Bangladesh...

It was an early summer morning, around seven o'clock. The sun had just begun to rise, casting golden streaks of light through the curtains of a small, cozy bedroom in a three-storey apartment.

Zara, an 18-year-old girl with long, tousled black hair cascading over her pillow, slept peacefully, cradling a pillow to her chest. Her skin, fair with a soft ivory glow, seemed to catch the golden sunlight streaming through the curtains. Thick lashes rested on her high cheekbones, and a small, delicate nose complemented her oval-shaped face. Her lips, naturally tinted with a rose hue, were parted slightly as she breathed in the quiet calm of morning. There was a gentle grace in her stillness, the kind that made even silence seem poetic.

The silence in the room was comforting—until a sudden shrill sound broke through.

Zara’s brows furrowed as her eyelids fluttered open. The alarm clock buzzed relentlessly.

With a sleepy groan, she reached out and slapped the snooze button. She sat up, stretching her arms above her head, letting out a quiet yawn. Sliding her feet into her smiley-faced slippers, she padded toward the bathroom connected to her room.

Refreshed a few minutes later, Zara walked to the window, the soft fabric of her pastel blue kurti fluttering gently with each step. She unlatched the window, letting the morning breeze pour in—a blend of blooming jasmine, wet earth, and promise. Her dark hair, now slightly damp from her wash, danced around her shoulders as the wind played with the loose strands. She closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the light, the golden rays brushing across her smooth skin like a blessing. In that moment, framed by the morning glow, she looked like a painting come to life—serene, soft, and quietly beautiful, as if carrying her dreams in the stillness of her smile.

After basking in the warmth of the rising sun for a couple of minutes,She turned back and glanced at the other bed in the room. Her younger sister, Sara, was still fast asleep, her face buried in a cushion.

“Sara, get up,” Zara called softly.

“Why so early? I just fell asleep...” the little girl mumbled with a groan.

They had only gone to bed an hour ago after offering Fajr prayer and reading the Quran together. Waking up early wasn’t hard for Zara—she had always been a morning person. But Sara was the complete opposite. Getting her up took not one, but two attempts daily—first for prayer, and then for school.

“It’s time for school. You need to get up now!” Zara pulled the blanket off her.

“Appi, five more minutes,” Sara pleaded, shielding her face with a pillow.

“Nope. Up now, or you’ll be late.” Zara crossed her arms and gave her best big-sister glare.

Grumbling, Sara finally dragged herself out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. Zara smiled, shaking her head, then began making the bed—folding the blanket neatly and tucking the sheets in place with practiced ease.

By the time she finished, Sara had come out and started dressing for school.

“Get ready quickly and come out for breakfast,” Zara said, heading toward the kitchen.

There, she found her mother, Saira, already busy cooking.

“Good morning, Ammi,” Zara greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re up early,” Saira smiled. “Go set the table. I’ll bring breakfast.”

“I’ll handle the plates,” Zara replied and stepped into the dining room.

“Good morning, Abbu,” she said warmly to her father, Mr. Niaz Khan, who was reading the newspaper.

“Good morning, dear,” he replied, smiling and setting the paper aside.

Soon, the table was set, and Saira brought out hot flatbreads.

“Where’s Sara? Still sleeping?” she asked while serving.

“She’s up. Getting ready.” Zara replied.

“Your result is coming out tomorrow, isn’t it?” her father asked between sips of tea.

Zara nodded, swallowing a gulp of orange juice. “Mm-hmm.”

Saira turned sharply to her husband. “You’re really sending her to India?”

“We’ve talked about this,” he replied firmly.

“I’m still not okay with it. We’ve never let her stay away even for a day. And now—years?”

“Ammi...” Zara whispered, her voice low and uncertain.She looked at his father for help and Niaz understood his upspoken plead and gave her a plead in assurance .

Niaz gently took his wife’s hand. “It’s her dream. Her future. We must let her chase it—even if it means letting her go.”

