Return to Arwa’s story

At one end of the world, a man is finding himself.

But at the southern tip of Africa, what was destined to be a ‘pyaar’ story of note, had died a sudden death. When that plane went down, so had Arwa’s dreams of a future life with Musalman. Months had now passed since Musalman’s plane had crashed and she was now at University. She doesn’t socialize, moving straight to lectures and back home again. The matric ball photo of the two of them sits neatly in her wallet. She lies on a bed every night staring at it, hopelessly wondering what could’ve been.

Her parents and siblings try to cheer her up, but to no avail.

I’m worried about her

Mr Khan, hands folded behind his back, with a deep frown on his brow,stares through the rain soaked window. Weirdly enough, Musalman and Arwa shared the same surname, but were not related in any way.

He is gone now, she has to accept it, and move on !

Mrs Khan motions to him to be quiet, as Arwa’s room was within earshot.

The door flies open and Arwa, tears streaming down her face, shouts:

I can feel that he is alive. I can’t explain it, but I just know. Everyone think I’m crazy when I say that, but he is not gone from this earth.

Mrs Khan clicks her tongue disapprovingly and says:

See, I told you!

Back in Mumbai, Hajji Alli pours some Lassi for his student, who isn't as enthusiastic as he normally is.

What is the matter, Son?

Musalman tells his teacher that he yearns to make contact with Arwa to let her know that he is alive.

Not a chance!

Musalman sighs loudly.

Why not?

Hajji Alli sighs even louder:

We’ve been through this a million times. Your parents know that you are alright and that’s all that matters. They too have been sworn to secrecy and as much as it kills them to keep that piece of vital information from your err, friend, it is how it must be…For now.

Hajji Alli throws him a towel and hands him the cold beverage.

I have some news for you. Your time with me has drawn to a close. You have reached the optimum level of understanding of the power you have been blessed with. Now, your sword training starts.

Musalman, temporarily distracted from his ghostly existence, seems a bit more excited.

Cool stuff, when do we start?

The old master takes the steel cup from his hand, takes a sip and says:

It is not a matter of when, but rather…WHERE!