an eyebrow. "Boys! Focus!"
The group rehearsed again, this time with more discipline. When the chorus of the song came, all students raised their scarves together, forming a sea of green and white. Teachers watching from the sidelines clapped in encouragement.
"Excellent!" Miss Erum said. "With eleven more days, we will perfect this. Remember, you're not just performing — you're honoring the spirit of Pakistan."
Irfan's chest swelled with pride. He thought of Ubaid giving his speech and imagined both of them shining on stage together.
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Scene 4 — Behind the Scenes
In the art room, another set of students worked on posters and flags. The smell of markers and glue filled the air. Paint-stained fingers waved small flags proudly.
One girl announced, "We're drawing Minar-e-Pakistan in green glitter!"
Another boy argued, "No, Quaid-e-Azam's portrait should be in the center!"
The art teacher intervened with a smile. "Both are important — let's make two posters. Divide the work."
Children nodded and bent back to their tasks.
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Scene 5 — Ubaid and Irfan's Moment
The lunch break arrived. Ubaid and Irfan met near the playground, their faces flushed from their separate rehearsals.
"How was the tablo?" Ubaid asked, biting into his sandwich.
"Fun! I get to wave ribbons like a sword," Irfan replied proudly. "How was your speech practice?"
Ubaid puffed out his chest. "I spoke in front of the whole group. Miss Ayesha said I just need to be louder. You'll see — I'll make everyone clap."
Irfan grinned. "Then I'll dance extra strong, and together we'll make Mama proud."
Their laughter echoed across the playground. For them, the Independence Day function wasn't just a school activity — it was a chance to stand tall, to show their small but mighty love for their country.
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Scene 6 — Teachers' Discussion
Later that afternoon, in the staffroom, the teachers gathered with notepads and tea. Principal Mrs. Uzma Rashid entered, her presence commanding but warm.
"How are preparations going?" she asked, taking a seat.
Miss Ayesha replied, "The speeches are coming along nicely. Ubaid, from Class 3, is particularly impressive. He's memorized almost half already."
"And the tablo?" Mrs. Uzma asked.
Miss Erum smiled. "The children are enthusiastic. A few slip-ups, but that's normal at this stage. With practice, they'll shine on the 14th."
Mrs. Uzma nodded. "Good. Independence Day is not just about celebration; it is about teaching them values — unity, faith, and discipline. Make sure they understand that."
The teachers agreed, making notes to weave short lessons into every rehearsal.
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Scene 7 — Evening Reflection
At home that evening, Ubaid stood before the mirror, reciting his speech line by line. Irfan danced with his ribbon beside him, humming the national song. Their mother, Maryam, watched with a smile from the doorway.
"Boys," she said gently, "remember, your performance isn't just about looking good. It's about feeling proud of your country. Speak from the heart, Ubaid. And Irfan, dance like you mean every word of the song."
Both boys nodded eagerly.
Maryam kissed their foreheads. "You'll make me proud, Insha'Allah. And remember, even small efforts can carry the weight of big dreams."
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Scene 8 — The Return of Rimsha
Meanwhile, Rimsha ironed her clothes for the next morning. Her fever was gone, her strength returned, and her mind filled with anticipation. She thought of the Superstore, of Maryam, of the staff — and, despite herself, of Imran, whose worried calls had carried her through the lonely days.
As she folded her scarf neatly on the chair, she whispered to herself:
"Tomorrow will be a fresh start."
And with that thought, both the children preparing for their school function and Rimsha preparing for her return to work carried a shared sense of new beginnings.
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End of Chapter