She Lost Her Abilities To Talk And Listen, Now I Will Make Her What She Desires

The city's night air was pleasantly hard and dry, and the glow of streetlights cast a warm ambiance on the cold streets. A talented young artist walked quickly down the sidewalk, holding her masterpiece in one hand and holding a gleaming gold trophy in the other. The golden light of success was reflected in her eyes, mirroring the bright evening. Her painting, a vibrant stream of colors, seemed to dance with life, capturing the essence of her artistic soul. The trophy, a symbol of recognition for her outstanding work, felt weighty in her hands, grounding her in the reality of her achievements. As she approached the familiar intersection leading to her home, the distant hum of traffic grew louder. A shadow fell across her path as the city sounds melded into a distant symphony. Unbeknownst to her, a driver careened around the corner, driving recklessly through the streets. The screech of tyres and scent of burning rubber reached her ears just as she instinctively glanced over her shoulder. Time seemed to slow as she saw the headlights, glaring like haunting eyes, bearing down on her. Panic seized her heart, and she took a desperate step back, her eyes widening with fear. In that fateful moment, the drunk driver lost control of his vehicle, the driver wildly stepped onto the sidewalk. The world blurred as the metallic impact echoed through the night, and the artist felt a powerful force knock her off her feet. The air rushed out of her lungs as she collided with the hard footpath. The scene fell silent as everything gasped in horror. Blood covered the ground beneath her, and her beautiful painting was now broken and dull, overshadowed by the tragedy. The gold trophy, once a symbol of success, now seemed bitterly ironic as it glinted under the streetlights' cold glow. The city's heartbeat continued, oblivious to the shattered dreams and the life-altering collision that had just occurred on its busy streets. The sound of sirens wailed in the distance, breaking through the silence as the world grappled with the sudden turn of fate. After 4 Years.The college courtyard buzzed with activity as students moved between classes, chatting and laughing. In a secluded corner, a group of boisterous boys had surrounded a newcomer, Basit, who stood nervously with a backpack slung over his shoulder. Laughter and jeers echoed, marking the initiation of an unwelcome introduction to college life. Just as the tension reached its peak, the air suddenly changed. Hurairah, a senior known for his no-nonsense attitude, stepped into the scene with an aura of quiet confidence. His tall, imposing figure cast a shadow over the bullies, and his piercing gaze sent shivers down their spines. Hurairah:-(with a calm yet assertive tone, interrupted the harassment) "Enough," ! He said, his voice cutting through the noise. The bullies turned to face him, recognizing the authoritative figure that had disrupted their cruel amusement. Hurairah:- You guys know me, and you know what I can do.Right? Hurairah continued, his eyes narrowing. The bullies, who had previously found joy in tormenting the newcomer, suddenly felt the weight of their actions. Panic set in, and they dispersed like leaves in the wind, leaving Basit standing there, visibly relieved. Basit, grateful for the unexpected rescue, thanked Hurairah. Basit:-"I'm Basit, by the way," (he said, his voice still shaky) Hurairah nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Hurairah:- Welcome to the college, Basit. You won't face any more trouble with these guys around. Stick with me. As Basit processed the relief, a stern voice interrupted the moment. A teacher approached, eyeing the scene with disapproval. Teacher:-"Hurairah, not again. You know better than to resort to violence. Get to your classes," (the teacher scolded) Hurairah shot a playful grin at Basit, then turned to the teacher. Hurairah:-Just saving a newcomer from unnecessary trouble, Sir. I'll head to class right away," The teacher shook his head, sighing, as Hurairah walked away, leaving Basit with a newfound sense of security and a mysterious wink that promised something not protection. Hurairah, a name that echoed through the hallowed halls of the Moral College of Law, was more than just a student. He was a force, a formidable combination of skill and intellect that set him apart from his peers. With sharp, discerning eyes that missed nothing, he had earned the reputation of being the most skillful and intelligent guy in his class. However, there was another side to Hurairah that lurked beneath the surface, a surface that added complexity to his character. He had an uncontrolled passion for justice, but his pursuit of it often led him into confrontations. Whether the fight was personal or not, Hurairah couldn't resist jumping into the fight, fueled by a desire to punish