Pressing her knees close to her chest, Mridula sat quietly in a corner of the balcony. The dried traces of tears still lingered on her soft cheeks. Her disheveled hair lay scattered across her back. With a weary face, she gazed at the vast blue sky.
Clouds, soft as cotton, drifted across the heavens. From the top floor, they seemed even closer. How she wished she could float away on their wings to some faraway place! At this moment, even disappearing from Subas’s sight would bring her relief.
Wiping her cheeks with her palm, she got up. The clock had struck twelve. The peon was supposed to come at noon to collect the lunch. She hadn’t realized how much time she had taken to compose herself. Tying her hair, she stepped into the kitchen, immersing herself in chores in an attempt to forget the morning.
Within an hour, everything was done. Freshly cleaned and refreshed, she sat down for her prayers—only for tears to pour down her cheeks once again.
Mridula, the cherished daughter of her parents, had never had a wish go unfulfilled. So when she mentioned Subas to her father, he had not objected. Instead, he had personally sent a proposal to their family for marriage.
Subas Mahbub.
The first time she saw him, it was in a gentle drizzle of monsoon rain.
Annoyed while waiting for her driver in front of the college, Mridula had finally decided to walk towards the bus stand when, out of nowhere, a man had appeared with an umbrella. Handing it to her, he had stepped into the rain himself. Running a hand through his wet hair, he had looked back and smiled—just once.
That single smile had shaken Mridula’s world.
Why had he smiled like that?
Did he not know that with that very smile, he could make countless girls like her lose themselves?
The next day, she had searched for him in college to return the umbrella. She learned that he was Subas Mahbub—her senior. The campus heartthrob.
Mridula hesitated.
Subas seemed like a distant planet surrounded by rings of admirers. Getting close to him seemed nearly impossible, let alone confessing her feelings.
So she had stepped back.
The umbrella had remained with her, along with a silent promise—one day, she would return it. And that day, she would blurt out everything bottled up inside her.
But that day had never come.
She had only admired him from afar, an unattainable dream.
Then, suddenly, that dream had come back into her life.
She could hardly believe it.
She had always been close to her father, sharing stories of her college days with him. Once, in passing, she had told him about Subas. Perhaps her father had caught the unfamiliar gleam of happiness in her eyes, but Mridula never imagined that he would actually find Subas and arrange the marriage.
Overwhelmed with joy, she had wept, hugging her father tightly.
When asked why she wanted to marry Subas, she had simply said, “He seems like a good man. I believe he will keep me happy.”
She hadn’t lied.
But on the first day they met after the proposal, Subas had spoken the truth—
“I can’t marry you.”
A crushing blow.
It felt like the world of dreams she had built was shattering like a glass box, each fragment cutting into her.
In a soft voice, she had asked, “Is there someone else?”
His answer had been uncertain—
“I don’t know if it’s love or not. But I’m searching for someone.”
Until he found her, he didn’t want to commit.
Mridula had said nothing.
Their families remained unaware of this conversation.
Before they could speak up, the arrangements had already been made in a way that left them with no choice but to accept.
She had convinced herself that her love alone would be enough for both of them.
Maybe Subas didn’t love her now.
But she would love him so much that the emptiness between them would disappear.
With time, everything falls into place.
One day, he would love her back.
But barely a month into their marriage, she realized—she had been wrong.
You can sit in an empty space, but when someone’s heart already belongs to another, no one—not even Mridula—could claim that space.
She felt like she had trapped Subas in a cage.
And in doing so, she had caged herself, too.
Two imprisoned souls could never be each other’s open windows.
Small neglects, little bitterness—day by day, the distance only grew.
A knock on the door shattered her thoughts.
Wiping her tears quickly, she opened it.
It wasn’t the peon.
It was Subas.
His sharp eyes didn’t miss the fresh tears lingering on her lashes.
But he said nothing.
They ate in silence, both trying to bury the bitterness of the morning beneath layers of unspoken words.
As they got up from the table, Subas suddenly spoke—
“Stay at your parents’ house for a few days.”
It wasn’t a request.
It was an exile.
Mridula swallowed hard, holding back her tears.
She nodded in agreement.
Why did her heart ache at the thought of not seeing that cold, distant face for a few days?
The moment she reached home, heavy rain began to pour.
Her mother, delighted by their unexpected arrival, busied herself in the kitchen. Soon, steaming-hot fritters and the aroma of khichuri filled the air.
At her parents’ house, Subas seemed like a different man.
The cold indifference was gone.
His smile now reached his eyes.
Between laughter and playful conversations, night crept in.
It was time for him to leave.
Worried about him traveling alone at this hour, her parents insisted he stay.
When their words failed, they relented.
Outside, the rain drizzled softly.
“One minute.”
Mridula ran inside and returned with an umbrella.
“You didn’t bring one when you came. Here…”
Before she could finish, Subas snatched it from her hands.
His eyes widened in shock.
“This umbrella… How did you get this?”
Mridula remained silent.
It was his umbrella.
The one he had given her on that rainy day.
She hadn’t expected him to remember it after all this time.
But he did.
His fingers traced the initials carved on the handle—the mark he had engraved himself.
So, it really was his.
But how had it ended up with her?
Stepping away from the door, he turned to face her.
A shadow of realization crossed his face.
“You… You’re the girl from that monsoon rain?”
Mridula froze.
His voice carried a deep sorrow she had never heard before.
Heart pounding, she nodded hesitantly, lowering her gaze.
Subas glanced around briefly—then, without warning, pulled her into a tight embrace.
“God! Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He gripped her even tighter, as if afraid to let go.
“Do you know how long I’ve searched for you? Your rain-drenched face, hidden behind those windswept curls—it haunted my dreams for years!”
He had been searching for her all along.
Yet, she had been right in front of him.
Tears streamed down Mridula’s face.
All this time…
She had been the one Subas had unknowingly longed for.
His touch wiped away the last traces of hurt.
All hesitation melted away.
Burying her face in his shoulder, she let out a choked sob.
After countless days and endless nights, they had finally found their open window.
No longer imprisoned in silent agony, they were now bound—by love.
As the rain drummed softly against the earth, the whispered confessions echoed in the night—
I love you. I love you.
This name, this face, these eyes…
This ‘you’ hidden deep in my heart— I have loved you all along.
