After this, Aizal and Musfira returned to the hostel, as Aizal had a severe headache and no strength left to stay there any longer. Supporting her, Musfira brought her to the room and said in a worried tone,
"You rest, Aizal. I'll bring some tea for you."
Aizal nodded with a faint smile and lay down on the bed. Due to exhaustion and pain, her eyes soon began to close. Little did she know that this very day had already marked the beginning of an unseen turn in her life.
Meanwhile, Salar and Dr. Zaheer Ahmed, after attending the seminar, were on their way back to the hotel. The car moved silently along the illuminated roads of Ankara. Suddenly, a faint smile appeared on Salar's face, as if an unfamiliar thought had found its place in his heart.
Zaheer looked at him closely and said with a smile,
"What's the matter, Salar? You seem a bit different today. Was the seminar that interesting, or is there something else?"
Keeping his gaze fixed outside the window, Salar replied in a composed tone,
"Nothing special… just an ordinary day."
But despite the firmness in his voice, a certain image kept surfacing in his eyes—a serene face with lake-like blue eyes that had somehow become the cause of his restlessness.
After repeated insistence from Zaheer, Salar finally had to step out of the hotel.
"Come on, Salar, we've come all this way—how can we leave without seeing the most beautiful view of Ankara?" Zaheer said with a smile.
After a few moments of silence, Salar nodded slightly.
"Alright… let's see your Ankara."
Soon, the car was heading toward the historic Ankara Castle. This centuries-old fortress, with its towering walls, offered a breathtaking view of the entire city. The cool night air and the lights stretching into the distance gave the atmosphere a mysterious charm. Both of them stood at the height of the castle, looking at the city below, where Ankara shimmered like a field of stars.
Zaheer said, gazing at the city,
"This is old Ankara… a beautiful blend of history and silence. But I still have to show you the real, modern Ankara."
Salar glanced at the city and said indifferently,
"Let's go."
Within a short while, the car stopped in front of the famous and luxurious Atakule Tower. The tall structure looked magnificent under the night lights. From above, the entire city resembled a spread of glowing jewels. The glass walls and the soft lights of the revolving restaurant added to the charm of the place. It was considered one of Ankara's most iconic locations, where the modern and captivating face of the city could be clearly seen.
Zaheer smiled and said,
"This is Ankara's most exclusive spot… every major businessman and special guest comes here."
Salar stood silently, looking at the city. For a moment, those same blue eyes flashed in his mind, and a faint unease settled in his heart. But the very next moment, his ego and pride overpowered all such feelings.
Straightening up, he said with a slight smile,
"Beauty is not meant to be admired… it's meant to be possessed."
Zaheer looked at him meaningfully but said nothing. He knew that Salar's tone carried its usual pride… yet today, behind that pride, there was also an unfamiliar restlessness.
*A man made of dust holds pride so dear,*
*Unaware that pride befits only the Divine alone,*
*When pride shatters, downfall follows,*
*Even from thrones, one falls in search of support,*
*Only then does the truth reveal itself—*
*Man was made of dust… and to dust he shall return.*
After returning to the hotel, both went to their respective rooms. But that same face kept reappearing in Salar's mind—blue eyes, silent dignity, and an inexplicable attraction. He smiled unconsciously, but the next moment, he composed himself. He immediately pushed away the thought of that beautiful face, because in Salar's view, such emotions held no value. He was known in his world as a playboy—arrogant, self-willed, and egotistical—someone who considered everyone insignificant except himself. And so, this soft stirring within his heart stood against his very ego.
The next morning, sitting at the breakfast table, Salar said seriously,
"Zaheer, book the return flight for today."
Zaheer looked at him in surprise.
"So soon? We can stay till tomorrow evening. We've come this far—let's enjoy a bit more."
Salar fell silent for a moment. He couldn't say anything further, only nodded slightly. The truth was, he himself wanted to stay… but he wasn't ready to admit it, even to himself. Because, in his eyes, staying for the sake of a single face was against his pride.
After a few moments, he said quietly,
"Alright… we'll stay till tomorrow evening."
Zaheer looked at him in surprise but said nothing.
Suddenly, as if casually, Salar added,
"And yes… the conference at Hacettepe University Ankara today—we'll attend that again."
Zaheer was stunned.
"What? Salar… until yesterday you said you had no interest in universities or conferences, and now you want to go again?"
