The Flight
The evening air at Multan International Airport was filled with a strange mix of excitement and sadness. Soft murmurs of conversations, distant announcements, and the rolling of suitcases created a backdrop to Zoya's turmoil. Inside her, a storm raged—silent yet overwhelming.
She stood at the departure gate with her luggage beside her, surrounded by family and friends gathered for her farewell. She had prepared for this moment for months, yet now that it was here, her heart felt heavier than she had expected.
"Zoya, take care of yourself," her mother said, her warm hands gripping hers tightly. "Eat on time. Stay safe. And never forget your prayers."
Zoya swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "I will, Ammi. Don't worry."
Beside her stood Tariq Bhai, her friend who had always felt like an older brother. He wasn't related by blood, but his concern and protective nature made him feel like family.
"Tariq Bhai, pray for me," she said softly, looking into his eyes.
He frowned slightly, studying her as if trying to grasp something beyond her words. "Of course, Zoya. But what do you mean?"
She hesitated for a moment before replying, choosing her words carefully. "You know, when I spent time with Baba, I always dreamed of achieving a higher degree. I wanted to do something significant."
He nodded.
"But sometimes, life changes your direction. My plans have shifted. Now, I am going to a new world… searching for something."
She didn't explain further. She didn't tell him exactly who or what she was searching for. But the weight of her words seemed to reach him.
Tariq Bhai's expression turned serious. "Zoya, you are stepping into a completely different life. If you ever feel lost, if you ever feel like this path is too difficult, don't hesitate to come back."
She forced a small smile. "I promise."
He didn't hug her— their friendship had always maintained a respectful distance—but he raised his hand and placed it gently on her head. It was a silent blessing, one that she would carry with her as she stepped forward into the unknown.
With a final look at her family and friends, Zoya picked up her bag and walked toward the security check.
"This is not just a journey for education. This is something bigger. Something my heart is leading me toward."
---
On the Plane – A Silent Prayer
The flight to South Korea was long. Too long. It gave Zoya hours to think, hours to overanalyze everything.
She was traveling from Pakistan to Thailand first. From there, she had a connecting flight to Busan, South Korea.
The layover in Thailand was brief, just enough time to switch planes. When she boarded again, the atmosphere inside the flight felt the same—calm yet distant.
She had no idea that someone important had just joined this flight.
Zoya sat by the window, the world outside feeling distant, like an old memory fading away. Her heart was full of emotions—hope, fear, longing. And in that moment, she did what she always did when she felt lost.
She prayed.
In a soft voice, barely above a whisper, she spoke in English—words only meant for Allah.
اللَّهُمَّ اهْدِهِ وَاغْفِرْ لَهُ وَارْحَمْهُ وَاجْعَلِ الإِيمَانَ فِي قَلْبِهِ نُورًا وَهُدًى
Allāhumma ihdihi waghfir lahu warḥamhu waj'alil-īmāna fī qalbihi nūran wa hudā.
O Allah, guide him, forgive him, have mercy on him, and place in his heart the light and guidance of faith.
She didn't realize she was crying until she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, but her voice remained soft, shaky, filled with something deep.
And then, as if fate had planned this moment, she started whispering the lyrics of a song that had changed her heart.
"I'd rather be lost in the dream… than wake up to reality."
The lyrics came out naturally, almost like a prayer themselves.
She had no idea that the person sitting ahead of her had recognized them.
He had heard her soft voice. Heard her quiet prayers.
For a moment, he froze. Confused. Curious. Shocked.
"Who is she?"
The words she spoke were unknown to him, but the pain in her voice, the trembling prayers, and the familiar lyrics made him turn slightly—almost as if he wanted to see who was behind him.
But he didn't.
And Zoya? She had no idea who he was.
---
Arrival in South Korea – An Unexpected Encounter
The moment the plane landed at Gimhae International Airport in Busan, a strange feeling settled in Zoya's heart.
I am here.
She stood up, gathering her things. The person in the seat ahead of her moved as well, hesitating for a moment—perhaps out of curiosity. But she didn't notice. Her heart was too heavy, her mind too lost in emotions.
She adjusted her mask, fixed her headscarf, and pulled on her coat. Her outfit was simple—a long frock that touched her legs, comfortable jogger shoes. She blended into the crowd like just another traveler.
As she stepped out of the plane and into the arrival hall, the air was filled with noise—loud, excited voices, camera flashes.
At first, she ignored it.
But then, something made her turn back.
Her heart stopped.
A massive crowd had gathered, screaming, shouting, pushing to get a closer look at someone.
She couldn't see clearly—but she felt it. A presence that sent shivers down her spine.
"No… It can't be."
The crowd was thick, security tight. But in the middle of it all, a figure moved.
For a brief second, she caught a glimpse of him.
And the world around her froze.
Joen. J.
She couldn't breathe.
"How…? How is he here? This was my flight. Does that mean… he joined from where? But why? Why was he in economy class?"
Before she could process her thoughts, he suddenly stepped out of his security circle.
The fans screamed louder, flashes of cameras blinding the space.
She stood there—paralyzed, frozen in shock.
She didn't move. She couldn't move.
Minutes passed like seconds.
Then—a hand touched her shoulder.
She jolted back to reality, turning quickly.
A man stood before her, holding a sign with her name.
"Miss Zoya?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her heart was still racing, still echoing one name.
Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she asked:
"Where is Joen. J?"
And in that moment, everything changed.
To be continued…
Regards
ZK💌