When things are meant to be done, no matter how long it takes until the right moment, they are done. Maktub – as they say in the Middle East, or this is a kismet story – the meaning of Kismet comes from Arabic, which represents fate and destiny. Some things are meant to happen no matter what in a span of time that we just in.

Fifteen years ago, in the heart of Islamabad, I had an experience that has never left me, and this year is the time to see the light. 

I was working in aviation at that time, organizing an event in Islamabad. I was the second time in that amazing country, and it was the moment when I discovered the beauty of Islamabad.  

I had just finished an event for Emirates, a day filled with the polished beauty of aviation, of dreams taking flight. Organizing the event myself, was the first light I opened in aviation. The sun was beginning to set, pouring its golden light over Pakistan’s capital. The air was thick with dust, and the streets rumbled with their usual life — vendors calling, cars honking, footsteps echoing on the broken pavement.

That was the moment when I noticed him.

A boy, no more than ten or twelve years old, barefoot, his clothes worn thin, his eyes sharp and alive. I realized he had been following me since the airport to the hotel. At first, I thought it was just chance — the way children sometimes hover around strangers. But as the minutes passed, I could feel his presence. He wasn’t just following. He was waiting for something. Finally, he gathered his courage. He came closer, stepped into the fading light, and looked at me with a seriousness far beyond his years.

And then, he spoke the words that changed everything.

“You have to do something, so poor people can travel for free.”

For a moment, time stopped. His voice was steady, but his eyes carried a kind of urgency I had never seen before. I was stunned. I had no words. I remained stuck and couldn’t say anything about anything. His words were like a thunderstorm for my brain.  

Here was a boy — barefoot in the dust of Islamabad — who didn’t ask for money, food, or help for himself. Instead, he dreamed of a world where people like him, people with no means, could see beyond the walls of poverty and borders. A world where travel was not a privilege, but a right.

Before I could respond, before I could even ask his name, he was gone. He vanished into the busy streets, swallowed by the crowd, leaving me standing there as if I had just woken from a dream. In the blink of an eye he vanished. 

That moment burned into me. The boy’s figure, the dust on his feet, the glow of the sunset around him, and above all, his words. I regret to this day that I never learned his name. But his message planted itself in my heart, and it never left. Until now. 

That night, the idea began forming in my mind. It was just a spark, but it grew. Years passed. Life moved on. But the boy’s words kept returning, like an echo that refused to fade.

And today, fifteen years later, I am ready to honor that promise.

Through the Be.you.nd Beauty Travel Wellness newsletter, we are creating a space where stories fly as freely as planes. Where voices cross borders. Where travel is not only about tickets and destinations, but about connection, generosity, and shared journeys. We want to give people the chance to see the world, sometimes even for free — because the boy’s wish was never just his. It belongs to all of us who have ever dreamed of flight, in a place that is not easy to reach, even nowadays when flights and travel are supposed to be easy. 

This is my invitation to you, for you, to honor the dream of a boy and open up your experiences, stories and moments of life. Let us carry his dream forward! 

Share your story. Share your ideas. Share your journey. Every voice adds wings. Every story brings us closer to a world where borders cannot cage our imagination or our desire to connect.

Let’s do this together — for the boy in Islamabad who spoke truth in the dust of the streets. Let’s do this for everyone who dreams of flying, moving, traveling and seeing beyond the beauty of the world.

Stories can fly. And when stories fly, people do too.

XoXo 

Andreea