Prezwan FF: Fanaa

Chapter 1 — Chand Sifarish, Des Rangila

Preet is a simple but blind girl who lived with her father, Zulfikar, and mother, Malini, in Kashmir. However, despite her blindness, Preet was an excellent student in school and college and topped her board and university.

Preet was also a good dancer who won inter-school and inter-college competitions.

One day, Preet's college principal heard about the inter-state competition for Republic Day, where all colleges had to perform in Delhi.

Zulfikar has always been protective towards Preet, fearing her blindness. He gets apprehensive about sending Preet to Delhi.

One day, his wife Malini sits beside him in the garden, where they place their table and chair to have tea and breakfast every day.

Malini: I know you love Preet, and you wish from the bottom of your heart that she should participate in the competition, as it's a great opportunity. It's because you're afraid that you haven't sent her anywhere out of Kashmir alone. I always respected your decision. Please send her this time, as all her friends will be there to take care of her.

Zulfikar: I know she has good friends, but how much can they take care of her? Our daughter is good-looking and innocent. I am afraid that if a guy happens to manipulate her feelings and misuse her, she would be nowhere.

Malini: Why do you think negatively? There is also a possibility that she might find true love in her life who would accept her with her blindness and get her treated. How long can we be with her? Who will take care of her after we leave the world?

Zulfikar: What you say is also right. But she has an appointment with an eye doctor for a routine checkup. I don't want her to miss that. Who knows, she might regain her vision. But she won't go anywhere until she gets her vision back.

Malini: Then I think we should leave the decision to Preet. Whatever she says will be final.

Preet came.

Zulfikar: We were talking about you. Do you want to go to Delhi to perform on stage?

Preet: I don't know, as you've always decided everything till now. Even today, I will do as you say.

Preet went to her room.

Zulfikar: Preet knows that whatever I decide is for her good.

Malini: I don't deny that, but this time it's a different story. She might have said it outwardly, but this time I could see the pain in her eyes.

The next moment, Roohi went to Preet and said, "Dad gave you permission to perform in Delhi."

They packed the bags. Preet's friends came to her house to pick her up. Zulfikar and Malini accompanied her to see her off at the railway station.

Just before the train was about to leave, Malini said to Preet, "If you get a true love in your life, tell him tere dil main meri saason ko panaah mil jaaye. Tere ishq main meri jaan fanah ho jaaye."

The train leaves. The winter morning in New Delhi was filled with excitement. They got off at the railway station and reached the bus stop. The girls met a handsome young man, Rizwaan, who was a tourist guide. Seeing Preet, he was mesmerized by her beauty, which her friends didn't miss, and they felt uncomfortable with him.

The girls discuss boarding the bus he sits on.

Rizwaan saw that and said, "If you leave this bus, there won't be any other bus for 5 hours, and you guys have to reach on time."

One of Preet's friends, Fathima, said, "Thanks for the advice, but we are not interested in traveling with you."

Preet: Fathima, understand the urgency. We don't have much time. We have just 2 hours.

Fathima (defeated): Okay.

All get into the bus.

On the way, Preet knits the sweater. Rizwan said a shayari:

Kaash main oon ka gola hota,

aur unki ungliyon mein lipta hota,

woh dheere-dheere mujhe suljhati,

aur main har baar unmein ulajhta hota.

Unke haathon ki garmahat mein,

meri har shaam guzar jaati,

aur jab woh mujhe samet kar rakhti,

meri duniya wahi tham jaati.

Fathima said, "Look at your level and look at my friend's level. She will knit the sweater for a decent prince. Not for a devil like you."

Rizwan: Well, if your friend isn't saying anything, why are you interfering?

Fathima: You are a tourist guide. Stay within your limits.

Rizwan becomes speechless.

The bus reached the venue.

Groups of dancers, musicians, students, and performers had gathered from different parts of India for the Republic Day celebrations. Among them was a group of young dancers from Kashmir, accompanied by their dance teacher.

At the center of the group was Preet Ali Beg.

She walked carefully with her white cane, her fingers occasionally brushing against her friend's arm for guidance. Though she was blind, her personality was anything but hesitant. Her smile was bright, her voice confident, and her love for dancing was stronger than any obstacle.

Her friends, however, were constantly worried about her.

"Preet, slow down!" one of them called.

