Chapter 4 - Across Silent Borders
1466 Words
Across Silent Borders
Some people enter life loudly.
With dramatic moments.
With instant attachment.
With feelings so obvious they leave no room for confusion.
But some people arrive quietly…
so quietly that the heart itself takes time to understand what is happening.
Sakina Mustafa entered Burhan’s life like that.
Softly.
Slowly.
Almost invisibly.
After sending that simple “Hi,” Burhan had expected nothing serious. Maybe a polite conversation. Maybe a few formal exchanges before both disappeared politely into their own lives again.
That was usually how these introductions ended.
But this one didn’t.
Her reply came almost twenty minutes later.
“Assalamualaikum.”
Simple. Respectful. Calm.
No unnecessary excitement.
No artificial sweetness.
Burhan smiled slightly before replying.
“Walaikumassalam.”
And strangely…
that was enough to begin something.
At first, their conversations remained formal. Almost careful.
Where are you from?
What work do you do?
How many siblings?
How is Karachi?
How is Abu Dhabi?
Normal questions. Safe questions.
Questions asked by two strangers trying not to make the situation awkward.
Most conversations happened late at night after dinner when Lasalas Club slowly became quieter. Burhan usually sat near the window beside the living room while replying to her messages. Outside, Abu Dhabi glittered beneath yellow streetlights while traffic moved silently below like rivers of light.
Sometimes he typed quickly.
Sometimes he stared at the screen for minutes before replying.
Not because he lacked words.
But because he was careful with them.
Cross-border conversations carried invisible weight.
Even simple sentences felt delicate somehow.
One wrong emotional step and reality immediately appeared:
India.
Pakistan.
Borders.
Families.
Politics.
Visas.
Sometimes Burhan himself wondered why he was even continuing the conversation.
What was the point?
He had seen enough life to understand reality practically.
People liked romantic stories from distance.
But real Indo-Pak marriages came with complications nobody discussed properly.
Society questions everything.
Families fear everything.
And borders complicate even ordinary happiness.
Some nights Burhan intentionally replied late.
Some nights he ignored messages for hours.
Sometimes he convinced himself emotionally distancing now would be smarter later.
Because truthfully…
he still did not feel certain about Sakina.
She seemed respectful.
Simple.
Soft-spoken.
But something inside him remained unconvinced.
Not negatively.
Just uncertain.
Maybe because real feelings had not entered yet.
Maybe because conversations through screens rarely reveal souls completely.
Or maybe because Burhan’s heart had spent years protecting itself quietly without him realizing it.
One night, while everyone inside Lasalas Club sat watching cricket loudly in the hall, Burhan remained unusually silent near the balcony. His phone glowed softly in his hand while Sakina’s messages appeared one after another.
“How was work today?”
“Did you eat dinner?”
“You sound tired.”
Such ordinary questions.
Yet strangely comforting.
Burhan stared at the messages longer than usual.
Nobody had asked him those things sincerely in a long time.
In bachelor life, exhaustion becomes normal.
Loneliness becomes routine.
And slowly, people stop asking how you truly are.
But Sakina asked naturally.
Not dramatically.
Not emotionally.
Simply… sincerely.
Still, Burhan remained cautious.
Very cautious.
One evening during tea break at office, Rizwan noticed him smiling slightly at his phone.
“Oho,” Rizwan immediately reacted dramatically.
“Someone important?”
Burhan locked the screen instantly.
“Nothing.”
Rajesh looked up calmly from invoices.
“Definitely something.”
Burhan laughed lightly trying to avoid the conversation.
But Rizwan never spared anyone.
“Name?”
“No one.”
“Country?”
Burhan looked up sharply.
Rizwan froze dramatically.
“Wait…”
His eyes widened.
“Pakistan?”
Rajesh immediately stopped typing.
Both stared at Burhan together.
Burhan finally smiled helplessly.
“Just talking.”
Rizwan leaned back emotionally.
“Ya Allah… our brother entered international level.”
All three burst into laughter.
But beneath the jokes, Burhan quietly noticed something important.
Neither Rajesh nor Rizwan reacted negatively.
No politics.
No judgment.
No unnecessary nationalism.
Only curiosity and concern for their friend.
That comforted him more than he admitted openly.
Meanwhile, conversations with Sakina slowly became part of his routine.
Morning greetings.
Random jokes.
Voice notes occasionally.
Late-night conversations stretching longer than intended.
And little by little, Burhan started noticing things about her.
She never spoke disrespectfully.
