Lab 2 — 12:05 PM
The lecture was over.
Students gathered their things — notebooks, pens, phones.
Voices rose, chairs scraped, laughter echoed.
C closed her register carefully.
Her hobby at night before sleeping she will revise again ,will make notes
She stood up to leave.
A figure blocked her path.
Ray.
He stood in front of her, arms crossed, smirking.
“You covered girl,” he said loudly.
“I’m Ray.
You are not polite, okay?”
C didn’t look at him.
She stepped to the side.
He stepped with her.
She stepped to the other side.
He blocked her again.
“You think you’re special?
Ignoring everyone?
Acting like you’re better than us?”
C said nothing.
Her eyes stayed down.
He doesn’t exist, thats who she is.
Only the studies.
Only the dream.
Only thing exist her family ,dreams of buying plot for baba to reconstruct the house ,buy baba car,renovate his ice cream shop,buy ami a magic washing machine ,she earn so hamad bhai anita d continued the study
She ignored every one like no one exist
She walked around him — quickly, quietly — and left the room.
Behind her, she heard laughter.
She didn’t look back.
The Corridor
She walked fast..
A voice called from behind.
“C!
C, wait!”
She turned around.
Riya was running toward her, Neha beside her, both slightly out of breath.
Riya’s green eyes were concerned.
“You okay?
You left so fast.”
C nodded.
“I’m fine.
I just…
wanted to leave.”
Riya looked at her — this small, quiet, covered girl who is so polite ,calm,postive vibe have topper energy, didn’t shout, didn’t complain.
Riya saw how her class fellow laughed after
She left.
“Come on,” Riya said softly.
“First, let me show you the canteen.”
C hesitated.
“Riya…
is there a prayer room in this university?
The hostel is far, and labs start at 1:30.”
Riya’s face softened.
She prays, Riya thought.
Even here.
Even on her first day.
“Yes,” Riya said.
“There’s a prayer room in the library.
Come.
I’ll show you.”
The Library — Software Department
The library was enormous.
C stopped at the entrance, staring.
Rows and rows of books stretched before her — shelves rising toward the ceiling, ladders attached to wheels, students sitting at long tables, laptops open, heads down.
The smell was familiar.
Paper.
Ink.
Quiet.
Like home, like college library she thought.
Riya guided her through the corridors.
“Washroom is here,” she said, pointing.
“Female section.
Clean.
Safe.”
C went inside.
She performed wudu — the familiar ritual, the cold water, the quiet movements.
Some things don’t change, she thought.
Wherever you are, wudu is the same.
She came out, dried her hands, and followed Riya to a small room at the end of the hall.
Prayer Room — Sisters
C pushed the door open.
Soft carpet.
Clean walls.
A small shelf with Qurans.
No windows — just quiet, just peace.
She prayed.
Zuhr.
Slowly.
Carefully.
From her heart.
Ya Allah, thank you for this day.
Thank you for this chance.
Help me learn.
Help me remember why I’m here.
When she finished, she adjusted her hijab, pulled her dupatta over her shoulders, and put on her mask.
Ready, she thought.
Ready to continue.
The Library Tour
Riya showed her everything.
“Software Engineering section — here.
Programming — here.
Networking — here.
Mathematics — here.”
C’s eyes moved from shelf to shelf, section to section.
So many books, she thought.
So much to learn.
Riya pointed to a row of computers near the window.
“These are for students.
You can use them for practice, for research, for assignments.”
C looked at the computers.
“Can I use them for practical?
I don’t have a laptop yet.
Can I use these?”
Riya smiled.
“That’s why I brought you here.
I knew you would need them.”
She walked to a computer and tapped her university card on a small machine.
Beep.
The screen lit up.
“See?
Tap your card, log in with your student ID, and you’re ready.”
C touched the computer gently.
I will use this, she thought.
Every day.
Until I can buy my own.
Neha appeared from behind a shelf, holding a thick book.
“Look, C,” she said, her voice teasing but kind.
“Advanced programming.
This will help you in class.”
C looked at the book.
Then at Riya.
“Can I read this in my room?”
Riya nodded.
“You don’t have a library card yet.
But I will issue it on my name.
You read.
Return it when you’re done.”
She took the book to the front desk, tapped her card, and handed it to C.
“Here.
For you.”
C held the book carefully.
