Al-Amin fastened his seatbelt as the driver started the car. A low hum filled the vehicle, grounding him in the moment. He glanced at the crumpled flight ticket in his hand—destination: Malaysia.
This wasn’t a choice he had envisioned for himself. Life in his small town had always been predictable. He worked as a tailor, stitching dreams into fabric in a modest shop just a 15-minute bicycle ride from his village. Cycling to work each morning was part of his quiet routine, a rhythm he had come to embrace.
Memories of his childhood surfaced unbidden as the car rolled forward. He thought of Sanjana, the girl who used to visit his house daily to help his mother. Her family, struggling to make ends meet, had pushed her into work at a tender age. Despite her burdens, she carried herself with grace.
By the time Al-Amin turned 15, Sanjana no longer came around. He never asked why. There was an unspoken weight to her absence, one he chose to bury in the fabric of his everyday life. Yet, he never forgot her—the way her shy but radiant smile lit up the room when their eyes met, leaving a quiet warmth in its wake.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him back to the present. He pulled it out, his thumb hovering over the screen. Just a few days ago, the thought of leaving his hometown had seemed impossible. But then Sanjana’s letter arrived, shaking the foundations of his carefully constructed life.
The letter had been simple, yet it carried a depth that cut through the years and silences between them:
"Dear old friend,
I have been away from you for almost seven years.
Since I left our town, I’ve thought many times about writing this letter. I’m doing fine here in Malaysia.
But a day without seeing you makes my heart feel incomplete.
I took this risk to open my heart to you and am waiting for your reply.
It took me seven years to find the courage to write this letter to you. And I can wait another seven years for your answer.
Whatever your decision is, it’s all up to you. As I open my heart to you, I will accept your decision with an open heart.
Thank you for your time."
The letter had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Seven years. Seven years of silence, of unanswered questions, and of a bond neither of them had been brave enough to acknowledge before now.
And now, here he was, on the way to the airport, heading toward a future he hadn’t dared to imagine. Al-Amin folded the letter carefully and slipped it into his jacket pocket. The words on that paper might have taken years to reach him, but they had opened a door he never knew he had locked.
As the car sped toward the unknown, Al-Amin couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead. All he knew was that this decision—this leap—felt like the right one.