"Finding peace is an exploration of the heart, a journey into the depths where stillness resides."

~ Unknown

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After the conversation, Ali searched for a discreet solution the whole night. The only thing that came to his mind was using a private investigator and searching for her himself. He made the choice to hire a private investigator, someone who could unveil the whereabouts of his missing wife. Ali's first idea to find her was reaching out to everyone where she could stay a night. Mostly friends. It was known to him that he was not involved much in her life in their short span of marriage, yet he expected some help from someone who was longer in her life or more involved with her.

Unlike his regular routine he woke up at 8am and got ready. Leaving breakfast or family talks aside, he reached a café. Asif was already sitting there. Ali sat opposite to him and greeted him. In pursuit of more information about Amira's social circles, Ali turned to Asif. Ali hoped he would know more about it since he lived 18 years with her, though she was never in his talks. The café carried a nice scent and distant murmurs. There was a pretty silence in between them before Ali decided to address his thoughts.

"Asif, I need your help. It's been days. Amira was supposed to be with you all but she's not. She's missing. No one seems to know about her whereabouts. I am getting worried about her whereabouts. Do you have any information or ideas about her friends? Or her favorite places? Or somewhere she could go. Anything that could help me find her?"

Asif's response was far from what Ali expected. He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "Why should I know anything about her or her friends or where she hangs out?"

"Bhai, she lived 18 years with you. You must know something at least? She is your sister. You shared a place. She must have brought someone home or something." Ali's frustration simmered beneath the surface, but he pressed on. "I need any information you might have."

Asif sighed, his disinterest being unchanged. "Look, Ali, I don't know where she is. Maybe she went off somewhere. Who knows? It's not my problem. And it shouldn't be yours either. Uncle forced her on you. She's off the hook now. So now uncle won't pressurize you either. Just marry any girl you want to. Let her be wherever she is."

Shocked was an understatement at what Ali was currently feeling about Asif's lack of concern. His shock and frustration reached a boiling point. Asif was not even trying to understand how serious this situation was. "She can be in serious trouble, Asif. Aren't you even concerned a bit? What if she's kidnapped?"

"Only a stupid would kidnap her. So don't worry much. She herself took off somewhere afraid from responsibilities. Now don't spoil my morning mood with her talks. Please." Ali looked at him for a good minute before standing up and leaving the place. His attempt to find any help remained unsuccessful. He heard his name from the back but didn't bother to look back. A similar conversation did happen with Abram and Faisal too. The acknowledgment he got — She was a mystery to her own family.

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The day wore on, marked by Ali's fruitless attempts to gather information about Amira. The evening got him more hopes, as Ali decided to visit Amira's family home. He hoped to find some clues or insights into her disappearance. As he approached the familiar surroundings, the air was thick with tension and uncertainty. The encounters in the morning with her brothers were still fresh in his mind. He was unsure how someone's siblings could hate her so much and be unaware about anything relevant.

Amira's family home stood before him, a silent witness to the complexities that unfolded within its walls. Ali hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. The sound echoed, and soon the door creaked open, revealing Farah. She received him with great joy, despite being surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Ali, what brings you here?" Farah greeted him with a nonchalant smile, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation of her own daughter missing.

"Aunty, I've come to inquire about Amira. She's been missing for days, and I'm trying to find her. Do you have any idea where she might be or any knowledge concerning her friends?" Ali's voice carried a mix of urgency and concern, but Amira's mother seemed detached from what he just said.

"Why are you worrying so much about her? She does what she wants and how to. A literal mess. I'm sure she'll turn up eventually. Don't worry too much about her. She probably ran off to escape responsibilities. What else to expect from a careless girl like her? Don't you remember how careless she was about her admissions? Where was she kept so busy that she couldn't apply?" Farah replied casually, dismissing the severity of the situation. Ali at that time realized that things were way more different than he saw.

Ali, frustrated by the lack of concern from Amira's family, pressed on. "Aunty, I need to know if there's anything you can tell me about her friends or any place she might visit frequently. It's important that we find her. Even if she ran off."

Amira's mother shrugged, her indifference unchanged. "Ali, I don't keep track of her friends or where she goes or what she does. She's grown up. And you know how these girls nowadays are. Probably she got in some wrong company the way she's stupid. That girl just knows to bother everyone. So just relax and stop thinking about her or even worrying."

