The once-reserved nature of both me and Raman gradually gave way to a sweet transformation—we became a playful and naughty couple, though always within our own limits. Our love wasn't loud, but it was deep and consuming. We began chatting 24x7, sharing even the tiniest details of our days with each other. As the final semester of our MBA rolled in, our bond had become so obvious that the entire group and most of our classmates knew we were together.
We started bunking classes just to spend more time with each other. Exam preparations turned into excuses for meeting up—visiting each other’s homes under the pretext of studying, stealing glances, and building a world of our own in little moments.
Coming from an open-minded family, I had no hesitation in sharing the truth about our relationship with my mother. I remember asking her one day, “Mumma, do you think Papa will agree if Raman comes with a proposal?” She looked at me and smiled warmly, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll make him agree.”
On the other hand, things were completely different for Raman. He came from a conservative, narrow-minded family where the concept of love marriage was not just frowned upon—it was strictly against their norms. I knew this, and I understood his silence. I gave him his time, his space. I knew that he would need all the courage in the world to stand for us.
He didn’t say it, but I could sense the storm he was braving inside. And in those moments, my respect and love for him only grew deeper.
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