Scene 1 — Morning Energy at Amana Superstore
The morning sunlight filtered through the large glass windows of Amana Superstore, bouncing off shelves stacked neatly with merchandise. The store had an unusual vibrancy that day. Rimsha, dressed in a green kurta with a white dupatta draped neatly over her shoulder, stood in the middle of the Ladies Palace Department with her team of female workers.
"Alright girls," she clapped her hands, smiling warmly. "Today we're decorating the store for Independence Day. Balloons, flags, buntings — everything must scream green and white. Let's make our customers feel the celebration as soon as they enter."
One of the young cashiers, Sadia, held up a bag of balloons.
"Madam, should we start from the entrance or clothing racks?"
Rimsha thought for a moment, her finger tapping her chin.
"Entrance first. That's the first impression. After that, spread out to every department. Don't leave a single corner empty."
The women nodded eagerly. Soon the air filled with the sound of balloons popping against fingers, tape pulling off rolls, and laughter echoing between aisles. Small Pakistani flags were taped to checkout counters, while green-and-white buntings were draped across racks of clothes.
Rimsha herself climbed a small step ladder and carefully hung a long banner above the men's formal wear section. It read in bold, festive letters:
"Celebrate Freedom with Style — 14% Discount Till Independence Day!"
As she stepped down, wiping her forehead with her dupatta, another worker, Nida, giggled shyly.
"Madam, will this discount apply to us too?"
The other girls laughed softly, waiting for Rimsha's response.
She looked at them firmly but kindly.
"No, not this one. That's only for customers. For our employees, it's even better — you get 20% off."
The women's faces lit up. Before they could cheer too loudly, Rimsha raised a finger.
"But there's a condition. This discount is strictly for employees only. No relatives, no friends, no sharing. Agreed?"
"Yes, Madam!" they chorused together, their smiles wide.
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Scene 2 — Imran Observes
From a short distance away, Imran leaned against a display shelf, arms crossed, quietly watching the scene unfold. His sharp eyes followed Rimsha as she directed her staff with calm authority and a touch of warmth.
When the workers dispersed to continue hanging flags and balloons, he walked toward her, adjusting his tie.
"Rimsha," he said in a low but serious tone. "Can I have a word with you in the office?"
She raised an eyebrow, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course. Give me two minutes to finish with these buntings."
Within a few moments, they were seated in the glass-walled office overlooking the store floor. The hum of customers, workers, and background music faintly filled the room.
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Scene 3 — The Office Discussion
Imran leaned forward on the desk, his expression thoughtful.
"I noticed you told the staff they'll get 20% discount. Don't you think 15% would have been enough? We still have to manage profit margins."
Rimsha adjusted her dupatta and met his gaze steadily.
"I thought about that. But listen, Imran — our employees are the backbone of this store. If they feel rewarded, they'll serve customers with more energy. A little extra discount is an investment in their loyalty."
Imran sighed, tapping a pen against the desk.
"You're not wrong. But still, it's a thin line between generosity and over-spending. What if the workers misuse it?"
She smiled softly. "That's why I gave them clear instructions not to share it with outsiders. And I trust them. Sometimes, trust gives better results than rules."
For a moment, silence filled the office. Imran studied her, noticing the quiet conviction in her tone.
"You always surprise me," he admitted finally, leaning back. "Maybe you're right. Sometimes I get too strict about numbers."
Rimsha chuckled lightly. "That's why we balance each other out. You think about margins; I think about people. Together, the Superstore stays strong."
His lips curved into a faint smile. "Fair enough. But remember, if our sales report dips, I'll remind you about this conversation."
"And if it grows," Rimsha countered playfully, "I'll remind you instead."
They both laughed quietly before heading back to the floor.
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Scene 4 — City School: Rising Preparations
At City School, the campus buzzed louder than ever. The rehearsals for Independence Day had entered the next stage.
In the auditorium, Class 3 students practiced speeches on the podium. Ubaid stood in line, revising his lines under his breath. His friend, Hamza, nudged him.
"Nervous?"
Ubaid shook his head firmly. "No. I just want to say it louder this time. Miss Ayesha said I must sound like I believe every word."
Hamza grinned. "You'll nail it. I'm sure of it."
On the stage, another student finished his speech, and Miss Ayesha called out, "Next — Ubaid Arain!"
Ubaid walked up, his small shoes echoing on the wooden stage. He adjusted the microphone.
"Respected Principal, teachers, and my dear friends," he began with new confidence, "Pakistan is not just land. It is our identity, our pride, and our home. And we must protect it with honesty, hard work, and love…"
His voice carried across the hall. Teachers nodded approvingly, while classmates clapped politely at the end. Miss Ayesha smiled broadly.
"Excellent improvement, Ubaid! This is exactly how you must deliver it on the 14th."
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Scene 5 — Irfan's Tablo Rehearsal
Meanwhile, in the playground, the group for the patriotic tablo stood in rows, scarves fluttering in the breeze. Irfan bounced on his heels, eager for his turn.
"Music start!" Miss Erum shouted.
The loudspeaker burst into the national song, and the children moved in harmony. Irfan's small hands waved his ribbon with vigor. He sang the lyrics aloud, not caring if his pitch went up or down. His smile lit his face, and the teachers laughed softly at his enthusiasm.
"Very good, Irfan," Miss Erum praised. "Keep that energy. It's contagious."
When the song ended, the children panted but clapped for themselves.
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Scene 6 — Teachers' Meeting with Principal Uzma
In the staffroom later, Principal Mrs. Uzma Rashid gathered her teachers. She sat with her notepad, pen poised.
"How are the preparations shaping?" she asked.
Miss Ayesha replied, "The speeches are strong. Ubaid is excelling, and I think he could be one of the main speakers for the program."
Miss Erum added, "The tablo group is energetic. With more rehearsals, they'll be polished."
Mrs. Uzma nodded, her tone approving. "Good. Remember, our goal is not only performance but to instill patriotism. Every child must understand why we celebrate this day."
"Yes, Madam," the teachers agreed.
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Scene 7 — Evening at Amana Superstore
Back at Amana Superstore, the decorations were almost complete. Customers entering the store paused in delight at the sea of green and white. Children tugged at their mothers' hands, pointing at balloons shaped like crescent and star.
A young couple whispered excitedly when they saw the discount banner.
"14% off till Independence Day? That's perfect for shopping," the woman said.
Imran noticed from afar and leaned toward Rimsha, who was arranging scarves at the display.
"See? Your banner's already working."
She gave him a knowing smile. "I told you. Sometimes, people care more about the feeling of being valued than the exact percentage."
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Scene 8 — Nighttime Reflections
That night, Ubaid practiced his speech again in front of the mirror at home, while Irfan hummed his song, twirling his ribbon around. Maryam watched, her heart swelling with pride.
At the same time, Rimsha sat at her desk in her apartment, flipping through the day's sales sheets. She thought about Imran's concern earlier and smiled faintly.
"He's always cautious," she murmured. "But maybe that's why we work so well together."
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End of Chapter