"Has this happened before?" Ali looked suspicious after hearing this. Did she actually just vanish to avoid responsibilities? Is that why nobody cared?

"Not once. Often," Farah replied while picking her phone. She excused herself, leaving Ali even more confused about all this. He decided to visit her room — the place where she might have left behind traces of her life, her thoughts, and perhaps clues to her current whereabouts.

As he entered her room, Ali was taken aback. It was the smallest room in the house, a stark contrast to the spacious living areas. The maintenance was visible, but a layer of neglect lingered in the air. It was a room that reflected a life confined, both physically and emotionally. Ali realized that her family's disregard for her extended beyond mere disapproval; it bordered on neglect. Ali, standing in the quiet room, felt a surge of empathy for the woman he had hastily married and the challenges she must have endured at this place with these people. One of the walls had faded bloodstains. This only got him more confused. The discovery sent a shiver down his spine, raising unsettling questions about the life Amira led in the confines of this room.

Determined to find answers, Ali carefully examined the room, searching for any clues that could lead him to Amira. He opened drawers, sifted through papers, and scrutinized the few belongings that marked her presence in this confined space. The faded bloodstains remained a mystery, haunting Ali's thoughts. What could have happened in this room? Whose blood was this? Ali couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to Amira's story than met the eye. He came across a few books which he simply skipped. They could not carry any hint. What felt weird was that she had more books than dresses.

Ending his search he started to go home. Every turn in his search left him with more questions than answers. The journey to unravel Amira's mystery had taken its toll, both physically and emotionally. Home greeted him with a sense of familiarity, yet the absence of Amira's presence cast a somber tone over the once-shared spaces. The night had not yielded the answers he sought, but Ali's determination remained steadfast. He knew that, come the morning, the quest to find Amira would resume, fueled by the hope that each new day brought him closer to unraveling the mystery that surrounded her disappearance.

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Diary Entry - [10.09.23]

Dear Diary,

My day came back to my old, familiar rhythm of college - work - back to the place I live at. It's not even my home. It's a space that lacks the warmth and familiarity I associate with the concept of home. The longing for that feeling of belonging persists, echoing in the quiet moments between the pages of my solitary life. It's linked to the fabric of moments, both ordinary and extraordinary, that shape the contours of a life.

Home, for me, is the warmth in the gaze of loved ones and the comforting embrace of familiar spaces. It goes beyond the physicality of walls and ceilings, residing in the inseparable bonds that connect hearts. Home is where one can be unapologetically yourself. It's the canvas upon which memories are painted, a refuge in the storm and a celebration in times of joy. In essence, home is not just a location; it's a feeling that lingers in the soul.

Peace – that was the second name of home. And I have yet not found that home. I have lived for 18 years now, almost 19 but that feeling of familiarity is still missing in my life. I am certain that at this point, no one will be trying to search me. I would be invisible to them. They will be expecting me to be back after a week or two. I am not even worth any of their thoughts. I ponder over whether they even acknowledge my absence or dismissal from their lives. The uncertainty bites at me. It's been a while since I could not talk to Samad Bhai. I don't know what is happening there. The urge to communicate with him tugs at my thoughts, but I resist, unsure of what emerges in my absence.

Sometimes, a fleeting thought crosses my mind – I feel as if I should go back to where I was living. Yet, an equally strong desire urges me to run away without informing anyone. Starting a life, where I am independent, where nobody knows me, where no expectations or grudges towards me exist. Maybe I would find my home at that unknown place. Maybe I could find someone whom I can call family. Maybe it would be just the new beginning of a life where each part of me does not wish to end. Where my heartbeats would not feel a burden.

However, questions persist, unsettling my resolve. What about the part of my heart that still expects Ali to be my soulmate? The part which trusts Samad Bhai's beliefs? What if my impulsive decision, taken in haste, would confuse everything even more for me? What if mom, dad and bhai are right? What if I never can achieve anything in my life because I am a girl? I even needed Ali's money to pay for my fees. I owe him so much and here I am, hiding from his eyes. I wish for all this to end in any way possible. I am tired of this hide and seek. Fatigue settles in as I navigate the complexities of expectations, societal norms, and personal aspirations. In the expanse of uncertainties, a wish lingers – for resolution, for a new beginning that doesn't carry the weight of the past, and for a life where every heartbeat doesn't feel like a burden.

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