Scene One
A Policy That Changes the Pulse – Rimsha Takes the Lead
The conference room at Amana Mall was full, yet unusually quiet.
Department heads, floor managers, shop representatives, and a few senior staff members sat around the long oval table. Files were open, notebooks ready—but all eyes were on Rimsha.
She stood at the head of the table, calm yet firm.
"This meeting," she began, "is not about profit margins or footfall numbers."
A few people exchanged glances.
"It's about people," she continued. "And how we treat them."
Imran sat beside her, silent but attentive.
Rimsha clicked the projector. The slide read:
Amana Mall – Internal Ethics & Welfare Policy
She spoke clearly.
"From today onward, Amana Mall will officially implement three major internal policies."
She raised her fingers one by one.
"First: Fixed working hours and mandatory weekly off for all staff—including cleaners and security."
Murmurs filled the room.
"Second: A grievance redressal committee led by women mentors, supervised directly by management."
Sara looked up, surprised.
"And third," Rimsha paused, "maternity support and childcare flexibility for female employees."
A man from accounts hesitated.
"Ma'am… yeh policies cost badha sakti hain."
Rimsha nodded.
"Bilkul badha sakti hain," she replied calmly. "Lekin jo cheez izzat aur wafadari khareed sakti ho, usay kharcha nahi kehte."
The room fell silent.
Imran finally spoke.
"Amana Mall sirf building nahi hai," he said. "Yeh zimmedari hai. Aur main Rimsha ke saath hoon."
One by one, heads nodded.
That day, Amana Mall didn't just update its handbook.
It updated its soul.
---
Scene Two
The Offer – Temptation at a Crossroad
That afternoon, Imran sat across from two sharply dressed men in a private office.
One introduced himself smoothly.
"Mr. Imran, we represent a regional investment group. We've been observing Amana Mall closely."
The other smiled.
"We want you."
Imran frowned slightly.
"Explain."
"We want you to partner with us. You'll manage our upcoming projects. High returns. Minimal risk."
Imran leaned back.
"And Amana Mall?"
The man waved a hand casually.
"You can step back gradually. Let professionals handle it."
Imran's jaw tightened.
He stood up.
"Gentlemen," he said firmly, "I'm not for sale."
They looked surprised.
"I appreciate your interest," he continued, "but if you bring offers, bring them for Amana Mall. Not for me leaving it."
The men exchanged glances.
One tried again.
"Think practically. Emotional attachment often blocks growth."
Imran smiled faintly.
"No," he replied. "It defines it."
The meeting ended quickly.
Imran walked out—not lighter, but clearer.
---
Scene Three
Little Hearts, Big Lessons – Fatima's First Conflict
At City School, Fatima sat quietly, her tiny hands folded.
Her teacher, Miss Alina, crouched beside her.
"Fatima, tum ro kyun rahi ho?"
Fatima sniffed.
"Zara ne mera colour le liya… aur phir kaha ke main chhoti hoon."
Miss Alina looked across the room where Zara sat, avoiding eye contact.
She gently brought both girls together.
"Zara," she said softly, "aap ne kya kaha?"
Zara hesitated.
"Main… mazaak kar rahi thi."
Fatima looked down.
Miss Alina placed a hand on both their shoulders.
"Bachon," she said, "chhota hona kamzori nahi hoti. Aur mazaak woh hota hai jo dono ko hansa de."
She turned to Fatima.
"Aur tum, agar koi baat bura lagay, bolna seekhna hota hai."
Fatima nodded slowly.
That afternoon, Fatima returned home unusually quiet.
Rimsha noticed instantly.
"Kya hua, meri jaan?"
Fatima looked up.
"Mama… agar koi mujhe kam samjhay… to main kya karoon?"
Rimsha knelt down.
"Sach bolna," she said gently. "Aur apni izzat ko chup nahi rehne dena."
Fatima hugged her tightly.
A lesson learned.
Early.
---
Scene Four
The Album – When the Past Knocks Softly
That evening, the house was wrapped in silence.
Kulsoom aunty opened an old cupboard she hadn't touched in years.
At the back lay a faded photo album.
She sat down slowly and opened it.
There it was.
A photograph.
Two young women stood side by side—radiant, carefree.
Kulsoom.
And Samina.
Both dressed in Eid clothes, bangles shining, smiles untouched by time.
Kulsoom aunty's fingers trembled.
"Samina…" she whispered.
Maryam and Rimsha's mother.
Her younger sister.
She remembered that Eid-ul-Fitr vividly—the laughter, the mehndi, the shared dreams.
"You said zindagi aasaan hogi," Kulsoom murmured, tears rolling down. "Aur main ne tum par yaqeen kiya."
She closed her eyes.
Years of silence surfaced—unsaid apologies, unhealed wounds, unspoken pride.
Maryam quietly stood at the doorway.
"Khalala?" she asked softly.
Kulsoom aunty looked up.
"Aao," she said.
Maryam sat beside her.
Kulsoom held the photograph between them.
"Main ne bohat dair kar di," she said. "Maafi maangne mein… aur khud ko maaf karne mein."
Maryam placed her hand over hers.
"Ab bhi waqt hai," she said gently.
Kulsoom aunty nodded.
That night, she prayed longer than usual.
Not for forgiveness.
But closure.
---
Scene Five
Two Partners, One Vision
Later that night, Imran and Rimsha sat on the balcony.
The city lights flickered below.
Imran spoke quietly.
"Aaj mujhe offer mila tha."
Rimsha turned.
"Tum ne kya kaha?"
"Mana kar diya," he replied simply.
She smiled faintly.
"Mujhe umeed thi."
Imran looked at her.
"Mujhe sirf Amana Mall ke liye offers chahiye," he said. "Kyun ke tum ne isay ghar bana diya hai."
Rimsha rested her head on his shoulder.
"Phir hum saath hi aage badhenge," she said.
"Hammesha," he replied.
---
Scene Six
Night Peace – The Last Door Closed
Before sleeping, Kulsoom aunty placed the photo album back—but this time, on the shelf.
Not hidden.
She whispered,
"Ab tumhara bojh nahi uthaoongi."
In the next room, Fatima slept peacefully.
In another, plans were being shaped—not by greed, but purpose.
And somewhere between policy papers, childhood lessons, and old photographs—
A family healed another layer.
---
End of Chapter