Never demanded attention unnecessarily.
Never tried forcing emotional closeness.
There was softness in her personality.
The kind that calmed rooms quietly.
Sometimes she spoke about Karachi.
The food streets.
The sea breeze.
Family gatherings.
Wedding functions stretching till midnight.
Burhan listened carefully during those conversations.
Karachi slowly stopped feeling like a foreign city.
Through Sakina’s words, it began feeling human. Warm. Familiar. Alive.
And perhaps for the first time, Burhan understood something deeply:
Ordinary people across borders were almost identical.
Same family worries.
Same laughter.
Same tea conversations.
Same emotional struggles.
Only the flags were different.
One rainy evening in Abu Dhabi, Burhan sat alone in his parked car outside Corniche after work. Waterdrops rested across the windshield while soft old music played quietly inside.
His phone vibrated.
Sakina.
He answered after a few seconds.
“Assalamualaikum,” her voice came softly through the speaker.
Burhan adjusted himself slightly.
“Walaikumassalam.”
For a few moments neither spoke properly.
Just small smiles hidden between silence.
And strangely…
that silence did not feel awkward.
It felt peaceful.
“Rain?” she asked after hearing drops against the car.
“Hmm.”
“We had rain yesterday too.”
Again silence.
Then suddenly she laughed softly.
“You know something?”
“What?”
“You sound completely different on call.”
Burhan smiled unconsciously.
“How?”
“Less serious.”
That made him laugh properly.
Maybe she was right.
Around most people, Burhan carried responsibility first and personality later.
But around her…
he somehow relaxed naturally.
Yet even then, certainty still refused to enter his heart fully.
Because every time emotions tried moving forward…
reality pulled them back.
One night, after speaking nearly two hours, Burhan ended the call and sat quietly in darkness long afterward.
Inside Lasalas Club, everyone already slept. The apartment carried soft snores, humming air conditioning, and distant city silence beyond windows.
Burhan stared at the ceiling thoughtfully.
What exactly was he doing?
Talking was easy.
Attachment was dangerous.
Especially here.
Because if feelings entered deeply…
then consequences entered too.
Could his family accept a Pakistani girl?
Would society endlessly interfere?
Would visas even allow such marriage peacefully?
What if things failed later because of distance and politics beyond their control?
Questions multiplied every night.
And slowly, fear began standing beside affection.
The next few days, Burhan intentionally became distant again.
Short replies.
Late responses.
Less conversation.
Not because he disliked Sakina.
But because he feared emotional complications before certainty existed.
Sakina noticed immediately.
Women often notice emotional distance before men even understand they are creating it.
One night she finally asked directly:
“Did I say something wrong?”
Burhan looked at the screen silently for several seconds.
Then typed honestly:
“No.”
Another message appeared.
“Then why do you sound far away suddenly?”
That question hit him unexpectedly hard.
Because truthfully…
he was far away.
Not geographically.
Emotionally.
Burhan placed the phone beside him and rubbed his face slowly.
He hated hurting sincere people.
Especially people who trusted him gently.
After several minutes, he finally replied:
“Sometimes I think this is difficult.”
Her typing appeared immediately.
“Because I’m from Pakistan?”
Burhan closed his eyes briefly.
Even reading the sentence felt heavy.
Not because it offended him.
But because it revealed how deeply borders had entered ordinary human emotions.
He replied carefully.
“Not you. Situation.”
This time her reply came slowly.
“I understand.”
And somehow…
those two words carried sadness quietly hidden beneath maturity.
For the first time, Burhan realized something important.
Sakina was also afraid.
She too understood the complications.
She too knew society judged such things differently.
She too probably wondered whether attachment across borders was wise.
And yet…
despite all that…
she still continued talking to him every day.
That realization softened something inside Burhan unexpectedly.
Because sincerity becomes visible most clearly when fear exists… yet people stay anyway.
That night, neither spoke much afterward.
But before sleeping, Sakina sent one final message:
“Some people meet easily.”
Then another:
“Maybe some people are meant to meet with difficulty.”
Burhan read the message repeatedly in silence.
Outside, Abu Dhabi slept peacefully beneath tower lights and empty roads.
Inside the quiet apartment of Lasalas Club, Burhan stared at his phone feeling something unfamiliar slowly entering his guarded heart.
Not certainty.
Not love yet.
But something softer.
The beginning of emotional attachment.
And somewhere deep within him, a quiet realization finally appeared:
This girl from Karachi was no longer just a conversation.
- Writer