Preet laughed.

"Why? Am I going to run into the President?"

Her friends burst out laughing.

Their dance teacher shook his head affectionately.

"Enough, Preet. We have a rehearsal in two hours. Don't tire yourself."

"Sir, I have been dancing since morning. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're always perfectly fine until you fall asleep during rehearsal."

"That happened only once!"

"Twice."

"Sir!"

Everyone laughed.

Just then, a man's voice came from behind them.

"Excuse me."

Preet turned toward the voice.

"Yes?"

"I think you dropped something."

She immediately checked her hands.

"What?"

"Your smile."

Her friends exchanged amused looks.

Preet raised an eyebrow.

"Was that supposed to impress me?"

The stranger chuckled.

"No. But if it did, I'll take the credit."

One of Preet's friends whispered,

"Don't encourage him."

Preet smiled.

"Who are you?"

"Rizwan Khan. Tour guide. Delhi specialist. Historian by profession, entertainer by accident."

"Entertainer?"

"Yes. I can show you Delhi and make you laugh at the same time."

Fathima

Preet tilted her head.

"How much do you charge?"

"Usually?"

"Yes."

"For everyone else, money."

"And for me?"

Rizwan paused dramatically.

"For you... one smile a day."

Preet laughed.

Her friend immediately pulled her aside.

"Preet, don't fall for his sweet talk."

"I haven't fallen for anything."

Rizwan heard her.

"Good. Because if you fall, I'll have to catch you."

Preet shook her head.

"You're impossible."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I know."

He grinned.

A Tour of Delhi

Later that afternoon, Rizwan became their unofficial guide.

He described the sights around them in vivid detail for Preet, making sure she could experience Delhi through his words.

"And now," he announced grandly, "we're standing near India Gate."

Preet touched the stone railing beside her.

"What does it look like?"

Rizwan became unusually quiet.

"It's beautiful."

"That's not a description."

"It's tall. Majestic. And when the evening lights come on, the whole place looks like the sky has come down to Earth."

Preet smiled.

"You make everything sound like poetry."

"Maybe because I'm talking to someone who deserves poetry."

Her friends groaned.

"Here we go again."

Rizwan laughed.

Preet turned toward him.

"You flirt with every girl like this?"

"No."

"Really?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because most girls don't ask me questions this quickly."

Preet laughed.

"You have an answer for everything."

"Only when you're around."

She tried to hide her smile.

But Rizwan noticed.

And for the first time, he didn't flirt merely because it was fun.

He genuinely wanted to see her smile.

Chand Sifarish

That evening, the group gathered in the hotel courtyard.

Someone was playing music.

Rizwan sat nearby, watching Preet laugh with her friends.

One of them teased him.

"Why don't you go talk to her?"

"I've been talking to her all day."

"Then entertain her."

Rizwan smiled.

"That's an excellent idea."

He picked up a microphone.

Preet heard the sound and turned toward the stage.

"What's happening?"

Her friend whispered,

"Your guide has decided to become a singer."

Rizwan stepped forward.

"Preet!"

She turned toward him.

"Yes?"

"This song is for you."

Her friends immediately started teasing her.

"Preet!"

"He's singing for you!"

She laughed.

"Rizwan, you don't even know me!"

"That's why I'm singing. Maybe the song will help."

The music began.

Rizwan sang “Chand Sifarish”, turning the performance into a playful serenade.

Hmm Hmm Hmm.. La La La La…
Hey Hey Hey… Aaha…

Subhan Allah Subhan Allah
Subhan Allah Subhan Allah
Subhan Allah Subhan Allah
Subhan Allah Subhan Allah

Valle Valle
Valle Valle..

Chand Sifarish Jo Karta Humari
Deta Woh Tumko Bata Hey Hey…
Sharmon Haya Ke Parde Gira Ke
Karni Hai Humko Khata

Zid Hai Ab Toh Hai Khud Ko Mitana
Hona Hai Tujhme Fanaa Ho Ho..

Chand Sifarish Jo Karta Humari
Deta Woh Tumko Bata Hey Hey…

Sharmon Haya Ke Parde Gira Ke
Karni Hai Humko Khata

He moved around the courtyard, occasionally approaching Preet while continuing the song.

Valle Valle
Valle Valle..

