| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind

| The Gulf of Oman |

Tu mera koi na hokay bhi kuch lagay

Samajh ke bhi, na samajh mai saku

Saweron ka mere tu sooraj lagay

Tu mera koi na hokay bhi kuch lagay...

Her Baba had always said to never consider the weather your friend. Meerab now understood why. It betrayed swiftly and mercilessly. The clear sky had turned into a raging thunderstorm in mere minutes, waging war on everything in its way. Part of this everything was Flight PX501 of Phoenix Air, on which she and 220 other individuals were currently on.

Meerab moved her clammy hands from her cream silk blouse and wiped her hands on her navy trousers, the signature uniform for flight attendants on-board. It's not like she hadn't accepted the idea of turbulence as being a normal part of this job, but to experience the worst storm to grace the Gulf of Oman in decades, in her first week of in-flight training? Was this some sick karma for lying to Mama and Baba about her whereabouts this week? Meerab gulped and shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. Things had already gone haywire in all other aspects of her life, no surprise that turbulence had now joined the club. I'm sorry Mama Baba. It's going to be okay, I'll be home in a few hours. He's here. He knows what he's doing. Woh turbulence bhi theek hi karday ga.

She was meant to be sat in her seat, buckled up, but of course Meerab was not one to just shut-up and obey. Standing outside the cockpit door, she had the strangest urge to go inside and see him. Order him to land this damn plane on firm ground. For him to look at her with his legendary patience. She'd watch the flare of his nose, the twitch of his mouth and moustache, and hear him say "Meerab" in the way he always said, like he was praying for patience. Then get told off for not being in her seat. For her to tell him not to order her around and just get on with flying the plane. Of course that wouldn't go down well; one doesn't ideally want to piss off the pilot on the plane they're experiencing turbulence in. Before she could think, her hand shot up, knocked on the door and then froze mid-air in anticipation of his deep voice.

Captain Murtasim Khan was annoyed. A headache, a storm and a First Officer you disliked would do that to you. The latter two he could deal with in his sleep, but the headache had a name. Meerab. He was genuinely bewildered by the events of the past few days. Just when he thought she couldn't shock him anymore, she upped her previous act and surprised him. Murtasim had never had a hard time understanding people. Everyone needed something at the end of the day. Understand the need and you understood the man.

Meerab had proved to be an enigma from the moment he'd known her. What she needed or wanted was an even greater mystery. You'd think knowing someone for so long would pave the way for an understanding; their fathers were cousins after all. But as the time had gone by and childhood had merged into adolescence and then adulthood, Meerab and Murtasim had gone from being clashing adversaries to almost distant strangers. He had thought things would change in the past two years, and to an extent they had, but Meerab remained the same. An enigma. And now, a challenge.

"Good evening Phoenix 501, how do you read?" Murtasim was brought out of his jumbled thoughts by the air traffic controller in Oman checking in.

"Evening Oman, this is Phoenix 501. We are maintaining altitude and planning to only change if the weather gets worse. We're on course for a smooth landing at Karachi."

"Noted Phoenix 501. Let me know if you require assistance at any point."

"Noted, thank you." Murtasim signed off and took off his ear piece.

Adam, his First Officer sighed again and finally said what he wanted to say. "I still think we should change altitude."

"Maintaining the previous altitude requires raising the nose of the plane, which is going to make us lose airspeed. It'll make us spend more time in the turbulence." Murtasim advised, though he knew his co-pilot knew that.