"For more than a decade, we all know Musa is not alright," Samira eyed each and everyone of them, everyone's gaze fell on her, equally concerned for Musa.

"And we all know that he was never like this," Samira's voice grew solid. "We should step back, and try to see where he comes from."

"Well he came from Murree that's for sure," Dawood nodded.

"Wait- are we going back in time as to when he was just a small, little lanky boy with a Spider-Man bag?" Bilal questioned, trying to figure out where this was heading.

Nani Samira exhaled slowly, eyeing Bilal as if he needed a hammer in the head. "Musa was never like this. He was never distant, cold, and- and, whatever your father ruthlessly made out of him!"

Something shadowed Bilal's face, for he had nothing to retort on that. He lowered his gaze, his hands on his thigh. "It's true. Baba never was light on anything that involved Musa... it was like he hated him, yet kept him near for his own security."

He passed down a dark look to the grass, voicing the memories in his head. "I never understood why... I never knew, I just don't know why it was always Musa, while he had always been the most innocent. When we were younger, we used to call him the goodie two shoes. Because he was like that, sweet, kind, reading all the time- while me, Karim, and Salih bhai were always on the go for another round of mischief. But no, he would stay back- not in the mood to join in."

He inhaled slowly, shaking his head. "But... one day, or, I don't know, maybe it was something building up inside him along the way- he took a turn. A turn that most of us were happy he did, because it seemed he was living life better, but some of us, like Ghazala Auntie- they regretted. Musa was always a weirdo- but I agree, this constant friction between him and Baba had been building up, to the extent he just needed a runaway."

"You're all the way on Musa's side aren't you?" Eshaal asked, her head tilted.

Bilal shrugged. "When you're in that position where you see both sides of the grass- it's easier to see which side is greener."

"Yet are you sure he read Zara's diary?" Dawood spoke up, looking intently towards Bilal.

"He did," Bilal affirmed. "He did, and it was only after that he left."

"Even though we all read his story, Zara, but recall- is there anything that you wrote in it, that might have been the push button?" Nani Samira turned to Zara.

Zara lowered her gaze, she felt utterly at a loss- for all that Bilal had said about what Musa went through, bit at her insides. For she knew, she knew no matter how much she tried to ignore, even when they were leaving the mansion- it didn't feel right to her.

It felt all wrong, that when Musa blamed her for leaving him wrongfully, why must she claim that statement true?

Her eyes stared down at her cold palms, her mind rasped in a blanket of bugging truths. She could see plain, grey eyes crying back at her, before she would cuddle the boy into her arms, and subside his childish fears when they were in the rain.

Musa was always afraid of storms.

And this was a storm in his life.

He needed an umbrella.

And she was his umbrella.

"He never fit in this house, is that what you meant?" Zara questioned Bilal, sternly.

"Yes... he actually never fitted anywhere... neither in school, neither at home, neither at social gatherings- he was always the odd one out."

Zara's brows creased together, trying to bring these blocks of information together, few more were missing. "How is his teacher like? Is he..."

"He's nice, religious like the lot of you, he's actually very friendly, surprised me when I saw a bearded man being non judgemental for once." Bilal smiled a bit sheepishly.

Dawood raised a brow, leaning back on his chair. "Why do you and Musa have a narrow image of bearded men, I think they're cool."

"Well, that's because you have a beard, of course, you'll think you're cool." Bilal responded with a small smile.

Dawood smiled sweetly- sitting forward. "Little man's cousin, my pal, my colleague in this weird journey to figure out Musa's past- our dear Prophet SAW used to have a beard, and he was the coolest man on the face of this earth. I think myself cool because I just try to follow him, no matter how imperfectly for I can't ever reach his SAW level."

There was silence dripping between the two men, as there was a strange look to Bilal's eyes, as he turned back to Zara, who stared back at her husband.

Zara stared at the side of Dawood's head, seeing the intensity of love in his eyes when he said what he just did- standing up for the beauty of beards, and she realized how blessed she was to have such a firm, strong man in her life.

"Do you think there's a possibility that we can track him down?" Eshaal asked, at which everyone broke out of their daze, and Bilal answered her back, his voice not convincing.

"I mean we can try... but- I don't know," Bilal sighed. "I could try texting Musa to tell me where his address is- I could..."

"Never mind that," Zara said, heavily. "You give me his number, let me talk to him."

Zara felt everyone's stares on her, but she didn't lose her solidness. "Give me his number, Bilal, and I'll talk to him."

"What-"

"Because if you ask for the address, that is just stupid," Zara shook her head. "It obviously means you're onto something, I don't need his address- I just need his number. I am his sister, he needs me."

After a while, because Bilal had come out clear that he could not remember numbers on spot, rushed back inside, Nani Samira and Eshaal had settled down on the chairs, talking amongst themselves about how they should open up a small garden shop, and over there sell Nani's homemade perfumes for ladies, and Eshaal's modest clothing outlet.