Salar immediately turned his gaze away and replied calmly,
"Zaheer… it's an international Medical & Innovation Conference. Doctors, researchers, and business investors from all over the world are there. Places like this offer the best networking opportunities. Yesterday was just a formal appearance—today we'll meet people properly… might as well make the most of this trip."
Zaheer looked at him meaningfully and suppressed a smile but said nothing.
Salar fixed his gaze outside the window. His face was calm… his tone composed… but somewhere deep within, an unfamiliar restlessness had settled—one he wasn't willing to acknowledge.
The next morning, Salar and Zaheer arrived at Hacettepe University. The university administration warmly welcomed them as special guests. On the other side, after their final paper, Aizal and Musfira were extremely happy. Their exams had gone well, and Aizal now felt far more at peace than before. They had already bought the necessary things for the next semester along with a few beautiful accessories. With a week's break ahead, both were eager to meet their families. As soon as the paper ended, they returned to the hostel without delay and began preparing for their trip to Pakistan.
Meanwhile, Salar was present in the conference hall, but his eyes repeatedly drifted toward the door. Somewhere in his heart, the desire to see that same face again had awakened. Eventually, he quietly stood up and walked out of the hall. Zaheer immediately followed him and asked with slight confusion,
"Where are you going, Salar?"
With a faint smile, Salar replied,
"Just… got bored. Thought I'd take a look around the university."
Then, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, he added softly,
"I've heard Ankara isn't lacking in beauty either."
Zaheer frowned at once.
"Salar… you're never going to change, are you?"
Just then, Salar lightly bumped into a girl coming from the opposite direction. It was Rozina—a senior medical student from Pakistan, quite popular in the university for her modern and bold style.
As soon as Rozina looked up, she paused for a moment. Tall, confident, and possessing a strikingly handsome presence like a Greek god, the young man before her was undeniably captivating. She found herself staring at him for a few moments.
And Salar… already well aware of his own charm, gave a faint, captivating smile and said,
"I'm sorry… I didn't expect such a beautiful collision here."
Composing herself, Rozina smiled and replied,
"It's okay… but it doesn't seem like you're a new student here."
Zaheer slightly shook his head, as if already familiar with Salar's habits.
Salar replied indifferently,
"Not new… but perhaps I came to see something new."
There was the usual confidence and a hint of arrogance in his tone… yet somewhere deep inside, he knew he had come here searching for someone else.
Watching the light conversation between Rozina and Salar, Zaheer's expression tightened, as he had always disliked such habits of his. Interrupting, he said seriously,
"Salar, let's go… we're getting late. It's already three, and our flight is at five."
Adjusting her hair, Rozina said politely yet gracefully,
"If you don't mind… may I join you? I have a few days off too, and I'm going to Pakistan. Thought the journey might be more memorable together."
Zaheer immediately replied flatly,
"Madam… we're not going to Pakistan, we're going to America."
Rozina was momentarily surprised, but then composed herself. Salar suppressed a slight smile; he knew Zaheer was deliberately trying to end the conversation.
At that moment, Salar's phone rang. He looked at the screen, and an involuntary smile appeared on his lips.
"Hello… Dada jaan."
A dignified, commanding voice came from the other side,
"How are you, my son?"
"I'm fine, Dada jaan."
The deep voice spoke again,
"I want you to meet me upon your return. There's something important to discuss."
For a moment, seriousness appeared in Salar's eyes.
"Yes, Dada jaan… as you wish."
After the call ended, he remained silent for a few moments. In his mind rose the towering buildings of America—
his magnificent penthouse in Manhattan, New York, from where the entire city looked like a jewel, and where Salar Shah ruled his own separate world.
Putting the phone back in his pocket, he turned as Rozina spoke again with a smile,
"So… can I join you for the journey?"
Salar glanced at Zaheer, then said with a charming smile,
"Why not… you can join us. Journeys become memorable with good company."
Zaheer immediately said in surprise,
"Salar! We're going to New York."
Salar replied calmly,
"No, Zaheer… plans have changed."
"What do you mean?" Zaheer asked, puzzled.
"Dada jaan wants me to meet him first. We'll have to go to Pakistan… and you know I can't refuse him."
A mix of surprise and happiness appeared on Rozina's face, while Zaheer looked at Salar silently for a moment, then smiled lightly,
"Wow, Salar Shah… impressive. Until yesterday, you had no plan of going to Pakistan, and now you're heading there directly."
