A New Beginning
Zoya's heart was still racing as she turned back, her eyes searching through the crowd that had gathered. But just as suddenly as it had begun, the storm faded. The noise died down, the people dispersed, and the airport returned to its normal rhythm. Yet, inside her, a storm had just begun.
She stood frozen, her mind struggling to grasp what had just happened. It felt surreal, as if for a moment, the universe had shifted, and now everything was still again—except for the chaos in her heart. The university representative was still standing beside her, holding the board with her name. He looked at her, confused by her question.
"Where is Jeon.J?"
His brows furrowed slightly, and he hesitated as if unsure what to say. That hesitation… it made her heart pound harder. She opened her mouth to ask again, but then she stopped herself. What was she doing? Was she really about to chase an answer she wasn't prepared for?
Taking a deep breath, she forced her emotions down and turned back to the representative.
"Sorry," she said quickly, shaking her head. "Let's go."
He gave a small nod and gestured toward the exit. Zoya followed, gripping her shoulder bag tightly, trying to steady her thoughts. As they stepped outside, the cold air hit her, making her shiver.
"Was he really here?" she kept asking herself. "Or was it just my imagination?"
But deep down, she knew the answer. It was real. He had been here. And even though everything had returned to normal, Zoya's world would never be the same again.
---
At Pusan National University
Zoya arrived at Pusan National University's hostel, knowing that her first class would start on Tuesday. It was Sunday, and she decided to fix some things—mainly, the thoughts that kept attacking her mind. She had come here for a purpose, and with time, everything would fall into place.
In this country, she needed patience. Back home, people questioned everything:
"Why study abroad? There are no jobs here. You should get married instead."
But here, no one was forcing their opinions on her. No one was teasing her for waiting. No one was hurting her. Here, her life was hers to live.
As she sat on her bed, trying to process everything, the door suddenly opened. Two girls entered the room. One looked Indian, while the other had features that reminded her of Chinese or Nepalese people—but she wasn't sure.
They both smiled and greeted her. The Indian girl, Ruhi, simply said "Hello!" with a warm smile, while the other girl, Hana, bowed slightly in the traditional way of her culture. It showed she was Korean.
Zoya hesitated for a second, then returned their greeting with a small smile. "Hello!"
Ruhi introduced herself first, her voice filled with friendliness.
"I'm Ruhi, from Hyderabad, India."
Then Hana spoke.
"And I'm Hana, from Jeonju, South Korea."
Zoya nodded, adjusting her posture slightly. "I'm Zoya, from Pakistan."
The moment she said Pakistan, Hana's expression changed. She glanced at Ruhi before looking back at Zoya.
"Pakistani and Indian… aren't you both enemies?"
Her words caught Zoya off guard, and for a moment, her smile faded. She turned to Ruhi, but Ruhi's expression was neutral, as if she was waiting to see how Zoya would respond.
Zoya took a deep breath and said softly,
"No, we are not enemies. Pakistan and India are like brothers. It's just that some people play a bad role and spread hate, but in reality, we are one."
Both Ruhi and Hana smiled at her words. Hana nodded and said,
"That's good to hear. Anyway, make yourself comfortable. This is our room, our world, where we live together, joke, and share everything."
Zoya felt a sense of relief at their kindness. They spoke in English, but Ruhi and Zoya naturally switched to Hindi sometimes, as Urdu and Hindi were so similar. Later, as Zoya learned Korean, she knew she would start using it more in her daily life.
That night, Ruhi and Hana told her they had arrived a month earlier and would guide her through everything she needed.
"First, freshen up. Then we'll go to the mess and eat something," Ruhi suggested.
They walked to the university mess together, and Zoya noticed that many new students had arrived that day. Since her department was Teaching Education, she saw people from different countries greeting one another. Those who already knew Ruhi and Hana greeted them and were introduced to her.
As they stood in line for food, Zoya held her plate, and Ruhi and Hana did the same. Unluckily, Zoya ended up near a section where a stack of meat was served. As she reached for the serving spoon, Ruhi suddenly grabbed her hand.
Zoya looked at her, confused.
"Come with me," Ruhi said quickly.
She led Zoya to another section where she filled her plate with vegetable noodles and curry. They sat down at a table, and Zoya finally asked,
"Ruhi, why did you stop me?"
Ruhi looked at her carefully before replying,
"That was pork. The food tags are in Korean, so you didn't notice."
Zoya's smile disappeared. Her eyes filled with tears, and her heart sank. She felt bad—not just bad, but deeply disturbed. Her throat tightened, and she struggled to speak.
"Allah, I almost ate it…"
Ruhi saw her expression and quickly said,
"It's okay. You didn't eat it. That's what matters."
Zoya nodded, swallowing her emotions, and whispered, "Thank you."
She didn't say much for the rest of the meal. But inside, she kept thanking Allah for sending Ruhi at the right moment.
---
Before Dawn – A Whispered Prayer
The next morning, Zoya woke up early. The room was dark, and she didn't want to disturb Ruhi and Hana, so she quietly turned off her alarm.
She went to the washroom, performed wudu (ablution), and then searched for a place to pray Fajr (dawn prayer). The early morning darkness felt a little unsettling, but she stepped outside into the hallway, looking left and right.
Finding a quiet corner, she spread her prayer mat—the one she had brought from home—and began her prayer. As she finished her farz (obligatory prayer), she stayed for a while, reciting azkar (remembrance of Allah).
Then, as she lifted her hands for dua, tears welled up in her eyes.
"Ya Allah, You know what happened yesterday. First, he was there, but I didn't realize it. And second… I almost served myself haram food."
She sniffled, her voice barely a whisper as she continued,
"Thank You for sending Ruhi. She stopped me. But Allah… I feel bad. Please forgive me. And please…" Her voice broke.
"Please make his heart bright with golden shine."
Zoya wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and stood up. Everyone else was still asleep. But at that moment, she knew she wasn't alone.
Only Allah was truly there, listening to her.
To be continued…
Regards,
ZK💌