Teri Ada Bhi Hai Jhonke Wali
Chhoo Ke Guzar Jaane De
Teri Lachak Hai Ke Jaise Daali
Dil Mein Utar Jaane De

Aaja Baahon Mein Karke Bahana
Hona Hai Tujhme Fanaa Ho Ho..

Chand Sifarish Jo Karta Humari
Deta Woh Tumko Bata Hey Hey…
Sharmon Haya Ke Parde Gira Ke
Karni Hai Humko Khata

He clapped along with the rhythm and made exaggerated expressions that made everyone laugh.

Preet couldn't see his antics, but she could hear every change in his voice.

Subhan Allah Subhan Allah
Subhan Allah Subhan Allah
Subhan Allah Subhan Allah
Subhan Allah Subhan Allah

Hai Jo Iradein Bata Doon Tumko
Sharma Hi Jaogi Tum
Dhadkane Jo Suna Doon Tumko
Ghabra Hi Jaogi Tum

Humko Aata Nahi Hai Chhupana
Hona Hai Tujhme Fanaa Ho Ho..

Chand Sifarish Jo Karta Humari
Deta Woh Tumko Bata Hey Hey…
Sharmon Haya Ke Parde Gira Ke
Karni Hai Humko Khata

Zid Hai Ab Toh Hai Khud Ko Mitana
Hona Hai Tujhme Fanaa

At one point, Rizwan stopped directly in front of her.

She smiled.

"You came back?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because the audience I'm performing for is sitting right here."

"You really are shameless."

"Only when necessary."

She laughed again.

When the song ended, everyone applauded.

Rizwan walked over to her.

"So?"

Preet smiled.

"You're not a bad singer."

"Not bad?"

"Don't get too excited."

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart.

"You've wounded me."

Preet laughed.

"But..."

"But?"

"I liked it."

Rizwan's playful smile softened.

"Then I'll sing for you again."

Her friends exchanged glances.

They had noticed something Preet hadn't.

Rizwan wasn't simply flirting anymore.

He was falling.

The Night Before Republic Day

The next day was rehearsal.

Preet stood on the stage while her teacher gave instructions.

"Remember the formation. When the music changes, everyone moves forward together."

Preet nodded.

"I know, Sir."

Rizwan watched from the audience.

One of Preet's friends sat beside him.

"Why are you staring?"

"I'm watching the rehearsal."

"You're watching Preet."

Rizwan smiled.

"Same thing."

His friend laughed.

"You like her."

Rizwan immediately denied it.

"I like teasing her."

"That's not what I said."

Rizwan became quiet.

He looked toward Preet.

She laughed with her friends, completely unaware that someone was watching her with growing affection.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Don't know what?"

"Maybe I like her."

"Maybe?"

Rizwan smiled faintly.

"She's different."

"Because she's blind?"

Rizwan shook his head.

"No."

He watched Preet dance.

"Because she sees people better than most people who have eyes."

His friend fell silent.

Rizwan himself seemed surprised by his own words.

Republic Day

The morning of Republic Day arrived.

The atmosphere was electric.

Flags decorated the venue. Music filled the air. Crowds gathered as performers prepared for their turn.

Preet stood backstage wearing her traditional Kashmiri costume.

Her teacher adjusted her dupatta.

"Ready?"

"Always."

Her friend hugged her.

"Be careful."

Preet smiled.

"I know the choreography."

"That's not what I meant."

Preet understood.

"You mean Rizwan?"

Her friend sighed.

"Yes."

Preet smiled mischievously.

"Don't worry. I'm not marrying him today."

Her friends burst out laughing.

"Preet!"

Rizwan appeared backstage.

"Did I hear my name?"

Everyone looked at him.

Preet smiled.

"Apparently, you're the topic of discussion."

Rizwan walked toward her.

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing important."

"That's disappointing."

Preet tilted her head.

"Are you nervous?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"No."

"You're lying."

"How can you tell?"

"Your voice changes."

Rizwan smiled.

"Then perhaps you're getting to know me too well."

Preet's smile softened.

Before she could answer, the announcement came.

"Next performance — the cultural dance presentation from Kashmir!"

The dancers took their positions.

Rizwan moved into the audience.

Preet stood at the center of the stage.

The music began.

Des Rangila

As “Des Rangila” filled the venue, Preet began to dance.