those he deemed deserving. Despite his fearless exterior, there was one person who could bring Hurairah to heel—his father, Tameem. Tameem was a pillar of wisdom and discipline, a figure whom even the formidable Hurairah approached with a sense of trepidation. Tameem continually offered advice, urging his son to channel his energies in more constructive ways. Yet, Hurairah's rebellious streak and determination to forge his own path often led him to ignore his father's counsel, invoking Tameem's stern disapproval. In stark contrast to the imposing presence of Tameem, Hurairah's mother, Mariam, provided a gentle and soothing presence in his life. Her sweet soul and kind nature acted as a counterbalance to the intensity that surrounded her son. Despite his penchant for trouble, Mariam's love and understanding remained unwavering. But let's see why He is feared by everyone and why He loves to fight 1 Year ago, As Hurairah navigated the complex web of his personal life, he pursued a dream that stood in stark contrast to his tumultuous reputation—a dream of becoming a judge. The halls of the Moral College of Law became the battleground for his academic ambitions, where he honed his intellect and skills. Within this intricate tapestry of relationships and aspirations, Hurairah found solace in a few steadfast friendships. Shubham and Mohsin were among the select few who stood by him, offering camaraderie and support even in the face of his tumultuous nature. Hurairah, the enigmatic troublemaker with dreams of justice, carved his own path through the Moral College of Law, leaving an indelible mark on the lives of those who crossed his formidable yet complex journey. The corridors of the Moral College of Law buzzed with the frenetic energy of students rushing to their classes. Hurairah, the embodiment of urgency, sprinted up the stairs two at a time, a blur of determination. He clutched his books tightly, his gaze fixed on the distant classroom door, which was threatening to close. As Hurairah rounded a corner, the sea of students parted for a fleeting moment, revealing a girl standing at the top of the staircase. Time seemed to halt as their eyes met. In that instant, the cacophony of hurried footsteps and echoing chatter faded into a distant hum. Hurairah froze, his heart momentarily captive to an unexpected encounter. Shubham, Hurairah's ever-alert companion, yanked him by the arm. "Come on, man! We're already late, and Mohsin's probably dozing off again," he urged, breaking the spell that held Hurairah captive. Reality snapped back into focus, and Hurairah allowed himself to be propelled forward. The brief encounter lingered in his mind, a momentary disruption to the routine chaos of college life. The trio, composed of Hurairah, Mohsin, and Shubham, barged into the classroom, breathless and conspicuously late. The teacher, a stern figure with a no-nonsense demeanor, fixed them with a disapproving stare. "Hurairah, Mohsin, Shubham," the teacher admonished, "this is becoming a regular occurrence. Punctuality is a virtue you seem to have forgotten." Hurairah exchanged a nonchalant glance with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of their shared disregard for timeliness. The teacher's scolding continued, each word met with an air of indifference from the trio. As the lecture resumed, Hurairah, Mohsin, and Shubham settled into their seats with an air of casual rebellion. The teacher's words seemed to wash over them, leaving an impermeable shield of indifference in their wake. The classroom returned to its usual rhythm, but the encounter on the stairs lingered in Hurairah's thoughts. He stole a glance at the girl who had momentarily disrupted his sprint, and a subtle smile played on his lips. The routine of defiance continued, and the trio remained impervious to the rules that sought to restrain their free-spirited approach to college life. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the park within the college grounds, where the trio of Hurairah, Mohsin, and Shubham found a quiet spot beneath a sprawling tree. The rustling leaves overhead provided a gentle backdrop to their leisurely chatter. Hurairah, usually the embodiment of mischief, sat there with a faraway look in his eyes. Mohsin, ever the curious one, nudged him. "Hey, what's with the dreamy expression? You're usually the last person lost in thought." Shubham, ever perceptive, grinned. "I bet he's fallen in love," he teased, raising an eyebrow. Hurairah, snapped out of his reverie, shot Shubham a sidelong glance. "Love? Please. I don't have time for that nonsense." Mohsin chuckled, "Come on, Hurairah, spill it. What's got you daydreaming?" Hurairah hesitated for a moment, then a playful smirk crept across his face. "Okay, fine. So this morning, while I was racing to class, I saw this girl on the stairs. We had this weird eye contact moment, and now I can't get her out