Knowledge, she thought.
In my hands.
Riya turned to the librarian.
“Please issue a library card for C Ismail.
Roll number eleven.
First semester, Software Engineering.”
The librarian nodded and began the paperwork.
C watched.
My card, she thought.
Soon.
The University Canteen — 12:45 PM
The canteen was crowded.
Students filled the tables — some eating, some talking, some staring at phones.
The smell of food filled the air — rice, chicken, spices, something sweet.
Riya guided C through the line.
“Halal section is here,” she said.
“Rice.
Chicken.
Salad.
Bread.
Choose what you want.”
C took a small portion of rice.
A small portion of chicken.
A small salad.
Not too much, she thought.
I don’t want to waste.
They sat at a table near the window.
Riya watched C eat — small bites, slow chewing, careful sips of water.
“You eat like a bird, little girl,” Riya said.
C looked up.
“I’m adjusting.
To the food.
I guess.”
Riya nodded.
“The cookies you shared — the gunzakhy — they were amazing.
Your mom is really the best cook.”
C smiled — small, quiet.
“Yes,” she said.
“My Ami is the best.”
Lab 2 — 1:30 PM
The computer lab was full.
Students sat in rows, screens glowing, keyboards clicking.
Some were talking.
Some were confused.
Some were already typing.
C sat in the front — her usual spot.
Register open.
Pen ready.
Eyes on the board.
Professor Elvin walked in.
“Alright, kiddos.
Let’s practice what we learned.”
He wrote code on the board — line by line, explaining each step.
x = 5 y = 10 print(x + y)
name = input(“Enter your name: “)
print(“Hello,”, name) New chapters come out on g.com first.
for i in range(3):
print(“Coding is fun”)
C wrote everything in her register first.
Then she typed it into the computer.
Her fingers moved slowly at first — unfamiliar with the keyboard, unfamiliar with the software.
But she didn’t give up.
She made mistakes.
She corrected them.
She tried again.
Around her, students whispered to each other, asking for help, sharing answers.
C worked alone.
I need to understand, she thought.
Not just copy.
Understand.
The Problem
She got stuck.
A loop.
A condition.
Something wasn’t working.
She stared at the screen.
What’s wrong?
She checked her code.
Line by line.
Character by character.
Then she saw it.
A missing colon.
She added it.
Ran the program.
It worked.
She exhaled — soft, relieved.
Professor Elvin noticed.
She didn’t raise her hand.
Didn’t call out.
Didn’t complain.
She just…
worked.
Good student, he thought.
Patient.
Persistent.
2:30 PM
Professor Elvin clapped his hands.
“Alright, kiddos.
That’s it for today.
Good work.
See you tomorrow.”
Students began packing.
Bags zipped.
Chairs scraped.
Voices rose.
C closed her register carefully.
She placed her pen beside it.
She had written everything — every word from the board, every explanation.
She stood up, adjusted her dupatta, and walked out.
Behind her, in the back row, Amir watched her leave.
She worked all day, he thought.
Didn’t complain.
Didn’t show off.
Just worked.
He wanted to say something.
Anything.
But he didn’t know how.
He packed his bag and left.
The Library — Again
C walked to the library.
The hallways were quieter now — students heading to canteens, to dorms, to study rooms.
Her footsteps echoed softly on the polished floor.
She entered the library.
The smell of books wrapped around her — paper, ink, silence.
She felt calm here.
She went to the software engineering section first.
She found a book on programming fundamentals — thick, detailed, full of examples.
She carried it to a table near the window.
Then she went to the discrete mathematics section.
Another book.
Concepts, proofs, logic problems.
She added it to her pile.
Then networking.
Then advanced English.
Four books.
She sat at the table near the window.
The afternoon light was soft — golden, warm, fading.
She opened the first book.
She began making notes.
Her handwriting was neat.
Small.
Precise.
Every definition, every example, every formula — written carefully in her register.
Hamad Bhai taught me to write clearly, she thought.
He said notes are like code.
If they are messy, nothing works.
She wrote.
And wrote.
And wrote.
The Prayer Room — 5:00 PM
She looked at her phone.
5:00 PM.
Asr time.
She closed her book, marked the page with a small piece of paper, and stood up.
She walked to the prayer room — the small, quiet room at the end of the hall.
