" Main Phul Ban'na Tu Taara Sajjna
Kalla Te Kuwara Sajjna

Milna Chaun Dobara Sajjna
Fer Na La Dayin Laara Sajjna

Mitti Da Ban Dher Milange,
Haye Ni Apa Fer Milange

Kade Na Kade Fer Milaange,
Haye Ni Apaan Fer Milange "

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My imagination

Fakhir's Pov

The morning sun bathed the university campus in a golden hue as I navigated the bustling corridors, my mind singularly focused on one goal: finding Umeed's class.

She had been on my mind ever since I first Saw her, a vision of grace and quiet beauty. Today, I decided I would find a way to talk to her.

I made my way to the central courtyard where groups of students gathered, chatting and laughing.

Normally, I would have moved through the crowd with a cold detachment, indifferent to the noise and commotion.

But today was different. I spotted my friend Imran, who was known for his helpful nature.

His sister, Sara, was friends with Umeed. If anyone could help me, it was him.

"Imran," I called out, my voice calm and measured.He turned, a smile spreading across his face.

"Hey Fakhir! What's up?"I took a deep breath, keeping my tone neutral.

"I need a favor. Can you ask Sara which class Umeed is in? I need to talk to her about something."Imran raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ah, I see. The market girl, right?"I felt a flush creeping up my neck but kept my expression stoic.

"Yes, the market girl. Can you help me or not?"He chuckled and pulled out his phone, texting Sara. Moments later, his phone buzzed with a reply.

"Room 204, the English Literature class," he said, looking up at me with a grin.

"Good luck, man."I nodded my thanks and made my way to Room 204. The hallway was quiet, with only a few students lingering near the doors. My heart pounded as I approached the classroom. Would she remember me? What would I say?I reached the door and peered inside.

There she was, sitting near the window, her profile illuminated by the sunlight streaming in. She was talking to the same girl I had seen her with at the market, her face adorned with a small, serene smile. It was a sight to behold-her smile was so beautiful, it took my breath away.

Author's Pov

As Fakhir stood there, lost in admiration of Umeed, he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

Startled, he turned around to see his friend Ahmed standing behind him, a puzzled look on his face.

"Fakhir, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class? The lecture is about to start," Ahmed said, glancing at his watch.Fakhir hesitated, his gaze flicking back to Umeed.

"I was just... never mind. You're right. I should get to class."Ahmed frowned, following Fakhir's gaze.

"Ah, I see. You're here for her, aren't you? Umeed, right?"Fakhir sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes. I just... I wanted to see her. But you're right, it would look weird if she saw me standing here without a reason."Ahmed clapped him on the back.

"Come on then, let's get to class. You'll find a way to talk to her later."Reluctantly, Fakhir allowed himself to be led away, casting one last look over his shoulder at Umeed.

Her laughter reached his ears, and he couldn't help but smile. He was determined to find a way to talk to her, no matter what.

Fakhir's Pov

Throughout the lecture, I found it hard to concentrate. My thoughts kept drifting back to Umeed-her smile, her laughter, the way she seemed to light up the room.

I replayed our brief encounter at the market in my mind, trying to find a way to approach her without seeming too forward.

"Fakhir, are you with us?" Professor Rahim's voice broke through my reverie, jolting me back to the present.

"Y-yes, Professor," I stammered, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment as the class turned to look at me.

"Good. Please pay attention. This material is important for your upcoming exams," he said sternly before continuing with his lecture.I tried to focus,

but my mind kept wandering. After class, I met up with Imran and Ahmed in the cafeteria.

They were deep in conversation about a football match, but my mind was elsewhere.

"Earth to Fakhir," Imran said, waving a hand in front of my face.

"You're spacing out again. What's on your mind?"I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

"It's Umeed. I can't stop thinking about her. I want to talk to her, but I don't know how." I replied .

"You've got it bad, my friend. Why don't you just go up to her and say hi? It's not rocket science." Ahmed chuckled.

"I know, but it's not that simple," I replied, frustration creeping into my voice.

"I don't want to come off as creepy or make her uncomfortable."Imran nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe you could find a reason to talk to her. Something casual, you know? Like asking about a class or a project", I considered this. It seemed like a good idea, but I needed to find the right moment. I couldn't afford to mess this up.

Umeed's Pov

The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting a soft glow over the rows of desks as I settled into my usual seat by the window.

The English Literature class was one of my favorites, a sanctuary where I could immerse myself in the words of great authors and poets.

Today, however, my thoughts were a bit scattered.I glanced around the room, noting the usual faces.

My Bestfriend Qayanat was sitting next to me, flipping through her notes. We exchanged a smile, and I returned to arranging my books and papers.

The hum of conversation filled the room, a comforting backdrop to my thoughts.

As I looked up, my eyes wandered to the doorway, and I noticed a figure standing just outside.

At first, I couldn't make out who it was. He seemed familiar, but his back was facing me, making it difficult to recognize him.

He was tall, with a commanding presence, and he was talking to another student, who occasionally glanced over his shoulder into the classroom.

"Who's that?" I whispered to Qayanat, nodding towards the door.Qayanat followed my gaze and shrugged.

"Not sure. Maybe someone looking for a friend or waiting for a class to end?"I watched the figure for a few more moments, a strange sense of curiosity tugging at me.

There was something about his stance, the way he held himself, that seemed oddly familiar. But I couldn't quite place it.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the upcoming lesson instead.The minutes ticked by, and the figure remained at the doorway, still deep in conversation with his friend.

The teacher would arrive any moment now, and I wondered if he realized he might be blocking the entrance.

The thought made me smile slightly.Just then, the figure turned his head slightly, and for a brief second, I caught a glimpse of his profile.

My heart skipped a beat. Could it be Fakhir? The thought seemed absurd at first-why would he be standing outside my class? But the resemblance was striking.

His strong jawline, the determined set of his mouth, and even the way he carried himself reminded me so much of him.

"Umeed, are you okay?" Qayanat's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yes. I'm fine," I replied, tearing my gaze away from the doorway.

"Just thought I recognized someone, that's all."Qayanat gave me a curious look but didn't press further. As the teacher walked in,

the figure finally moved away, blending into the throng of students passing by in the hallway.

I tried to shake off the strange feeling that had settled over me. It couldn't have been Fakhir, could it?Moments of Doubt The class began, but my mind kept drifting back to the figure in the doorway.

I tried to focus on the lecture, taking notes diligently, but every now and then, my thoughts would wander.

Why was I so fixated on this? It was just a random student, probably waiting for a friend or killing time before his next class.

As the lesson continued, I found myself replaying the brief glimpse I had caught.

Fakhir and I had only met a few times, and our interactions had been brief but memorable.

There was something about him that intrigued me-his quiet intensity, his intelligence, and the way he seemed genuinely interested in our conversations.But he was also distant, almost aloof.

Unlike the other students who were always bustling with energy and chatter, Fakhir had a certain calmness about him, a reserved nature that set him apart.

It was this very quality that made me curious about him, wanting to know more about the person behind the composed exterior.

When the class finally ended, I gathered my things, my mind still buzzing with thoughts of Fakhir.

Qayanat and I walked out together, discussing the upcoming project. As we stepped into the hallway, I couldn't help but glance around, half-expecting to see the mysterious figure again.

But he was gone. The hallway was filled with students hurrying to their next classes, and there was no sign of the person who had captured my attention earlier.

I sighed, pushing the thoughts aside. Maybe it was just my imagination.

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Bye bye allahafiz
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