She was.

They had met three years ago on this very path — a dusty village road flanked by mustard fields, leading to the old railway station. Back then, walking together meant stolen hours, secret laughter, and dreams whispered under the banyan tree. But last year, Arjun had moved to the city for work. Their calls grew shorter. Their silences, longer.

The familiar sound of a bicycle bell made her heart skip. Arjun rounded the corner, shirt sleeves rolled up, a small smile on his face that always seemed to apologize for being late.

She laughed, tears mixing with raindrops that had started falling again. "You’re proposing on a muddy road?"

Ei Poth Chola – Be Together

"Why did you ask me to come here?" she asked.

Now, 2024. The road had been paved. The mustard fields were partly replaced by a new market. But some things remained — like the way Shreya’s hand fit into Arjun’s.