The summer vacations had brought with them not just rest, but purpose. Rimsha, ever since the last family gathering, had been working tirelessly. With the help of their cousin Imran, she had managed to clear out the old library and bookshop that once belonged to their late father. Every corner of the place echoed with the rustling memories of books once read, stories once cherished, and a quietness that had long grown too still. But now, with Rimsha's determined efforts and Imran's unwavering support, the transformation had begun.
Books had been sorted—some sold to collectors, others donated to schools and charity centers. The shelves that once cradled countless stories were old, some broken. Those, too, had been sold as scrap. New shelving, taller and sturdier, was scheduled to be delivered within two days.
Maryam visited the place as often as she could, balancing it with her responsibilities at home. Each time she arrived, the sight of her younger sister Rimsha covered in dust, sleeves rolled up, clipboard in hand, made her smile with pride.
It was one such warm evening when Maryam visited again, this time bringing little Ubaid along. The sun was still up but slowly inching toward the horizon, casting golden hues through the half-covered windows of the old bookshop. Ubaid, full of energy and curiosity, ran around the place as if it were a playground. In the corner near an old cashier's desk, he discovered a box — slightly torn, but colorful.
"Ammi! Ammi!" he called, pulling at Maryam's scarf. "Look what I found!"
Maryam turned around, her eyes falling on the faded box in his tiny hands. "What is it, beta?"
Ubaid struggled with the flap but couldn't open it.
"Let me see," Rimsha said, walking over, brushing off her hands. She gently lifted Ubaid in her arms and looked at the box.
"Oh wow, crayons! Sixty-four pieces," she said dramatically, raising an eyebrow as if she had discovered treasure. "This is yours now."
Ubaid's eyes lit up, and everyone burst into warm laughter, especially Imran who was wiping sweat off his forehead with a towel. "Rimsha, you always find a way to win his heart," he said, chuckling.
Maryam smiled, watching the affection between her sister and her son. These small moments were the true jewels of life.
About an hour later, a car's horn beeped twice outside. It was Haroon. He stepped out of the car with a noticeable excitement in his stride and a satisfied smile on his face. Maryam noticed it immediately.
"You're glowing, Mr. Haroon. What's the news?" she asked playfully.
Haroon chuckled and looked around at everyone gathered. "I have great news," he said. "I just came from a meeting with representatives of two grocery chains. They've agreed to supply their products to our superstore as soon as the setup is ready!"
"Are you serious?" Imran asked, stepping forward in excitement.
"Completely," Haroon confirmed, nodding. "One of them even said they'd offer branded display racks and signage."
"That's amazing," Rimsha said, clapping her hands together. "Now it's starting to feel real!"
"It is real," Haroon said, placing a hand on Imran's shoulder. "And it's happening fast."
Imran added, "The new shelves are coming the day after tomorrow, In shaa Allah. I've already confirmed with the supplier. We'll start organizing everything over the weekend, and I suggest we aim for the opening ceremony next Monday."
"In shaa Allah!" everyone responded in unison.
Then Maryam raised a curious finger, tilting her head with a grin. "Wait a second. Are we just going to call it 'The Superstore'? Because that's what I'm hearing."
Everyone looked at each other.
"Oh… we never thought about the name!" Rimsha admitted, giggling.
"Well, we need a proper name. Something catchy. Something with meaning," Maryam insisted.
"Agreed," said Haroon. "Let's brainstorm."
"Hmm... what about 'New Chapter Mart'?" Imran suggested. "Since it was a bookstore and now we're starting a new chapter?"
"Nice, but maybe a bit too poetic," said Rimsha.
"'Family Basket'?" Haroon offered.
"Too common," Maryam said, shaking her head. "It needs personality."
"What about something that keeps Baba's memory alive?" Rimsha proposed softly. The mood momentarily shifted. Everyone nodded in quiet respect.
"Like what?" asked Maryam.
"What about 'Amana Superstore'?" Rimsha suggested. "It means trust. And Baba always said, running a shop is about earning people's trust."
Everyone paused, letting the word settle.
"Amana…" Haroon repeated slowly. "It sounds nice. Noble. Islamic. And it holds emotional value."
"I like it," Maryam said gently, already imagining the signboard.
"Then it's decided," Imran concluded. "Amana Superstore it is."
Cheers and laughter followed, and Ubaid, still sitting on the floor with his new crayon box, suddenly shouted, "I'll draw the store!"
"You can make the first poster," Rimsha teased.
And just like that, the dream that had started with clearing dusty bookshelves was now blossoming into a vision of a family-run business—rooted in legacy, fueled by love, and built on trust.
As the sun dipped behind the buildings, casting long shadows inside the now-empty shop, the small family stood together—among boxes, memories, and big hopes—ready to step into a new chapter.
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