The ink of Karim’s experience had turned from a dark stain into a guiding line for others. He closed his notebook, the page now filled with the elegant verses of Faiz, and felt the quiet satisfaction of a story told honestly, and a future written with integrity.

Karim felt a wave of shame. He realized his short‑term desire for a free tool had jeopardized his livelihood, his trust with his employer, and his own integrity. Instead of giving up, Karim decided to take a different route. He visited the official InPage website and discovered a student discount that reduced the price to a fraction of the full commercial rate. The company also offered a free 30‑day trial, which was enough for him to finish the Faiz feature and prove his capability.

Karim clicked “Skip,” and the installer crashed. He rebooted his laptop, only to find the screen filled with strange symbols. His desktop icons were replaced with cryptic folders, and a new program called “SystemCleaner.exe” launched automatically, promising to “fix the errors caused by the illegal download.” Panic rose in his chest. The next morning, Karim arrived at the newspaper office with a heavy heart. His laptop refused to start; the screen remained black despite pressing the power button. He called his friend, Saima, a tech support specialist, and explained the situation. Saima listened patiently and said, “Karim, the file you downloaded was most likely a trojan. It has corrupted the boot sector of your computer. The only safe way to recover is to reinstall the operating system and run a proper antivirus scan.”

She also warned him, “Even if you had managed to install InPage, using cracked software is illegal. The developers spend years creating the fonts, the layout engine, and the support for Urdu script. They deserve to be paid for their work.”