In Search of the Diary at the Bottom of the Sea

Fear had come and gone in our lives, but Saira’s weeping, her name etched on that cloth, and her ghostly presence on the yacht had shaken us to our core.

We understood now: to grant her peace, we had to return what the sea had stolen. Fazlu Majhi had said, “Her ‘stars’ are a diary and a gold chain—treasures she cherished.”

And so, our mission began. Today, we dive into the depths to reclaim Saira’s lost memories.

Preparations and Dread

At dawn, we gathered. The boat was ready: ropes, nets, a metal detector, and basic diving gear. Fazlu Majhi joined us, his knowledge of Saira’s final voyage guiding our path.

Before setting off, he warned, “Stay vigilant. She wants her belongings back, but betrayal or cowardice will awaken her wrath.”

His words hung heavy. I declared, “None of us will flee. We’ll find what she seeks.”

Back to the Sea

We sailed slowly toward the cursed zone. Noon brought clear skies and calm winds, yet an invisible tension gripped us—as if eyes watched, waiting.

By 1 p.m., we reached the area. The water here was deep, the seabed littered with sand and ancient debris—fragments of the sea’s forgotten past. Faruk and I marked spots where relics might lie.

The Dive and a Strange Discovery

Faruk dove first, descending 15 feet. He surfaced minutes later, gasping, “There’s an old wooden box—couldn’t open it.”

We guessed it might hold pieces of the yacht or Saira’s possessions. On our second dive, Faruk and I plunged together.

The water grew murky, a foggy haze limiting visibility. Shadows seemed to swim behind us. Then, we spotted it—a rotting box, its lid sealed. The metal detector buzzed fiercely.

We hauled it up. Carved on its surface was a name: SAIRA.

My heart stopped.

The Chain’s Secret

On deck, we pried the box open. Water had ruined much inside, but a cloth wrapped in kadam leaves survived. Unfolding it, we found a weathered diary and a delicate gold chain. The chain bore a locket—a photo of an old man and a young girl. Saira and her father.

Mizan Bhai cried, “These are her ‘stars’! This is what she wanted!”

Relief washed over me—a burden lifted.

Her Voice Returns

Suddenly…

A cold breeze swept the boat, though the air was still. Then, a sound—a girl’s laughter. Saira’s laughter.

We froze.

Above, a star flickered in the daytime sky—a fleeting spark before vanishing.

Tears in Fazlu Majhi’s Eyes

Fazlu Majhi clutched the diary, tears streaming. “This was her treasure… her dreams live here.”

I flipped to the first page. It read:

“The sea still calls me. One day, it might take me. But may my stars never fade.”

We realized then: her “stars” were not just memories, but her love, her soul. Peace would come only with their return.

A Final Offering

We resolved to surrender the diary and chain to the sea, at the spot where her life had ended. This time, willingly—a ritual of closure.

Fazlu Majhi laid the items on a cloth and whispered, “Saira, we haven’t forgotten you. Here are your stars. Rest now.”

We cast them into the waves. A flash of light erupted beneath the surface, followed by eerie stillness.

A New Dawn

On our return, fear had dissolved into calm. Mizan Bhai noted, “Look—the waves stayed quiet. The sea’s at peace.”

I replied, “Saira’s found hers.”

At shore, Fazlu Majhi sat alone, gazing at the sky. A star glimmered—even as the sun set, it reminded us: She remains… but she weeps no more.

[To be continued...]