WE WILL MEET AGAIN
Present
Umm-e-Farwah gently helps him up from the ground.
She begins to teach him the basic techniques — patiently, step by step.
He says nothing.
As if carrying the weight of something unspoken, he doesn't ask a single question.
He just listens to everything she says and follows every instruction without hesitation.
Not once does he look her in the eyes. His gaze remains lowered the entire time.
And when the session ends…
he simply mutters a quiet, respectful, "Thank you,"
and walks away.
Umm-e-Farwah stands still, watching him leave.
Suddenly, Qasim flashes in her mind —
his voice, his face…
her brother who once stood beside her in training.
"Brother… you taught me so much… but why did you leave like that?"
"There was still so much I needed to learn from you."
"Why did you promise you'd come back… when you never did?"
She doesn't cry.
Not outwardly.
But inside…
it's like her soul is breaking open — weeping silently, desperately.
And without saying a word to anyone, she walks home.
Alone.
It's Fajr.
The sky glows faintly with the earliest light.
The world is still — wrapped in peace, in prayers.
Anas, having completed his prayer, walks up to the rooftop of his home.
He stands there, quiet, barefoot on the cold surface, his hands in his pockets.
He looks out at the neighborhood below, rooftops lined like scattered memories.
The wind brushes through his glowing hair as he closes his eyes for a moment.
He isn't thinking — just being.
Just breathing with nature.
And as if the universe aligns in that silence…
a line from Sabeer-e-Khaak's book echoes softly through the moment, almost like a whisper from the pages:
"We'll meet again someday…
We'll smile once more…
And it will feel just like it use
d to —
Same time. Same place. Same heartbeats."
After standing there in silence for a while,
Anas finally turns and begins walking downstairs — slow, steady steps, like someone carrying a calm storm within.
The soft morning light follows him as he descends, a quiet resolve in his movements.
He knows exactly where he needs to be.
And so, right on time, he starts heading toward the training grounds —
the place where Idrees had called everyone to test their skills.
Meanwhile…
Idrees arrives first.
His boots echo against the ground as he walks in with his usual sharp energy.
He looks around with a faint smirk, the kind that says, "Of course, I'm the first. Who else would be so punctual?"
But then —
A strange sensation creeps up his spine.
That feeling… when you're being watched.
He turns slightly — just enough to glance over his shoulder.
And there he is.
Anas.
Already standing behind him.
Quiet. Still.
Not a word spoken… but his presence speaks volumes.
As if he had been there the whole time — waiting, watching…
not competing, but simply existing ahead of time.
Idrees pauses for a second.
No words.
Just a flicker of something in his eyes — curiosity, maybe even challenge.
The morning breeze passes between them.
The day… has only just begun.
Written By
Sabir Ali
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