Zara did not feel like in the mood to indulge in that conversation, least to say had anything else in her mind but Musa, hugging herself and in her attempt to calm down her impatience, she walked away at a distance from the others, and started to pace around the car porch.

Bilal had still not returned, and by that time, Zara felt someone tug on her arm lightly.

"You alright, habibti?" His soft whisper curled at her ears, and Zara looked up- meeting Dawood's hazel eyes, that crinkled by the ends, ever so softly- she felt like she had enough of all this tension.

"Dawood, I don't know where this is heading," Zara breathed out. "There's so much going on right now and-"

"Shh." Dawood lightly pressed his forefinger on her lips, looking down into her eyes. He did the only thing he could think of then, and did the very thing that Zara could claim Musa needed, forgetting that she herself, needed it.

Zara needed the hug.

A hug is not just that loving gesture from your loved ones, it is that forever a moment where a point comes, when you have to reach out to the other, and let them know that you are here for them- that even if they don't have words that can heal your wounds, and the actual solution is patience, but you are running out of it, then a hug, even though, small a word- but heavy is it's power.

Zara did not pull away, as relief washed, blessed eyes and a teary smile broke up.

"Better?" Dawood whispered.

Zara nodded, sniffing. "Better..."

"Zara Baji? It's on dial."

Dawood and Zara broke away suddenly, as Bilal was seen marching across the porch towards them. He held out his phone for Zara, and Zara spotted the name

'Soldier M'

She did not question Bilal, about that, but took his phone in her hands, and held it near her ear, waiting for the ringing to stop. The insides of her stomach churned, for if Musa picked up, and once he would realize this is not Bilal, but rather Zara, what would his reaction be?

Would he cut the phone in her face?

Or, would he listen through what she had to say?

Would, hopefully, this work?

Or, would she have to be pushed through another round of insecurity for just trying all over again?

"Hello?"

He picked up! Zara's eyes widened, meeting Dawood's patient ones.

Dawood gestured her to go on, and it was then Zara opened her mouth.

"Asalamualaykum, um... Musa?"

"Wait... who is this?"

"Musa, it's me Zara." Zara wished her voice would sound a bit more confident. There was a pause on the other end, and Zara could only imagine what he would be thinking.

He probably thought this woman would never leave him. Zara felt ashamed for being clingy, but this was important.

She met Dawood's encouraging eyes, and rejuvenated. Inhaling sharply, she continued.

"Listen, Musa, Bilal told me about you and... I don't know where you are, or, what you're doing- that's the least on my mind. All I know is that you're my brother, and no matter what has happened to part us away, I did not give in to those obstacles. Neither the distance, neither the money, neither anything- Musa, this can't go on for long."

Zara at that moment, didn't care what he would say. She just knew she had her say finally, and that was what was important.

But who knew, that it is only with different circumstances, different moments, a little change of air- could change a mindset of a man's.

"You're right," Musa's voice on the other head was stiff. "We should meet. Tomorrow?"

A cool breeze overtook her heart, and she felt any minute now she was going to lose her balance. A small smile crept up to her lips and she finalized it.

"Yes."

______

There was twilight lingering in the sky, the way the stars pecked on that musing blanket of darkness, with a touch of indigo swirls, decorating the hues of that mass wonder.

They were standing together, teacher and student, under a dim lit hollow lamp that hung above their heads. A small terrace, with thin steel wiring by the ledge, as they enjoyed the serenity of just silence, and comfort.

"What are your plans from now?" Rashid broke the quietness, with his deep tone.

"I'll give tuition," Musa responded in a blink of an eye- staring up at the sky. "Teach maths, science, anything really. And that's how I'll earn. I already know a few kids that I used to teach- when I was badly in need of money... I guess I'll go back to teach them, then."

"That's a good idea. Do you have plans for further education?"

"I'll study alongside, but only if I'm able to couple up enough to go to a local university, for I guess... there's really no chance of going abroad. Not anymore."

Rashid turned to Musa. "Do you feel disappointed in your decision of leaving that mansion then?"

Musa shook his head. "Not at all. Freedom is way blissful than higher education or money. I may be a bit of a weirdo- but quicker than most people my age, I've learnt that life is so much more than what people expect of you. Somethings are just yours to build on your own."

"I like the idea behind letting go of people's expectation, Musa," Rashid nodded. "But never forget that without Allah's Help and Will, you would not be standing here. It's a surprise your uncle hasn't yet sent out police after you- or, least to say, condemn you to come back. Why do you think that in the walls that haunted you, was it so easy to get out this time?"

His words fell into an ocean, that splattered water droplets over Musa's face- just the right couple to crease his brows thoughtfully, and not bother to wipe the water off his face. Because what if this refreshening drift, was all he needed, and as he stood at bay, looking down at the garden below the terrace, the flowers brushed by the wind, the stars sprinkling in the sky above, the eyes of everyone he knew so well, Bilal, Rashid Murhani, and Ghazala Auntie- hadn't they all come in his life time and time again as saviors?

Something took him aback, as Musa's eyes widened as these waves of thoughts crashed over and over again, making him realize things.

