Brigadier Imran Ahmed, Zuhra's father, was a high-ranking and highly respected officer in the Indian Army. He was stationed at the barracks in the major city of Pune — far from Hyderabad, where his family lived. Imran was a strict, principled man who valued discipline above all else. As a soldier, he had endured the harshness of the battlefield and earned his status through sacrifice and perseverance. But there was one thing he cherished more than anything — his dream of seeing his daughter become a doctor.
Zuhra was his first child, raised with love and deep attention. But the shift in her attitude and her growing passion for music had thrown him into confusion. Ever since he left them in Hyderabad, his peace of mind regarding her upbringing had crumbled. Secret reports had started reaching him — from trusted friends and military informants — about changes in Zuhra's behavior, her public appearances in competitions and musical performances.
But today, the situation reached its peak.
That morning, he walked into his office calmly, but he could feel the mocking stares and smirks from some of his colleagues. He said nothing, just took his seat — the same one used to bearing the weight of national commands. Moments later, his personal assistant entered hesitantly, scratching the side of his head as though already regretting the news.
> "Sir… there's something you need to see," he said, handing over a newspaper.
Imran snatched it quickly. The front page blazed with a bold headline:
> "Daughter of Civil Authority Head Participates in Singing Competition at Wuje Ranchi — Praised, Criticized!"
Beneath the headline was a full-color photo of Zuhra standing on stage in a dance costume, smiling brightly with decorative money flowers scattered around her feet.
Brigadier Imran's heart cracked. His face changed. He didn't need to read the full story — he didn't need further explanation. His eyes clouded for a moment, then flared with fury.
He jumped to his feet, breathing heavily, gripping his head with both hands in disbelief.
> "She mocks me! In India! It's in the papers!"
He sat down heavily, staring at the image of Zuhra like he could burn through the paper. In his heart, one phrase repeated itself over and over:
> "I said doctor… but she chose singing! I forbade it… and still she disobeyed!"
Then his resolve returned. In under two minutes, he barked an order:
> "Prepare the car. I'm going home. Now!"
The heart of a soldier had spoken. He would not allow the discipline and upbringing he had labored to build to collapse. She was his daughter — but that would not stop him from taking action. He would return home himself… to fix what he believed had been broken.
Meanwhile, Zuhra… was somewhere unaware of the storm her father was bringing with him.