Saira sighed, defeated. “Fine. Do what you want. You two never listen when you’ve made up your minds,anyway .”

The Next Morning...

Zara had barely slept two hours. Her nerves were all over the place. Like every other student she also got the jitters on the result day.At 5 a.m., she sat in front of the laptop, hands trembling.

“I’m so nervous. I can’t even look.” Zara  muttered,sitting in front of the laptop, hands trembling.

The result had just been posted, and calls from excited relatives had started pouring in. But Zara wasn’t ready to check.

“Just click it already.The result is already there .No matter how long you wait,the result won't change.” her mother said, half-exasperated.

“Have faith in Allah.” her father said calmly.

“You got this, Appi!” Sara added.

Zara took a deep breath. “Alright.Lets do it.”

"Bismillah."With trembling fingers, she typed in her roll number and hit Enter.

She could feel her heart pounding heavily against her chest while her eyes fixated on the screen ,waiting for the page to be loaded.

The result showed up.

711.

“Ya Allah! Alhamdulillah!” Saira cried, her eyes welling with joy.

“711! Is this real? My score?” Zara whispered, stunned.

The next moment she winced in pain as Sara pinched her.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Zara glared.

“See,you feel the pain .That proves You’re not dreaming,” Sara grinned.

Zara laughed ,shaking her head.

"Congrats ,appi."Sara said and hugged her tightly.

“With this score, you’ll easily get into a good medical college in India,” her father beamed. “I’m going to buy sweets! Any preferences?”

“Misti doi!” Zara shouted instantly.

“No! Ras Malai!” Sara objected.

“Misti doi!”

“Ras Malai!”

“Okay, okay!” Niaz laughed. “I’ll get both.”

Both sister squealed in joy .

Mr.Khan headed out, while Saira excitedly called relatives to share the news.

On ther other hand ,Zara spent her time replying to the flooding , inquisitive texts which she got from her friends and classmates.

Later that morning...

“Ammi, I’m going to meet Khusbu!” Zara called as she opened the front door.

“Okay, dear. Come back for lunch on time.I’m making your favorite!” Saira called from the kitchen.

"Okay."Zara smiled and stepped out.

Khusbu, her childhood best friend, lived in the same building. They’d done everything together—school, sleepovers, silly dreams—and now they were planning to study medicine together.

Reaching to her house,Zara rang the bell. A minute later, Khusbu’s mother, Salma , opened the door.

“Assalamu Alaikum, Aunty!”

“Walaikum Assalam, sweetie. Come in.”

“How are you?”

“All good. And you? What’s your score?”

“712!” Zara chirped.

“Ma-sha-Allah!” Salma caressed her hair fondly.

"What about Khusbu? What's her result and where is she ,by the way?She isn't picking up my calls."

“Khusbu’s in her room. She’s upset.”

Zara’s smile faded. “Why? Didn’t she do well?”

“She scored 691. It’s a good result, but not what she hoped for.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her.”

Salma nodded gratefully.

Zara knocked on her friend’s door.

“I don’t want to talk to anyone!” came Khusbu’s muffled voice.

“Khusbu, it’s me. Please open the door.”

A moment later, the door creaked open.

Zara walked in and sat across from her on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I’ll get into the same college we planned for. "

"Why do you say that?"Zara's face fell.

"My score’s not enough for a scholarship and you know that without scholarship it's not possible for me to study in India..”Khusbu said ,head down.

“Don’t lose hope before trying,” Zara said gently. “Allah answers our prayers as long as we keep believing. So don’t give up.”

Her words lit a spark in Khusbu’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Khusbu said softly. “He knows what’s best.”

Zara smiled in relief ,seeing the positiveness in her friend.

One week later, the two girls applied to a renowned medical college in Dehradun and they both got in—with scholarships.

Two weeks later, they packed their bags, ready to chase their dreams.

Together.