She performed wudu in the female washroom.
Cold water.
Familiar movements.
Some things don’t change, she thought.
Wherever you are, wudu is the same.
She entered the prayer room.
Soft carpet.
Clean walls.
A small shelf with Qurans.
No windows — just quiet, just peace.
She prayed.
Asr.
Slowly.
Carefully.
From her heart.
Ya Allah, help me learn.
Help me remember.
Help me understand.
This is for my family.
For Hamad Bhai.
For Anita D.
For Bisma.
For Ami.
For Baba.
Please don’t let me fail.
She finished her prayer and sat for a moment, her hands in her lap, her heart quiet.
Then she stood up, adjusted her hijab, pulled her dupatta over her shoulders, and put on her mask.
She went back to the table near the window.
Opened the next book.
Continued making notes.
6:00 PM
Riya found her there.
The library was quieter now — fewer students, softer voices, the light turning from gold to blue.
C was writing.
Her register was open.
Three books were stacked beside her.
Her pen moved steadily across the page.
Riya stood for a moment, watching.
She’s been here since class ended, Riya thought.
Hours.
Just studying.
Just working.
She walked closer and sat beside her.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“I knew I would find you here.”
C looked up.
Her eyes were tired — but calm.
“I was making notes,” she said simply.
Riya smiled.
“There’s news.”
C tilted her head.
“I got an internship,” Riya said.
“At NovaTech.
Tomorrow is my joining.”
C nodded.
“Congratulations, Riya Baji.”
Riya’s smile widened.
“Thanks.
If you need anything — any help — I’m just a call away, okay?
Even if I’m not in the hostel, I’m still your senior.”
C nodded again.
“I will remember.”
Riya looked at the stack of books.
“You worked hard today.”
C looked down at her register — pages and pages of notes, already full.
“I have to,” she said quietly.
“I have a long way to go.”
Riya stood up.
“Come.
Let’s go back to the hostel.
You can study more tomorrow.”
C closed her book carefully.
Packed her register, her pens, the books she would borrow.
She followed Riya and Neha out of the library.
The Walk Back
The sky was soft — orange and pink, fading into blue.
Students walked in groups, laughing, talking.
C walked in silence.
She pulled her dupatta closer against the evening chill and kept walkingChapter 5 — Part 2: The First Day (Continued)
Room 101 — 6:15 PM
The door opened.
C stepped inside, her bag heavy with books, her register full of notes.
The room was warm — familiar now, after only a few days.
Riya entered behind her, her energy bright, her green eyes sparkling.
“Okay, everyone!” she announced, clapping her hands.
“I have news!”
Aminah looked up from her bed.
Yasmin paused her sketching.
Neha took off her headphones.
“I got the internship,” Riya said, grinning.
“At NovaTech.
Tomorrow is my joining.”
A chorus of congratulations filled the room.
“That’s amazing, Riya!”
“Well done!”
“Finally!”
Neha turned to C.
“NovaTech is the top software company here.
Last two and a half years, they’ve been sponsoring projects in our university.
Real talent hunters.”
Riya waved her hand modestly.
“I’m not that lucky.
My family requested my uncle.
At the end, he accepted.”
C tilted her head, confused.
Riya noticed.
“This morning — you met Professor Elvin.
He is my uncle.
Elvin Stewart.
My father’s brother.”
C nodded slowly.
Professor Elvin is Riya’s uncle, she thought.
That’s why he was so kind.
Then she remembered.
She looked at Sophia.
“Peter Stewart.”
Sophia laughed.
“Yes.
He is Uncle Elvin’s younger son.
And Riya’s cousin.”
C’s eyes moved between them — Riya, Sophia, the names, the connections.
Everyone is connected, she thought.
Like a family.
Aminah waved her hand.
“Ignore them, C.
How was your day?
Really?”
C thought for a moment.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
Aminah smiled.
“No worries.
First days feel strange.
New people, new place, new rules.
We all went through it.
We’re here to help.”
Sophia sat on C’s bed.
“You want to hear something funny?
In nursing department today, a student fainted during the first lecture.
Just fell off her chair.
The professor didn’t even stop talking.”
Aminah gasped.
“No!”
“Yes!
Just kept explaining the circulatory system while the girl was on the floor.”
The room laughed.
C smiled — small, quiet.
