The sky outside was still tinted with soft grey when Washma opened her eyes, lying on the floor bedding in Uncle Rehmat and Aunty's bedroom. The early morning quietness of the house wrapped around her gently, and for a few seconds, she forgot she was far away from home.
Then she remembered: today was her first day at university.
She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. Aunty and Uncle were still asleep on their bed, breathing softly. She got up quietly, folded her blanket neatly, and tiptoed out of the room.
In the bathroom, she washed her face and stood in front of the mirror. A nervous expression looked back at her. She tied her thick, dark hair into a long braid, brushed out her scarf, and got dressed in the outfit she had prepared the night before — a simple black short kurta with jeans and black scarf . Her file of documents was already packed in her bag. Today, there was no space for mistakes.
In the kitchen, the light was already on. Ali Bhai, cheerful as always, had returned from dropping his daughters off to school. A kettle was boiling, and he was buttering toast with the calm ease of someone who did this every morning.
"Good morning, Washma! Big day today, huh? Nervous?"
Washma offered a shy smile. "Yes… a bit."
"Don't worry, I've got your back. Finish breakfast quickly. We're leaving in 30 minutes. I'll go with you and stay until your classes are done. We'll learn the route together today so next time you can go confidently."
Washma felt a warmth in her chest. Even in a strange country, there were people who made her feel seen and safe.
---
The Underground Journey
They left the house just after 8:30. A soft morning chill brushed against her cheeks as they walked to Willesden Green station. The streets were alive with the usual London buzz — people with coffee cups, buses pulling into stops, schoolchildren in uniforms, and delivery vans zooming past.
At the station, the sound of the underground trains, the flashing lights, the crowds — it all hit her senses at once. She stayed close to Ali Bhai, trying to absorb everything he explained:
"See that board? That's how you check the train times. And this is your Oyster card — always tap it when entering and exiting. Simple."
They got on the Jubilee Line, heading toward Central London. Washma sat by the window, though there wasn't much to see in the underground tunnels. Her fingers clutched her bag tightly, but her eyes were wide with wonder.
"This is it," she thought. "My new routine. My new life."
---
Arrival at the University
They got off at Euston Station and walked the rest of the way. The sun was now shining through the city buildings, making the glass fronts of stores sparkle. London was busy, stylish, and fast. She felt like a tiny dot in this huge map.
When they reached the university entrance, a beautiful glass and brick building, Washma paused. Students were walking in confidently — some in groups, some with headphones, all looking like they belonged.
Ali Bhai gave her a reassuring smile.
"You'll fit in too. Trust yourself. I'll wait outside. You go get your welcome kit."
With a deep breath, Washma walked in.
Inside, a kind lady at the reception handed her a welcome folder, guided her to the induction room, and asked her to sign a few documents. She sat quietly among a group of new students, observing. Girls with hijabs, boys with backpacks, international students speaking different accents — the room buzzed with excitement. Yet, all she felt was a slow-building sense of strength.
This was hard.
But it was also the beginning of something big.
---
After the Orientation
When she came back out after the orientation, Ali Bhai was still there, sipping tea from a paper cup near the university café.
"How was it?" he asked.
"Scary… but I survived." she said with a tired smile.
He laughed. "That's the spirit. I told you you'd be fine. Ready to head back or want to explore a bit?"
She nodded, ready to go home and absorb everything. As they got back on the train, Washma looked at the busy London crowd around her and thought:
"In this big world, I am just beginning… but I am not alone."
---
Evening – After the First Day
The sky outside was painted in muted shades of grey and rose as Washma returned home with Ali Bhai. The day had been long, and though her feet ached, her heart carried a strange mix of relief and heaviness.
Ali Bhai noticed her silence as they stepped inside.
"Tired?" he asked gently, helping her with her bag.
She nodded with a quiet smile.
"It went well… but everything felt so big, so fast. Everyone was confident. I just… I don't know how I fit in yet."
"That's normal," he said. "Give it time. Fitting in comes after showing up — and you already did that today."
Washma appreciated his words. They were thoughtful — the kind that stayed with you.
In the kitchen, Amna Bhabhi was already preparing dinner with the two older girls helping her. The youngest one ran to Washma and wrapped her arms around her leg.
