In a close-knit conservative Muslim community, Amina, a young and talented girl, dreams of becoming a fashion designer specializing in modest and hijabi fashion.
As Amina's family pressures her into an arranged marriage, she fears her dreams will be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Naino ne bandhi Kaisi door ve... Munsib hi mera, Mera chor hyee....💌 ___________________________________________
The sun was bright, and Professor Hassan sat in his cabin, scribbling notes for his next lecture. His desk was cluttered with papers, textbooks, and a cup of coffee that had gone cold hours ago. He frowned, deep in thought, when suddenly, a mischievous idea crept into his mind. Without much thought, he grabbed a small scrap of paper and scribbled something on it. He carefully folded the note into a tiny square and slipped it into his coat pocket, a faint smirk playing on his lips. With that little task done, he returned to his lecture prep, focused once again.
Amina, on the other hand, was not having such a composed morning. The sun was already up, and she groggily glanced at the clock. "Dur phate muh, Amina! Aaj fir late ho gayi!" she cursed herself, throwing her hijab on haphazardly while running out the door, her breakfast abandoned on the counter. The moment she stepped out of her apartment, the cold breeze slapped her in the face, as if to remind her that today was no day to be sluggish.
The realization struck her hard-Professor Hassan's class was the first lecture of the day. "Aa bail, mujhe maar!" she muttered, her heart racing as she dashed towards the university. Everyone knew being late for Professor Hassan's class was basically signing up for your own execution. No one dared to do it. But here she was, running like her life depended on it.
Panting heavily, she finally reached the university's corridor, her lungs burning from the cold air. Just as she turned the corner at breakneck speed, she collided headfirst into what felt like a brick wall.
"Ouch!" she yelped, before her anger flared up. "Dekh kar chala karo na yaar, sabko mere saamne hi aana hota hai kya!" she grumbled under her breath, not even bothering to look up. Her books, papers, and even a sketchpad scattered across the floor. Annoyed and flustered, she bent down to gather her things, too busy fuming to even glance at the human obstacle she had just crashed into.
It was only when the 'brick wall' bent down as well to help her collect the scattered items that her irritation peaked. Who did this guy think he was, trying to be chivalrous now?
She snatched her sketchpad from the stranger's hands and was about to let out another angry remark when her eyes finally traveled up-only to freeze in pure horror.
It wasn't just any random guy.
It was Professor Hassan.
Her blood turned cold, cheeks flushing an embarrassing shade of pink. She stared at him, wide-eyed, while he continued to hand her the remaining books, expressionless as always. But Amina, in her frazzled state, completely missed the small gesture Hassan made, sliding the tiny chit into her sketchbook.
"Aa...I...I...uh...thank you," she stammered, fumbling to take the books from him. Hassan, without saying a word, simply stood up and straightened his coat, giving her a curt nod before walking towards the classroom.
Amina, still stunned, hurriedly fixed her scarf and scurried behind him. She wanted to melt into the ground. Of all people to bump into... it had to be him!
By the time she reached the class, her breath had steadied, but her nerves were still on edge. Settling into her usual seat, she tried to act as if nothing had happened. Just then, Daniel, her classmate, greeted her.
"Hey Amina, can I sit here?" he asked with a friendly smile.
"Yeah sure," she replied casually, still preoccupied by her embarrassing encounter.
The classroom was spacious and modern, equipped with a large projector at the front. The air conditioning hummed softly in the background, keeping the room crisp and cool. The high ceiling made the room feel even bigger, and the walls were adorned with abstract art, a nod to the creative environment they studied in. The students, all with sketchpads and pencils at the ready, buzzed with excitement, knowing they would soon start working on their new designs.
Just as the chatter settled down, Professor Hassan entered the room, his footsteps echoing off the polished floor. He moved to the front of the class, turning on the projector and adjusting the screen.
Amina opened her sketchbook, flipping through the pages. That's when a small folded chit fell out and landed on her desk. She frowned, picking it up. Unfolding the paper, she was greeted with three simple words: "Maazrat chahta hoon"-an apology. In the corner of the chit was a tiny tulip sketch, simple yet beautifully drawn.
Her eyes widened in surprise. Who could this be from? Her mind raced as she glanced around the room. Then it hit her. Her gaze snapped to Professor Hassan, who was busy setting up his lecture notes on the projector. It couldn't be... she thought, her heart skipping a beat.
Just then, Hassan looked up from his notes, his eyes meeting hers for the briefest moment. Amina quickly looked away, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It wasn't a full smile-just enough to acknowledge what she had realized. Professor Hassan had written her an apology for that day's misunderstanding.
But there was no time to dwell on that as Hassan's voice boomed through the room.
"Today, we will begin a new project," he announced, pacing slowly in front of the class. "This project will require you to compile all your design ideas into one cohesive collection. It should showcase your vision and creativity. By tomorrow, I expect a complete set of drafts."
A collective groan filled the room, but Hassan's expression didn't change. "You will have the entire evening to work on it, and I expect nothing less than your best. If you want to succeed in this field, you need to be consistent and disciplined," he added sternly.
Daniel leaned over to Amina and whispered, "Looks like we're pulling an all-nighter again."
She chuckled quietly, nodding. "Seems like it. Better stock up on coffee."
With that, the lecture went on smoothly. Hassan explained the intricacies of their new project, discussing various design themes, fabric choices, and how to express individuality through their work. Despite the seriousness of the topic, Amina couldn't help but sneak a glance at her sketchbook every now and then, her mind drifting back to the chit.
Once the class was dismissed, Amina and Daniel packed up their things, already brainstorming ideas for their project.
"Well, good luck with this," Daniel said, giving her a thumbs up as they left the room.
"Same to you," Amina replied with a grin, her thoughts still lingering on the surprising apology she had received. As she made her way out of the university, she couldn't help but feel a little lighter, the tension between her and Professor Hassan finally eased.
