On the wet sand beside the seashore, the strong, tall man was laying with a cigarette in his hand. His bike parked a few feet away from him. The environment there was serene and noiseless as no one was allowed then on the beach that he owned. It was not a big deal for a billionaire like him. He had a lot more than that. Wealth, power, the respect he had all of them but lacked the most important thing that couldn't be bought with money. He lacked inner peace. He inhaled the vinous smoke as the corner of his lips twitched in a sad smile. His eyes deceived him being moist and a lone tear slipped down his face on the sand. The sand sucked the water as soon as it fell on it, and he wondered if his pain disappeared in thin air like that. He breathed out a puff of smoke through his nose and mouth. Looking up at the sky with the sad smile plastered on his face he spoke up, "Why so hatred for me, ya Rab?" Miles away from him the girl with a cuddling baby in her arms uttered looking up at the sky, "I express my deep gratitude to You for sending this angel to me, Ya Rab."

In the quiet recesses of the heart, there exists a mystery that has confounded men for centuries-a creation so delicate, yet so resilient, that even a mere glance, if harsh, can unravel her. She weeps not just with her eyes, but with her very soul, each tear a testament to the depth of her emotions, each sob a silent symphony of pain that echoes in the corridors of the heart. To the unknowing, it is baffling-how could a single tear, shed by someone barely known, hold the power to make the heart twitch with an unfamiliar ache? And yet, this fragile creation, with her trembling lips and quivering voice, has the power to melt the hardest of hearts. A single, tender kiss placed upon those trembling lips can drown an ocean of anguish, can soothe wounds that words could never reach. It is a paradox, this power she holds-a power unfaded by time, unchanged by the passing of centuries. It is the same today as it was in days long past, a timeless dance of vulnerability and strength, of love and longing. And it is in this dance that the heart finds its truest rhythm, beating in time with the mystery of a woman. ~~~ Delve into a world where tradition and love intertwine, where the echoes of a prestigious legacy reverberate through the corridors of a grand Jaamidar estate.

"Congratulations! Mrs. Kh-" he forwards his hand for a handshake. "Miss Quraishi" she cut in while giving him a firm handshake back, holding her award on the other hand. "What ?" he asks her while observing her every facial feature intently. Try to familiarize himself with her new look which has her unique features but still gives a different vibe. "Its MISS Quraishi" she replies calmly with emphasizing 'miss' word, staring him back while trying to have emotionless expression. Sound of claps break their staring competition and bring them back to the real world, where they are standing in front of a thousand people on stage. "Congratulations! MISS Mariam Quraishi" he says 'miss' word mockingly. "Thank you, Mr. Arsalan Khan" she says, pulling her hand from his grasp immediately, royally ignore his mockery. ___________________________________________________ My first Book. Give it try & let me know your thoughts. *Images used in this book belong to their respective owners. I don't have any rights on them*