Lost in her thoughts, I longed to return to my sleep. Heading toward the room, I quickened my pace, hoping to catch a glimpse of her in the corridor. Just a few steps ahead, I heard someone call my name. My heart sank. "No, not now. This can’t be happening," I muttered under my breath. Hesitating, I turned around—only to see Talha standing there, grinning from ear to ear.
"Why did you bunk class?" he asked, his smile as bright as ever.
"Yar, I was tired. I needed a nap," I replied, trying to mask my irritation.
"Let’s go to the Pipeline track from Nathiagali to Ayubia," he suggested enthusiastically.
I shook my head. "What I need right now is sleep," I said firmly, brushing him off. "Go back and attend your class."
Disappointed, he muttered something about me being rude and walked away, tossing a few half-hearted curses in my direction. But my refusal wasn’t just about sleep. It was the hope of seeing her again that held me back.
Reaching the elevator, I groaned upon finding it out of order. The stairs it was, then. Each step wore me down, but my determination to catch that smile kept me moving. When I finally reached my floor, my heart sank. The hallway was empty, her door ajar with a housekeeping cart parked outside—a silent confirmation that she wasn’t there.
Disheartened, I opened my own door and tried slamming it shut, but the slow, resistant doors of PC Bhurban refused to cooperate. Frustrated, I slumped against the doorframe. "What is happening to me? Sanvi... what have you done to me? Where has my carefree self gone?"
The weight of my thoughts was unbearable. In a moment of surrender, I grabbed my phone and called Talha. "Let’s go to the Pipeline track," I said abruptly.
Minutes later, we were in a taxi heading to Nathiagali.
The taxi sped through the winding roads of Murree, the lush green hills outside blurring as my mind replayed the morning’s events. Sanvi—her name echoed in my head like an unfinished symphony. Why had she taken over my thoughts like this? Her laughter, her subtle smile, even the way she absentmindedly twirled her hair—it all haunted me. And yet, I hadn’t seen her all day.
Talha, sitting beside me, seemed oddly quiet for someone who had been so eager to drag me out to the Pipeline track. He probably thought I was sulking over my missed nap, but little did he know, sleep was the last thing on my mind.
“You know,” Talha broke the silence, “you’ve been acting weird lately. You used to be the guy who never said no to adventures, the guy who made everyone laugh. Now you’re just…” He paused, searching for the right word, “lost.”
I didn’t respond. What could I say? That I was losing myself to someone who probably didn’t even know the chaos she’d stirred within me?
The taxi dropped us off at the start of the trail. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth, but it did little to calm the storm in my chest. Talha, oblivious to my inner turmoil, was already taking pictures, posing dramatically against the backdrop of towering trees and distant peaks.
As we began walking the track, I couldn’t help but think of Sanvi. Would she have liked this place? Maybe she had been here before. The thought of her walking these same trails made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
Talha, noticing my distracted state, nudged me. “Come on, man. At least pretend to enjoy this. You’re in the middle of paradise, and you’re acting like you’re at a funeral.”
I forced a laugh, trying to shake off the gloom. “You’re right. Let’s just enjoy the hike.”
We walked for what felt like hours, the trail winding through dense forests and offering occasional glimpses of the valley below. Talha was chattering away, but I barely registered his words. My mind was still with her—Sanvi.
Then, as we rounded a bend, I froze. A small group of hikers was coming from the opposite direction, and among them was a face I couldn’t mistake. Sanvi.
She was laughing at something, her eyes sparkling in the dappled sunlight. My heart leapt to my throat, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. She hadn’t seen me yet, but the universe had decided to give me this one chance, this fleeting moment.