It was almost midnight. The city roads were nearly empty. After a light rain, the wet asphalt was glistening and yellow street lights were making strange shadows on the water.
Raghu was driving his old taxi back home. Tiredness was clear on his face. All he wanted was to reach home, make tea and sleep.
Then he saw her.
A girl in a modest Muslim dress with hijab was standing alone on the roadside. Her dress was a little wet from rain and her face was so calm that Raghu felt like she was part of a dream.
Raghu stopped.
“Do you need to go somewhere?”
She looked at him for a few seconds.
“I... I don't know,” she whispered.
“I don't remember anything. I don't know who I am... where I came from.”
Raghu felt pity.
“Please sit. It's very late. Let me take you to a safe place.”
After a while he asked, “Your name?”
She closed her eyes.
“Mu... Muskan.”
“Muskan? Beautiful name,” Raghu smiled.
Suddenly Muskan's face changed.
“Raghu... stop the car!”
Far away in the darkness, a black shadow was standing. Muskan started trembling.
“He has come again.”
Suddenly someone placed a hand on the taxi window. Then the handprint disappeared. Raghu sped away.
That night, instead of dropping her at an unknown place, he brought 25-year-old Muskan to his small house.
“Don't be afraid. I live alone. You can stay here tonight.”
For the next few days Muskan stayed there. She was not an ordinary girl. She would see old palaces, a forest shining in moonlight, and hear a voice every time —
“Give me your power, Muskan.”
She would wake up scared, and 31-year-old Raghu in his simple North Indian kurta would sit beside her and say —
“Don't be scared. I am here.”
Slowly love grew. Raghu made tea for her. Muskan fixed his clothes. When he went to drive the taxi, she waited at the door.
One evening Raghu returned drenched in rain. Muskan gave him a towel.
“Why don't you take care of yourself?”
“Because there is no one to take care of me.”
“Now there is.”
That night Raghu realized he had fallen in love with her. But one question remained — Who is Muskan?
One night on the terrace under the full moon, Raghu said, “Muskan, I want to tell you something.”
Suddenly Muskan's eyes started glowing. A soft golden light spread around her.
“What is happening to me?”
Many pictures flashed in her mind — a huge ancient palace, and a mysterious Jinn in front of her.
“If I have your power, I will become the most powerful.”
That greedy Jinn had snatched most of her power and blurred her memories. Only one thing remained — the light of her soul.
Then Raghu understood — Muskan was not a human. She was a noble Jinn who used to help people in her own world.
Muskan looked at Raghu, tears in her eyes.
“Now I remember everything.”
“So will you leave me and go?” Raghu asked slowly.
“I don't want to leave you.”
The black shadow appeared again at the door. But this time Raghu didn't step back. He held her hand.
“You are not alone.”
Muskan closed her eyes. The power inside her awakened. Golden light spread all around. The greedy Jinn's power weakened. She remembered her home, her world, her powers. And she remembered her biggest power was not magic, but her kind heart.
She did not destroy him. She ended his evil power and sent him far away.
In the morning, the sun rose.
Muskan was sitting on the small terrace. No fear in her eyes now.
“Now you remember everything?”
“Yes.”
“So now?”
“I can go back to my world.”
Raghu tried to smile, “You should go.”
Muskan held his hand.
“But what about my heart? It is here.”
Raghu's eyes became moist.
“So you will stay?”
“If you will keep me with you.”
“I had accepted you as mine that very night.”
After that day everything changed. Muskan used her power only for good. Raghu still drove his taxi, but now there was always a special passenger — Muskan.
And Raghu understood that his most beautiful story did not start in a palace, but in a simple taxi and a small house.
Sometimes, you don't need to know someone's identity. To make someone yours, it is enough to recognize their heart.
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