The First Step of a Thousand Miles (Part-3)


Part 3: A Nervous Welcome

The moment of immigration was near. I stood about six feet away from the counter, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Suddenly, I noticed a signboard indicating that this line was for Western and European travelers only. Panic set in. My mind raced, but it was too late to switch lines now.

Just then, the officer called for the next person. ” With hesitant steps, I approached the counter, handing over my passport and embarkation card. Inside, my heart was a storm of prayers: Ya Allah, please help me through this.

The odds were stacked against me. A Pakistani passport in the wrong line at an international airport? The chances of deportation were nearly certain. The officer looked at my passport, then glanced at me for a brief, agonizing moment. Time seemed to freeze. But then, something unexpected happened—he smiled.

“Welcome to Japan,” he said as he stamped my passport for entry and returned it to me.

My knees almost buckled with relief. Those three words echoed in my ears, filling my heart with gratitude. It felt surreal. I was sure this wasn’t just luck; it was Allah’s mercy and my parents' prayers working in my favor.

When I went to collect my luggage, I was hit with another blow: my bags had been sent back to Bangkok. Now, all I had was a small briefcase and an address written on paper. At the airport help desk, I showed the staff my destination. They pointed out I had two addresses—one in Sagamihara, Kanagawa, and the other in Saitama, far apart and in opposite directions.

After a moment’s thought, I chose Sagamihara. The staff told me I could take either a train or a bus. Considering the freezing night, I opted for the bus. It would take me to Yokohama, and from there, I’d need to hire a taxi.

I exchanged my dollars for yen, bought my ticket, and boarded the bus. The leather jacket I carried wasn’t nearly warm enough for the biting cold, but I wrapped it around me and braced myself for the journey ahead.

After what felt like an eternity, the bus reached its final stop. It was pitch dark, and the clock struck 9 PM. Now, I needed a taxi. At the taxi stand, a few people were ahead of me, including an elderly man and a young boy—possibly a father and son.

I approached them for help in English, showing them the address I was trying to reach. They kindly wrote the address in Japanese for me, ensuring the taxi driver could understand it. But just as they were about to board the next taxi, something unexpected happened.

The man looked at me and exclaimed, “By chance, this taxi is heading to the same area where you need to go!”

What happens next? Who were these strangers, and why was the taxi a significant coincidence? Find out in Part 4.



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