Aape banda sikh janda kha kha ke thokran ji
Thokran badaaman naalo tez hundi aan
Hauli hauli haasil mukaam hunda aan
Hauli hauli mehnatan naal naam hunda aan
Pehlan pehlan har banda aam hunda aan
Aam Jahe Munde Song
by Pardhaan and Parmish Verma

Performance

Author pov

Umeed's patience wore thin as she tried to wake Qayanat from her deep slumber.

The clock showed 7:20 AM, and they had less than forty minutes to get to the university for their rehearsal.

Umeed had always been the punctual one, the planner, while Qayanat often needed a gentle nudge-or sometimes a firm one-to get moving.

"Qayanat, wake up! We need to be at the university by 8," Umeed's voice was insistent, but she tempered it with understanding.

She knew Qayanat's love for sleep, especially after late nights spent perfecting their dance routines.

"just 2 more minutes," Qayanat murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow as she clung to the remnants of sleep.

"No, get up! We have to practice for the performance next week," Umeed said firmly, deciding to take action. With a quick tug, she stripped the blanket away from Qayanat, exposing her to the cool morning air.

Qayanat grumbled in protest but finally relented, sitting up with a resigned sigh.

Umeed gave her a sympathetic smile, knowing that despite the initial resistance, Qayanat would soon be as determined as ever once they got going.

They had been through this routine before, the cycle of reluctance followed by commitment.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," Qayanat muttered, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and rubbing her eyes to dispel the drowsiness.

Umeed nodded, satisfied.

"Let's get ready quickly. We can grab something to eat on the way," she suggested, knowing the value of starting the day with a full stomach.

As Qayanat hastily got dressed, Umeed's mind drifted to their upcoming performance. It wasn't just another routine-they were aiming to impress, to showcase their dedication and talent.

For Umeed, dance was more than a hobby; it was her passion, her way of expressing emotions that words couldn't encapsulate.

Minutes later, they were out the door, navigating the familiar streets toward the university campus.

The morning air was crisp, invigorating their senses and fueling their anticipation for the day ahead.

They arrived at the dance studio just in time to join their fellow performers, exchanging greetings and catching up on each other's weekend adventures.

Their instructor, Ms. Ananya, a seasoned choreographer with a reputation for excellence, greeted them with a warm smile.

"Alright, everyone, let's warm up and then we'll dive into the routines," she announced, her voice carrying authority and encouragement in equal measure.

The next few hours passed in a blur of movement, music, and meticulous corrections.

Umeed danced with focus and determination, pushing herself to embody the essence of each routine.

She felt a surge of pride every time she nailed a difficult sequence or synchronized perfectly with Qayanat.

During a short break, Umeed approached Qayanat with a bottle of water and a reassuring smile.

"You're doing great," she said sincerely, her eyes reflecting admiration and camaraderie.

Qayanat smiled gratefully, the fatigue momentarily lifting from her features. "Thanks, Umeed. Couldn't do it without you," she replied, her voice tinged with affection.

As the rehearsal progressed, Umeed couldn't shake off a nagging feeling that something else was on Qayanat's mind.

They had been friends for years, sharing their dreams, fears, and aspirations.

Umeed had always been the one to offer support, to listen when Qayanat needed to talk. But lately, there had been a distance-a hesitation in Qayanat's smiles, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

As they wrapped up the rehearsal, Umeed lingered behind, waiting until they were alone before broaching the subject.

"Qayanat, is everything okay?" she asked gently, her concern evident in her voice.

Qayanat hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering away before meeting Umeed's eyes.

"I... I've been thinking," she began slowly, choosing her words with care. "About what comes after graduation. About where dance fits into everything."

Umeed listened intently, sensing the weight behind Qayanat's words. It was a conversation they had skirted around before-the uncertainty of the future, the clash between passion and practicality.

"I love dancing, you know that," Qayanat continued, her voice wavering slightly.

"But sometimes I wonder if I should be focusing on something more... stable. Something that guarantees a future."

Umeed took a moment to process Qayanat's words, her heart aching with empathy.

She had always admired Qayanat's unwavering dedication to dance, but she also understood the pressures and uncertainties that came with pursuing a career in the arts.

"Qayanat, you're incredibly talented," Umeed said earnestly, reaching out to gently squeeze her friend's hand.

"And whatever you decide, I'll be here to support you. We'll figure it out together, okay?"

Qayanat nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Umeed. I needed to hear that."

With a renewed sense of determination, they packed up their things and headed back towards the dormitory.

The sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the campus grounds.

For Umeed, this day had been more than just another rehearsal-it had been a reminder of the bond they shared, the challenges they faced together, and the unwavering support that defined their friendship.

As they walked side by side, Umeed knew that whatever path Qayanat chose, they would navigate it together.

Their journey was far from over, but with each step, they grew stronger, more resilient, and more determined to chase their dreams-whatever they may be.

______________

" Pathar ki hai duniya jazbaat nahi samajahti,
Dil mein kya hai baat nahi samajahti,
Tanha toh chaand bhi hai sitaaro Ke beech,
Lekin chaand Ka dard bewafa raat nahi samajahti
______________

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Bye bye allahafiz
I Belli miei