He had never been alone as he once used to claim

Even if his father sent him away somewhere, he had people- couple of them, true, but three people were enough to hold you.

"All this time...." Musa cleared his throat, he gazed at Rashid, who had his eyes lowered- Musa couldn't bring out what his mentor could be thinking.

"All this time?" He repeated for Musa, encouraging him to go on.

"All this time, I thought God was punishing me for something I didn't know. I thought, maybe, He hated me, and I was not His favorite... I thought-"

"I don't see it that way, Musa," Rashid turned to face Musa, his own eyes softening in different crystally shades. "I know for certain, that God loves you to the extent you're breathing, you're living, you're surviving through all these harshest battles. He loves you to the extent, you can't even count. He is your Creator. How can He leave that which He creates, when He made you so beautifully, from every detail, cell, and not to mention, that the love you receive around you is His gift."

"What about the hate I've received?" Musa muttered.

Rashid's face took up a light smile. "The hate, then, means He loves you even more, because those that are loved by Allah, are hated by the sick-hearted. The prophets had to go through a lot of hate from their society, and their people, and only a few would stand out to love them, because they knew the truth. Musa, you don't need everyone to love you, you don't even have to fight alone, all you need is Allah, and that is sufficient for you."

"But- but I've been so far from Him," Musa's eyes burnt, his grip tightening on the rail.

"Your heart is accepting the fact that you know what you have to do," Rashid eyed him, holding his shoulders with his own wrinkly hands. Musa ducked his head, swallowing his tight throat- not saying anything in response.

"It is calling out to you for so long, Musa," Rashid smiled thoughtfully. "I saw how you wanted to pray, back in college, but ignored joining me just because others were watching. I saw how you knew every bit of your soul, but let it go in the darkness, because you thought it was easier. But tell me, Musa, has it been easier, forgetting who you are and ultimately Allah?"

"All of this..." Musa felt the burn in his eyes increase, as he lifted his palms to swipe it away. "All of this was His doing, His plan... and I've been so ignorant. How can I face Him? What face can I show Him?"

"You still have time, Musa, the fact that you're realizing all of this, and you're breathing is proof enough that Allah has led you this far, to guide his beloved servant back. We've all been in this stage and time in our lives, when we feel the most distant from Him, but then He guides us in such subtle, beautiful ways, that you realize everything is in plan, and always for the better of us. He loves us, Musa. Don't ignore this love for long, I'll leave it upto you now, to hold your ground, and make life worth living now."

Rashid had only patted Musa on the back, when the terrace door behind them opened- Musa turned his teary face away, afraid that Amber, Rashid's daughter, would notice.

"Abu, the tea is ready." She called out kindly.

Rashid pulled back his hand from Musa, smiling towards his daughter. "JazakAllahokhair, Amber beti..."

Rashid was only just about to leave, before Musa perked up the courage, dry eyed and steady, turned around.

"I need to pray," he said, feeling the intense gaze of both Rashid and Amber on him, but he did not sway his confidence. "Please... a prayer mat, and the directions to the washroom-"

"Oh, right, I'll get the prayer mat," Amber nodded, already making her way inside, and Rashid gestured to Musa to follow him.

It was not long when Musa was provided a prayer mat, a quiet corner of Rashid's bedroom, and throughout all the motions, more than the stiffness of his limbs that prostrated, stood up, bent, and prostrated again, it was the stiffness of his heart, that started beating faster, that started hearing things, taking in the fact that Musa, was meeting his Rabb.

The Rabb he had for so long aimlessly tried to ignore, hopelessly try to live on with life, that others claimed was true happiness, when the real journey, the real struggle, and the real bliss-

Was to Allah.

____

He had gotten a call after praying, when he cupped his hands to make dua, and had another spur of tears, rolling down his cheeks, for in front of Allah, he felt like this was fine... tears were fine... man or, woman.... isn't that the true essence of a human being?

He folded up the prayer mat, and placed it aside. Walked over to his phone, and seated himself on the floor, with his back against the bed's side. He saw the name Soldier B and picked it up.

He heard her voice, and still yet questioned.

He listened through what she had to say, and did not retort.

He paused when she paused for breath, and stared up at the ceiling instead, thinking this through.

For now, he will do what his heart is echoing him towards. Especially after prayer, and asking Allah for an indication to make the right decision, Musa knew...

That all of this was a part of Allah's plan, and why should he ignore His Signs? The fact that Zara was still in Islamabad, meant that it was time they had to meet.

"-You're right. We should meet. Tomorrow?"

Her 'yes' was ever so breathtaking.

Asalamualaykum

This is Ambar's aesthetic made by tala-al-badru my dear, crazy twin

Go show her some love because she deserves it and duas for her upcoming exams :3

Also this chapter was so hard to start, I had a terrible block dragging this for so long, but my dear people in life, and the help of @kaNisar I realized the secret to success of this story and you all deserve a happy chapter :)

Stay blessed and strong

- e . a