7:00 PM — Maghrib
The laughter faded.
C checked the time on her phone.
Maghrib, she thought.
She went to the washroom, performed wudu, and came back to the room.
The others were still talking, still laughing.
She spread her small prayer mat on the floor.
Faced the Qibla.
Prayed.
The room grew quiet around her.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
They waited.
When she finished, she folded her mat and placed it carefully in her cupboard.
The Canteen — 7:30 PM
The mess hall was crowded — students laughing, trays clattering, voices rising and falling.
C stood in line with Sophia and Riya.
She took a small portion of rice.
A small salad.
No chicken tonight.
Not hungry, she thought.
They sat at their usual table near the window.
C ate slowly — small bites, staring at her plate.
Sophia watched her.
“You okay?”
C looked up.
“I miss my Ami’s food.
I think I need more time.”
Sophia touched her hand gently.
“Take all the time you need.”
The Garden — 8:00 PM
The night air was cool.
C and Sophia walked slowly along the path.
The fountain sparkled in the distance.
The stars were bright — scattered across the sky like tiny lamps.
C stopped.
She looked up.
“Assalam o Alaikum, sky,” she said softly.
“How are you?”
Sophia stood beside her, listening.
“Today was my first day.
It felt…
good.
But I am far from home.
Very far.”
She paused.
“Please tell Hamad Bhai — I will study hard.
InshaAllah.
Tell my family…
I miss them.”
Sophia’s phone buzzed.
She glanced at it and laughed at something — a message, a joke, C didn’t know.
Riya appeared behind them.
“Kid, you okay?”
C didn’t turn around.
She kept looking at the sky.
“I miss them,” she said quietly.
“Six days, Riya.
Far from home.”
Riya hugged her — warm, tight, sisterly.
“Little kid,” she said softly.
“InshaAllah, one day this place will feel like home.
InshaAllah.”
They stood there for a moment — three girls, under the same sky, under the same stars.
Then they walked back to the room.
Room 101 — 9:00 PM
The room was quiet now.
Girls sat at their desks, studying.
Laptops glowed.
Pens scratched against paper.
C sat at her small table near the window.
She opened her register.
She began revising — reviewing every note from today’s classes.
Software Engineering.
Discrete Mathematics.
Programming.
Then she opened the library book — the advanced programming book Riya had given her.
She started reading.
Started making more notes.
Her handwriting was neat.
Small.
Precise.
Hamad Bhai said notes are like code, she thought.
If they are messy, nothing works.
She wrote.
And wrote.
And wrote.
10:00 PM
The room was still.
Aminah was reading.
Yasmin was sketching.
Neha had her headphones on.
Sophia was on her phone, smiling at something.
Riya was packing her bag for tomorrow — her first day at NovaTech.
C kept studying.
The library book was thick.
The concepts were new — advanced, beyond what they had learned in class.
.
She turned the page and kept reading.
12:00 AM — Midnight
The clock on her phone changed.
12:00 AM.
C closed her book.
She closed her register.
She placed her pen beside them — neatly, carefully.
Thank you, Allah, she whispered in her heart.
For this day.
For this chance.
For helping me learn.
She looked around the room.
Aminah was asleep.
Yasmin had fallen asleep with her sketchbook on her chest.
Neha’s headphones had slipped off.
Sophia was curled under her blanket.
Riya was still awake, scrolling through her phone.
“Good night, little kid,” Riya whispered.
“Good night, Riya Baji,” C whispered back.
She lay down on her bed.
Pulled the blanket over herself.
Closed her eyes.
The Thought
Her heart beat faster.
She saw blue eyes.
A calm voice.
Silver rings.
“You can contact me anytime.”
She closed her eyes tighter.
No, she told herself.
No distractions.
I am here to study.
For my family.
For Hamad Bhai.
For Anita D.
Not for this.
Please.
She turned on her side.
Pulled the blanket higher.
Breathed slowly.
Not you, she thought.
Please.
Not you.
Her heart slowed.
Her breathing deepened.
She fell asleep.
She closed her books at midnight’s chime, A quiet soul, a borrowed time.
She prayed, she wrote, she learned, she tried— No pride, no boast, no voice inside.
But in the dark, before she slept, A memory stirred—a face, a step.
Blue eyes she tried to push away— Not ready yet.
Not for this day.
— To be continued