"Washma phuphoo, you're back!"
Washma picked her up and hugged her tightly. That warmth, even from a child, was enough to take the weight off her shoulders.
Dinner was simple and filling — daal, boiled rice, and warm rotis. She ate quietly with the family, avoiding eye contact with Adeel, who was sitting silently at the table, scrolling through his phone with one hand and eating with the other.
---
Late Evening – Living Room
The lights in the living room cast a soft glow across the furniture, and the TV flickered with low volume, playing a British drama Washma barely understood. She wasn't really watching; her mind was still wrapped around the events of her first day at university — the overwhelming campus, the crowd, the voices, the heavy silence in her heart.
Her body rested against the armrest of the sofa, a light blanket across her legs, her long hair loosely tied back. A half-empty cup of tea sat on the table. She didn't realise time had slipped past so quietly.
The house had slowly gone still. The kids had gone to bed with their mother. Uncle Rehmat had retired early, and even the quiet clatter from the kitchen had disappeared.
Washma assumed Adeel had gone out with his friends — she had seen him leave earlier with a jacket thrown over his shoulder and a careless smirk on his face.
She was about to switch off the TV when she heard the faint click of the front door.
The air suddenly felt different.
Adeel entered silently, his shoes in his hand, his hoodie pushed back. The music from his headphones was still playing faintly as he walked past the hallway and directly into the living room — unaware or perhaps fully aware that she was still there.
Washma stiffened.
Her hands instinctively reached for the scarf draped loosely across her shoulders, and she adjusted it to cover herself more properly. Her heartbeat picked up.
He noticed her on the sofa and smirked — not in greeting, but in recognition.
"Didn't expect you to still be up," he said, voice low, eyes focused.
"I was just… watching something," Washma replied quickly, sitting upright and pulling the blanket tighter over her legs.
He walked over to the counter where the kettle was and poured himself some water, moving slowly — deliberately. Washma kept her eyes fixed on the TV screen even though she couldn't register a word being said.
"You should sleep," he added, not looking at her, but his tone held something else — not concern, not casual suggestion… something that lingered too long in the room.
She nodded.
"Yes, I was just going," she murmured, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV.
As she stood, he stepped aside, leaning against the dining chair, watching her walk past him with unreadable eyes. Her body felt tense under the weight of his gaze, but she kept her head down and walked quickly toward Uncle Rehmat and Aunty's room, where her bedding waited on the floor — her only sanctuary in this unfamiliar house.
As she reached for the door, she turned slightly to check — he was still standing there, eyes following.
She closed the door behind her quietly, her hands slightly trembling as she exhaled deeply.
---
Washma's Thoughts
The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the nightlight plugged in near the dresser. Uncle Rehmat and Aunty were fast asleep on their bed, the sound of their soft breathing steady and comforting in the otherwise heavy silence.
Washma lay quietly on her floor bedding, curled on one side, a light shawl over her. Her eyes stared into the dark space ahead, unblinking.
She could still feel it — the cold silence that had wrapped around her in the living room. Adeel's gaze hadn't been just a glance; it had lingered too long, heavy, pressing, uninvited.
Her hands pulled the shawl tighter around her body.
She tried to reason with herself — maybe he didn't mean it that way. Maybe she was just being paranoid, overthinking. But something inside her — something ancient, womanly, instinctive — said otherwise.
It wasn't the first time he had looked at her like that.
And it wouldn't be the last.
She felt exposed in this house. She wasn't a child, and she understood when someone looked without respect. There was a kind of safety that surrounded her during the day — with Ali Bhai's presence, with the girls, with Amna Bhabhi's kindness. But when the night came, and the house quieted… she felt alone. Vulnerable.
She missed Ammi so much her chest ached.
She missed the peaceful warmth of home, the smell of cardamom tea in the morning, the sound of her siblings fighting over toast. She missed the way her Ammi would wake her up with a smile, and how her bed always felt like the safest place on earth.
Here… even this bedding on the floor didn't feel like it truly belonged to her. She was a guest, floating between spaces, constantly aware of herself.
Washma wiped the silent tear that escaped her eye. She closed her eyes — not to sleep, but to rest. Tomorrow would be another long day. But tonight, she would hold onto the memory of safety and her mother's voice, just to make it through.