My name is Prasanta. I was just an ordinary village boy with big dreams but an empty pocket. And in the same village lived a girl named Koyel.
We were the same age. Same school. Same classroom. But very different lives.
Koyel was quiet, intelligent, and strong-minded. I was simple, sometimes careless, but I never gave up easily. Our story didn't start with love. It started with friendship.
We used to walk home together after school. Sometimes we fought over silly things. Sometimes we laughed so much that people stared at us. Slowly, without even realizing it, my heart started beating differently whenever she smiled.
One evening, during Saraswati Puja, she was wearing a yellow saree. For the first time, I couldn't look at her properly. She noticed and laughed.
"Why are you so silent today?" she asked.
I didn't answer.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I understood something — I was in love.
Days passed. Finally, one afternoon near the river, I gathered all my courage.
"Koyel… I don't know about the future. I don't have money. I don't have anything. But I promise you one thing — one day I will stand on my own feet. And that day, I will ask you to marry me."
She stayed quiet for a long moment.
Then she said softly, "I don't need a rich man. I need a strong heart. But can you fight for us?"
I looked straight into her eyes.
"Yes."
From that day, our love story began.
But love in a village is never easy.
People started talking. Some boys tried to create problems. One day, a group of them stopped me on the road.
"Stay away from her," they warned.
For the first time in my life, I didn't step back. There was pushing, shouting, even a small fight. I came home with a torn shirt and a bleeding lip. My mother was shocked.
But inside, I felt stronger. Because I was not fighting for ego — I was fighting for love.
Then reality hit harder.
After school, I couldn't continue college properly because of money problems. My father fell sick. Our financial condition became worse. I had to choose — dream or responsibility.
I chose responsibility.
I left the village to find work in the city.
The night before leaving, Koyel met me secretly near the old banyan tree.
Tears rolled down her face.
"How long?" she whispered.
"Five years," I said. "Give me five years. I will come back worthy of you."
She held my hand tightly and said, "I will wait."
The next morning, I left.
City life was not kind. Small room. Hard labor. Insults from seniors. Long hours. Sometimes I slept without dinner. Sometimes I cried silently remembering her voice.
But every time I felt like giving up, I remembered that promise under the rain.
Years passed.
We talked less because I was busy working two jobs. Sometimes misunderstandings happened. Sometimes she felt I was changing.
And then one day…
I received a message from a friend in the village.
"Koyel's family is looking for a groom. They fixed a meeting."
My hands started shaking.
Five years were not complete yet.
And I was still not fully ready.
Standing alone in my small rented room, I realized —
I was about to lose her.
(To be continued in Part 2…)