Dayyan stirred from his sleep with the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains. The familiar aroma of spices and brewing tea drifted into his room, a gentle reminder that his day had begun. He rubbed his eyes, stretched, and reluctantly swung his legs out of bed, the cool floor awakening his senses. Downstairs, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of low voices signaled that Fariya was already at work in the kitchen.
Fariya had been a steadfast presence in Dayyan’s life for as long as he could remember. She was the housekeeper who had, over time, become an indispensable part of his daily routine. As he descended the stairs, he greeted her with his usual polite nod, "Salaam, Fariya."
She looked up from the stove, her face breaking into a warm, professional smile. "Wa Salaam, D
