It was a beautiful yet slightly uneasy morning in July 2023. It was Friday, and the air of Islamabad carried a soft humidity mixed with the glow of the rising sun — the kind that makes travel feel magical before it even begins. Every face in our group carried the same colour — the colour of adventure.
But before the journey even started, our friend Kamran suddenly announced,
“I’m not going.”
No one knows what emotion struck him at that moment. We tried everything to convince him. We even tempted him with the aroma of biryani… oh, forgive me — the fragrance of freshly cooked meat. But he remained stubborn.
After countless requests, promises, and jokes, he finally agreed. We all breathed a sigh of relief.
As the luggage was loaded into the car, someone joked:
“Kamran Sahib! If you didn’t want to come, why did you put your luggage in first?”
Everyone burst into laughter — and that laughter became the spark that truly began our journey.
🚗 The Road, the Traffic, and Friday Prayers
Zahid Iqbal Awan, our self-appointed caravan leader, instructed the driver:
“Take Kashmir Road. There will be less traffic.”
But the driver seemed emotionally attached to Double Road and turned there instead. We got stuck in heavy traffic.
I reminded Zahid Sahib:
“You told me to pick you up from Double Road, yet here we are — in the worst of it!”
We laughed again. Somehow, even the traffic didn’t feel annoying. It felt like the sweet confusion that often marks the beginning of happiness.
🌿 Friday Prayers and a Test of Ablution
As Friday prayer time approached, we stopped at a mosque.
While performing ablution, one friend whispered,
“Bro, the back wall of this washroom is missing!”
I replied,
“The front isn’t much better either!”
We laughed, performed wudu, offered Friday prayers, and someone remarked:
“If your intentions are pure, who needs a door?”
🍖 By the River: Meat, Good Deeds, and a Lost Key
We searched for a peaceful riverside spot and finally stopped at a beautiful bend. In front of us flowed the Swat River. On one side stood trees; on the other, mountains.
The path was muddy, and we saw a car stuck nearby. Together, we helped push it out.
“Good deeds during a journey bring blessings,” someone said.
“Ameen,” we replied.
Some friends started reheating the meat. Others were busy helping with vehicles. Then came the moment of chaos.
The driver tossed the car key to Riaz.
But instead of landing in his hand, the key flew straight into the river.
“Riaz’s hands stayed empty, but the river became richer!”
The car was locked. We searched desperately but found nothing.
Local children joined in to help. Someone suggested building a small stone barrier to reduce the water flow. We tried. The water level lowered slightly — but the key remained missing.
Suddenly someone shouted,
“There’s a snake!”
Everyone jumped.
“If the snake swallowed the key,” someone joked, “we’ll definitely need a duplicate!”
Fear and laughter blended into an unforgettable atmosphere.
☕ Tea, a Mat, and the Key Maker
Since the key seemed impossible to recover, we decided to make tea.
Iqbal Sahib prepared it. Meanwhile, Jawad Malik casually lay down on a local boy’s mat and fell asleep. The boy was busy speaking Pashto on the phone; neither we understood him nor he us.
The aroma of tea filled the air.
“Tea is the drink that gives flavour even to sorrow.”
We contacted a locksmith, who promised to arrive shortly.
At that very moment, Riaz’s trousers revealed a colour so unique that someone joked:
“This shade only appears after a rainbow!”
The laughter echoed once again.
Eventually, the key issue was resolved. Photos were taken. Tea was finished. Peace returned to our hearts.
We resumed our journey — destination: Bahrain.
🏠 Night in Bahrain
Upon arrival, Irfan Ahmad and Zahid Iqbal searched for a hotel and found a reasonably priced room.
Waqas, our special cook, immediately started preparing dinner.
We ate, walked through the market briefly, and then slept deeply — as if we had never been awake.
“A journey doesn’t give you fatigue; it gives you memories. Sleep is the reward for those memories.”
🌄 Return, Separation, and the Lake Adventure
The next morning, we woke up to cool mountain air. After tea and breakfast, I had to return to Islamabad due to unavoidable circumstances.
My heart didn’t want to leave, but sometimes obligations have wings stronger than desire.
We took photos, said goodbye, and I left with a heavy heart.
“Some roads never return — they simply stay within you.”
🚙 The Lake and the Accident
After reaching Kalam, they rented a jeep to visit a lake.
The driver was told, “We’ll return by evening. Please wait.”
Waqas and Kamran climbed onto the roof — brave hearts, friends of the wind. Riaz bought peaches from a local vendor. Everyone was cheerful.
The road ran along the river, through trees and near glaciers — it looked like a path to paradise.
Then fate shifted.
The jeep suddenly began rolling backward. Those on the roof jumped off. A mobile phone fell into the river. The brakes failed.
The vehicle was moments away from plunging into the river when a massive rock stopped it.
It was nothing short of divine mercy.
But during the chaos, one friend’s foot became trapped under the jeep. Ironically, he had earlier said:
“I won’t go into the water — it’s too cold.”
Now he was stuck in the middle of it.
Everyone rushed to help. An elderly man advised:
“If we remove the tire, his foot may come out — but it could be severely injured.”
They hesitated.
Ropes were brought. The jeep was carefully pulled aside. Finally, he was freed — injured, but safe.
“Sometimes life tests you in a single second.”
🏥 Hospital and Return
The injured friend was taken to the hospital in Saidu Sharif. Facilities were limited, but prayers were abundant.
Fortunately, no bones were broken — only swelling.
They thanked God and began the return journey.
That night, they stayed at a quiet roadside hotel. They drank tea, ate dinner, and sat silently — like soldiers returning from battle.
Some friends were deeply shaken; it was their first experience of such a dangerous journey.
We told them:
“This is part of life. Don’t fear it — learn from it.”
🌅 The Ending — and an Unfinished Promise
Back in Islamabad, I visited the injured friend. Everyone was safe.
I thought to myself:
“Perhaps pain was not written in my destiny — that’s why I returned earlier.”
But I made a promise:
Next time, when everyone is ready,
we will return —
to that same lake,
that same valley,
that same riverbank,
where this journey remained incomplete.
“We set out searching for happiness,
but the river taught us —
a journey is not just a destination; it is a feeling.”
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