The year 1989 had finally arrived.
Seventeen-year-old Adil Ali stood before the mirror in his room, adjusting the collar of his school uniform. For a few moments, he simply stared at his reflection.
The boy who had been reborn in 1972 was gone.
In his place stood a young man.
At six feet and one inch, with sharp features, broad shoulders, and expressive eyes, Adil had become strikingly handsome. Years of disciplined exercise had given him an athletic physique, while countless hours spent practicing expressions had made his smile and gaze naturally captivating.
Yet when he looked at himself, he didn't see a handsome young man.
He saw a dream.
Or rather, the countless days and nights that had built that dream.
"Adil!"
Meera's voice echoed from downstairs.
"If you keep staring at yourself, you'll miss breakfast!"
He laughed.
"Coming, Ma!"
Downstairs, the familiar scene awaited him.
Arif Ali sat behind his newspaper with a cup of tea.
Meera placed hot parathas on the table while muttering about how both father and son forgot the time whenever they started reading.
Seeing Adil enter, Arif lowered the newspaper and froze.
"You've grown again."
"Papa, I stopped growing last month."
Arif frowned.
"I don't believe it."
Meera smiled proudly.
"My son is becoming too handsome."
"And your son is becoming too expensive," Arif sighed dramatically. "His food bill keeps increasing."
All three burst into laughter.
These ordinary moments had become precious treasures.
Deep inside, Adil knew that no matter how much fame or wealth awaited him in the future, nothing could replace mornings like these.
School life had entered its final stage. Board examinations loomed ahead, and everyone around him seemed nervous.
Everyone except Adil.
Years of discipline had taught him something important.
Panic solved nothing.
Preparation solved everything.
His friends often wondered if he was secretly a machine.
"Don't you ever get stressed?" one of them asked.
Adil smiled.
"I do."
"Then why are you always calm?"
"Because worrying doesn't improve marks."
His friend groaned.
"Sometimes I hate how sensible you are."
Adil laughed.
But beneath his calm exterior, something had changed.
He could feel it.
For years, he had prepared.
Learned.
Practiced.
Improved.
And now…
The time to take his first step into the entertainment world was approaching.
Not films.
Not yet.
Television.
Exactly as he remembered from his previous life.
Television serials were becoming increasingly popular. Opportunities would arise soon.
He wasn't in a hurry.
But he knew his time was coming.
One evening, while practicing dialogues in front of his mirror, Meera quietly entered his room.
She watched silently for several minutes.
Adil was performing an emotional scene. Tears naturally appeared in his eyes, and his voice carried such pain that even she forgot he was acting.
When he finished, he noticed her.
"Ma?"
Meera smiled softly.
"You know, I stopped seeing you as a boy a long time ago."
"What?"
"I mean, when you act."
She sat beside him.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm watching someone else."
Adil smiled sheepishly.
"Is that good?"
"It's wonderful."
She gently touched his cheek.
"You were born for this."
Those words warmed his heart.
In his previous life, nobody had ever said such things to him.
Nobody had believed in him.
But now, he had parents who saw his dreams and accepted them.
And perhaps that was why he worked even harder.
Meanwhile, his singing practice continued steadily.
Though he had no intention of becoming a professional singer, his voice had improved considerably. Dance had become second nature, martial arts had sharpened his body and reflexes, and years of language studies had given him confidence in communicating with people from different backgrounds.
One Sunday evening, as father and son sat on the rooftop drinking tea, Arif suddenly spoke.
"Do you know what frightens me?"
Adil looked at him.
"What?"
"The future."
Adil smiled.
"Everyone fears it."
Arif nodded.
"But I don't fear for myself."
He turned toward his son.
"I fear for you."
Adil blinked.
"Me?"
"I know you want to become an actor."
"I know you will leave home one day."
"And honestly, I don't know anything about that world."
He smiled sadly.
"But I do know one thing."
"What?"
"No matter how famous you become…"
His voice became firm.
"Remain a good human being."
"People will praise you."
"People will criticize you."
"Some will love you."
"Some will hate you."
"But never lose yourself."
Adil remained silent.
Those simple words carried more weight than his father realized.
After all, his previous life had taught him that success without peace meant nothing.
He nodded.
"I promise, Papa."
Arif smiled.
"Good."
"That's enough for me."
That night, unable to sleep, Adil climbed to the roof.
The stars stretched endlessly above him.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years of preparation.
Seventeen years of discipline.
Seventeen years of waiting.
Most people would have called it excessive.
But Adil never regretted a single moment.
Because this life had given him something his previous life hadn't.
Time.
And he had used that time wisely.
He closed his eyes.
The future flashed through his mind.
Television.
Mumbai.
Auditions.
Success.
Failure.
New friendships.
Fame.
Love.
Dreams.
Everything was approaching.
And for the first time since his rebirth, excitement filled his heart.
Not because he had reached his destination.
But because he was finally approaching the starting line.
Opening his eyes, Adil looked at the moon and smiled.
"Almost."
The cool breeze brushed against his face.
And somewhere, far away, destiny quietly smiled as well.
Because after seventeen years of preparation, the world was finally about to meet Adil Ali.
And his journey had only just begun.