Ho Ho Ho Ho…

Yahan Har Kadam Kadam Pe
Dharti Badle Rang
Yahan Ki Boli Mein
Rangoli Saat Rang

Yahan Har Kadam Kadam Pe
Dharti Badle Rang
Yahan Ki Boli Mein
Rangoli Saat Rang

Dhaani Pagdi Pehne Mausam Hai
Neeli Chaadar Taane Ambar Hai
Nadi Sunehri Hara Samundar
Hai Yeh Sajila

Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila
Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila

Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila
Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila

Vande Mataram
Vande Mataram
Vande Mataram
Vande Mataram

Sindoori Gaalon Wala
Sooraj Jo Kare Thitholi
Sharmile Kheton Ko Dhak De
Chunar Peeli Peeli

Ghoonghat Mein Rang
Panghat Mein Rang
Cham Cham Chamkila

Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila
Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila

Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila
Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila

Abeer Gulaal Se
Chehre Hain Yahan
Muskanon Ki Toli

Rang Haseen Mein
Rang Khushi Mein
Rishte Jaise Holi

Baaton Mein Rang
Yaadon Mein Rang
Rang Rang Rangila

Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila
Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila

Ishq Ka Rang
Yahan Par Gehra
Chadh Ke Kabhi Na Utre
Sache Pyar Ka Thehra Sa Rang
Chhalke Par Na Bikhre

Rang Ada Mein
Rang Haya Mein
Hai Re Rasila

Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila
Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila

Yahan Har Kadam Kadam Pe
Dharti Badle Rang
Yahan Ki Boli Mein
Rangoli Saat Rang

Dhaani Pagdi Pehne Mausam Hai
Neeli Chaadar Taane Ambar Hai
Nadi Sunehri Hara Samundar
Hai Re Sajila

Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila
Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila

Ho.. Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila
Des Rangila Rangila
Des Mera Rangila

Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila
Desh Rangila Rangila
Desh Mera Rangila

Her movements were confident, graceful, and perfectly synchronized with the music.

The audience erupted into applause. After a while, the judges announced the results. Preet and her group won the trophy.

Rizwan watched her in amazement.

He had joked with her.

He had flirted with her.

He had sung for her.

But he had never seen her like this.

There was freedom in her dance.

There was pride.

There was joy.

And there was something else.

She danced as if she could see the entire world.

Rizwan whispered to himself,

"She's beautiful."

His friend looked at him.

"You finally admitted it."

Rizwan didn't answer.

He couldn't take his eyes off Preet.

When the song reached its final beat, Preet and the other dancers struck their final pose.

The audience rose to its feet.

Thunderous applause filled the venue.

Preet smiled proudly.

Rizwan clapped louder than anyone.

As she came backstage, Rizwan approached her.

"You were incredible."

Preet smiled.

"You sound surprised."

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you were just a dancer."

"And now?"

Rizwan smiled.

"Now I think you're magic."

Preet laughed.

"Still flirting?"

"No."

She paused.

"No?"

Rizwan's expression became serious.

"Not this time."

For a moment, neither spoke.

Preet could sense the change in his voice.

"Rizwan?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you suddenly so quiet?"

He smiled softly.

"Because I just realized something."

"What?"

"I don't want to impress you anymore."

Preet's smile faded into curiosity.

"Then what do you want?"

Rizwan looked at her.

"I want to know you."

Preet remained silent.

Her friends watched from a distance.

Rizwan continued,

"I came here thinking you were just another person I could charm with a few jokes."

"And now?"

"Now I find myself waiting for your voice. Looking for your smile. And thinking about you when you're not around."

Preet's expression softened.

"That sounds serious."

"It scares me a little."

She smiled.

"Good."

Rizwan laughed.

"Good?"

"Maybe it'll teach you not to flirt with every girl you meet."

He shook his head.

"I don't think I'll need to."

"Why?"

Rizwan smiled.

"Because I think I've already found the one girl I want to flirt with for the rest of my life."

Preet laughed.

"You're impossible."

"And you're smiling."

"Maybe."

"I'll take that as a yes."

She gently shook her head.

But she was still smiling.

And somewhere between Chand Sifarish and Des Rangila, something neither of them had expected had begun.

Rizwan had arrived as a carefree flirt.

He was leaving the day with something far more dangerous—

a heart that had finally fallen in love.