Putting on his sunglasses, Salar said indifferently,
"Some decisions aren't made by us… they are made for us."
Though Salar Shah was considered a playboy, the truth was he never chased girls; rather, girls longed for a single glance or moment of attention from him. His personality, wealth, and presence were such that in every gathering, eyes naturally turned toward him. Yet despite all that, reaching his heart was never easy for anyone.
The airport arrival area buzzed with activity, filled with lights and noise. Passengers moved toward their respective flights—some in a hurry, others weighed down with fatigue.
Amid the crowd, Salar, Zaheer, and Rozina entered the lounge. Salar's face carried its usual composed confidence, as if the world around him held little importance. Zaheer wore a faint smile, while Rozina walked alongside, absorbed in her phone.
On the other side, Musfira and Aizal also arrived and stopped at a corner of the lounge. Despite the light fatigue of travel, the joy of returning home was evident on their faces.
Suddenly, an announcement echoed:
"Due to technical reasons, flight will be delayed."
A slight restlessness spread among the passengers. Salar frowned in annoyance, took out his phone, glanced at the screen, and walked away from the crowd toward a quieter corner, seeking a moment of solitude.
At the same time, Aizal looked at the display board and said softly to Musfira,
"Musfira… the flight is delayed. Should I offer Asr prayer?"
Musfira immediately nodded with a smile.
"Yes, I'll come with you."
Both of them walked toward a quieter part of the lounge.
At that very moment, Salar, his mood off due to the delay, walked toward a corner with his phone in hand. As he walked, his gaze suddenly fell ahead… and his steps halted.
That same face.
A few moments later, Aizal returned, spread her prayer mat in a clean corner, and stood up to pray. In her white dress and simple dupatta, she seemed to exist in a world of her own, far removed from the noise around her.
Salar's gaze lifted toward her involuntarily.
He wasn't someone whose eyes lingered on a scene like this… but for some reason, in that moment, he couldn't look away.
With the opening takbeer, Aizal immersed herself in prayer.
There was an innocent stillness on her face—no pretense, no artifice. Every movement carried grace and composure.
During the prayer, Aizal felt as if someone's gaze was fixed upon her. A slight unease stirred in her heart, but she lowered her eyes further and focused even more. Raising her hands for dua, she silently prayed for peace… then gently concluded her prayer.
As she stood, for a brief moment, her eyes fell in Salar's direction.
But immediately, she lowered her gaze… and turned her face away with complete indifference.
No surprise. No interest. Just a quiet displeasure.
She folded her prayer mat and walked straight toward Musfira, leaving as if no one else existed there.
That attitude…
was a subtle yet new blow to Salar's pride.
For the first time, he felt what it was like to be ignored despite being seen.
He stood there for a few moments, then composed himself with a faint smile… yet an unfamiliar discomfort had settled within him.
After some time, the boarding announcement was made. Passengers began moving toward the aircraft.
Inside the plane, as Salar walked toward his seat, he paused for a moment.
Aizal was seated right in front of him.
She sat facing the window, as if completely detached from the people around her. Salar took his seat.
This time, he did not look away.
He looked at her boldly… as if, for the first time, he had allowed himself to truly observe someone.
Aizal sensed it.
She slowly lifted her gaze… and found him looking at her.
A flicker of displeasure rose within her.
Among so many people, she did not like the way a stranger was looking at her so openly.
Silently, she rebuked him in her heart and immediately turned her face away—
as if delivering a clear message: **she had no interest in his attention.**
At that moment, Musfira glanced ahead and said softly,
"Aizal… isn't that Rozina sitting in front? Our university senior?"
Aizal cast a brief glance and replied indifferently,
"Maybe… I have nothing to do with anyone."
She returned to her conversation with Musfira.
On the other side, Zaheer's gaze suddenly fell on Musfira. He looked at her for a few moments, but Musfira immediately shot him an annoyed look and turned away.
The four of them were seated in the same row… yet it felt as if they belonged to four different worlds.
Salar would occasionally glance at Aizal again.
And each time she turned away with indifference…
it silently challenged his pride.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
For the first time…
someone had chosen to ignore Salar Shah instead of being drawn to him—
and that very indifference had begun to intrigue him in ways he did not yet understand.