of my head." Shubham burst into laughter. "Well, well, well. Our fearless troublemaker has a soft spot." Hurairah rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I was just caught off guard. You know how it is." As they continued bantering, the trio strolled through the park. The sun-dappled paths led them past an ice cream truck, its vibrant colors beckoning. Hurairah, still lost in his thoughts, barely noticed the tempting display. However, as they approached the truck, his gaze froze on a familiar figure. The same girl from the morning stood there, considering the variety of ice creams. Hurairah's heart skipped a beat, and an involuntary blush crept up his cheeks. Shubham and Mohsin, following his gaze, exchanged amused glances. Shubham nudged Hurairah, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Looks like destiny is serving you another scoop. Go on, make your move." Hurairah, usually unfazed, felt a rare moment of vulnerability. "She's, uh, kind of famous, isn't she?" he stammered. Mohsin nodded, grinning. "Yeah, she's the talk of the college. Rumor has it she can have more than two boyfriends at the same time. But hey, now you're blushing like a schoolboy." Hurairah, refusing to let his friends get the better of him, straightened up. "So what? People can change. Let's get some ice cream." As they approached the truck, the trio engaged in lighthearted banter, leaving behind the playful revelation. The afternoon unfolded with laughter, camaraderie, and the sweet taste of ice cream under the watchful gaze of the college's famous girl, whose presence had unknowingly left an indelible mark on the usually unshakeable Hurairah. The sun began its descent, casting a warm golden hue over the college terrace. The trio, Hurairah, Mohsin, and Shubham, found a secluded spot with a breathtaking view. They had successfully orchestrated another class bunk, choosing the open terrace as their sanctuary. Hurairah, usually the mischief-maker, sat there with a distant look in his eyes. The topic of their banter had shifted, and the mysterious girl from the morning continued to occupy his thoughts. His friends, sensing his distraction, exchanged knowing glances. Mohsin, the instigator, leaned in with a sly grin. "You know her name, right?" Hurairah looked up, intrigued. "No, I don't. Who is she?" "Rubab," Mohsin revealed with a dramatic flourish. "That's her name. Rubab." The name lingered in the air, and Hurairah's mind raced with possibilities. Shubham, ever the realist, chimed in. "Well, Rubab or not, it doesn't change the fact that she's out of our league. Just look at the way she dresses. I doubt she'd even give us the time of day." Mohsin, however, was not one to be swayed by such pessimism. "Hey, don't be so quick to judge. She's not seeing anyone, and this is your chance, Hurairah. If you can make her fall for you, you're set." Shubham scoffed. "And how do you plan to do that? She probably hangs out with people who have their own private jets." Hurairah, his competitive spirit ignited, stood up with a determined glint in his eye. "Watch me. I'll show you that it's not about private jets or expensive clothes. It's about the person you are." Shubham, ever the realist, smashed his hand against his forehead. "You're really going to waste your time and money on this, aren't you?" Hurairah nodded with a grin. "Yep. I'll start collecting money. And when I win her over, you'll be eating your words." The trio burst into laughter, the banter continuing as the sun dipped below the horizon. The challenge had been set, and Hurairah, unfazed by the obstacles ahead, was determined to pursue the elusive Rubab with a fervor that only he could muster. The terrace, witness to countless stories and aspirations, now held the promise of a new and unexpected chapter in the adventurous life of Hurairah and his indomitable friends. The auditorium was alive with the hum of anticipation as Rubab, poised and confident, stepped up to the lectern. Dressed in professional attire, she exuded an air of authority and charisma that captured the attention of everyone present. The topic of her speech was "Law and Order in the Modern Society," and her eloquence painted a vivid picture of her passion for justice. Hurairah, positioned discreetly in the audience, couldn't tear his gaze away. Love had cast its enchanting spell upon him, and every word that fell from Rubab's lips resonated like a melody. He marveled at her intellect, her commitment to justice, and the way she effortlessly commanded the room. As the speech unfolded, Hurairah found himself not just admiring her from a distance but following her every move. Wherever Rubab went, he was not far behind, an invisible shadow consumed by the radiance of her presence. He watched her interactions, listened intently to her discussions, and found solace in the mere proximity of the one who had become the muse of his heart.