Chapter 1: The Monsoons and Misplaced Umbrellas
It was a typical Tuesday in Kolkata. Skyline-er sky-ta chilo ekdom ghumot, packed with heavy clouds ready to burst. Roddur stood under the awning of a small tea stall in Sector V, desperately refreshing his Uber app. Price surge chilo double, ar kono cab-e pawya jachilo na.
“Eram baje abhowyae keu deliveri-o day na, ar cab-o ashe na,” he muttered to himself, brushing a stray lock of wet hair from his forehead.
Right at that moment, she arrived. Like a sudden breath of fresh air in a suffocating room.
Swapno was practically running, holding a bright yellow umbrella that was doing a terrible job of protecting her from the slanting rain. She skidded to a halt right next to him under the narrow tin roof. She was a bit short, reaching just up to Roddur’s shoulder. Her kajal was slightly smudged, and she was panting.
“Uff, bachte parlam!” she exclaimed, looking at the rain, and then she turned her head. Her eyes met Roddur’s.
Roddur looked down at her. She was wearing a simple white kurti with blue jeans, and her hair was tied in a messy bun. There was an instant spark—the kind you read about in books but never actually believe until it happens to you.
“Cha khaben?” the stall owner asked.
Roddur smiled slightly and looked at her. “Apni khaben? I mean… jor bristi porchhe. Ekta cha chola jetei pare.”
Swapno blinked, surprised but exhausted. “Actually, why not? Ekta ‘aadha-cha’ (ginger tea) please.”
That afternoon, amid the roaring sound of Kolkata rain and the smell of hot earthen-cup tea (bharer cha), they spoke for forty-five minutes. He found out she was a graphic designer who just joined a startup nearby. She found out he was a software engineer who hated coding but loved photography. When they exchanged Instagram handles before leaving, both of them secretly hoped the rain would never really stop.
Chapter 2: The Late-Night Texts
Within three weeks, their Instagram DMs moved to WhatsApp. They became each other’s “daily updates.”
Swapno [11:42 PM]: Look at this client feedback! Direct bolechhe ‘make it more vibrant but use pastel colors’. Matha kharap eder?! 😂
Roddur [11:44 PM]: Haha, standard corporate life. Tumi chobi-ta pathao, let me see. Waise, jodi besi stress hoy, stop working. Ratre bhalo ghum dorkar.
Swapno [11:45 PM]: Ghum kothay? Amar toh bhoot-er moton khide peyechhe.
Roddur [11:47 PM]: Check Swiggy in 10 mins. Formality korbe na, address ta kachei aache jokhon, ami jani ki order korte hobe.
Ten minutes later, a delivery rider arrived at Swapno’s flat with hot chicken momos and chocolate brownie. Swapno sat on her balcony, eating momos and looking at the city lights. Her heart did a little flutter. Nobody had cared for her small cravings like this before.
Chapter 3: The First Official Date
They decided to meet on a Sunday at Princep Ghat. It was late autumn, and the weather was perfectly breezy.
Swapno reached early. She was wearing a gorgeous yellow saree with a red bindi—a classic Bengali look. When Roddur walked up to her, wearing a simple white linen shirt and folded sleeves, his heart literally skipped a beat. She looked tiny, elegant, and absolutely breathtaking.
“Apnake toh… chhena-i jachhe na,” Roddur said, a bit nervous, suddenly switching back to the formal ‘apni’.
Swapno laughed, a sweet, musical sound. “Abaad ‘apni’ keno? Tumi bolo! Ar bolo, kemon lagchhe?”
“Khamokha chobi tolar shokh amar,” Roddur murmured softly, looking straight into her eyes. “Ajj bujhlam, real beauty frame-e dhora jay na.”
Swapno blushed furiously, looking down at her bangles. They took a boat ride on the Ganges as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Sitting close to each other in the wooden boat, Roddur gently placed his hand over hers. Swapno didn’t pull away. Instead, she intertwined her fingers with his. The silence between them spoke louder than any confession ever could.
Chapter 4: The Confession at Victoria Memorial
A few months passed. They were inseparable. From testing out different cafes in Park Street to roaming around College Street for old books, they became each other’s favorite habit. But the word “Love” hadn’t been explicitly said yet.
One evening, they were sitting on the green lawns near Victoria Memorial. The grand white marble building was lit up beautifully.
Swapno was talking animatedly about something, her hands moving in the air. Suddenly, she noticed Roddur wasn’t listening. He was just staring at her with an intense, warm expression.
“Ki holo? Amar mukhe ki kichu lege aache?” Swapno asked, touching her cheek.
Roddur reached out, taking both her small hands into his large ones. “Swapno, amar jibon-e r kono swapno nei, except you.”
Swapno stopped talking. The entire world around them seemed to go completely silent.
“Ami jani ami thik thak gochhate pari na kotha,” Roddur continued, his voice thick with emotion. “But I love you. Ekdom pagol-er moton bhalobashi. I can’t imagine a single day without your texts, your laughs, or even your tiny angry face when you don’t get food on time. Will you be mine permanently?”
Tears welled up in Swapno’s eyes. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Because she was short, her face fit perfectly into the nook of his neck and shoulder.
“I love you too, bador,” she whispered, sniffing. “Ami koto din dhore er jonne wait korchi, tumi jano na.”
Roddur wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground, laughing with pure joy.
Chapter 5: Forever and a Day
Fast forward two years.
It was another rainy Tuesday. But this time, they weren’t standing under a random tea stall. They were standing on the balcony of their own newly rented apartment.
Roddur came from behind, wrapping a warm shawl around Swapno’s shoulders and hugging her close from the back. He rested his chin softly on the top of her head.
“Ki bhabcho, moshai?” Roddur asked softly, kissing her hair.
Swapno leaned back against his chest, looking at the rain dancing on the streets below. She held his hands tightly.
“Bhabchi, sedin jodi amar chhata-ta thikthak kaj korto, ar ami jodi oi cha-er dokan-e na dartam… tahole aj amar abhowya-ta koto fike hoto,” she smiled, turning around to look up at him.
Roddur smiled, bending down to plant a soft, loving kiss on her lips. “Rain was just an excuse, Swapno. Destiny pushed you into my life, and I am never letting you go.”
Outside, the city of joy continued to rush through the monsoon, but inside their little world, time stood still in a perfect, forever kind of love.