Shantiniketan village looked like a living painting created by an artist's brush. Surrounded by lush greenery, a dusty path wound its way through the heart of the landscape. When the dust swirled in the soft afternoon sunlight, it looked as if gold dust had been scattered in the air.
A ten-year-old boy, Ariyan, was running through that dust. Although he had a dusky complexion, his sharp features were enough to charm anyone. Running right behind him, panting heavily, was an eight-year-old girl named Tuli.
"Ariyan Bhaiya! Please stop! I can't run anymore!" Tuli's voice was filled with a huff.
Ariyan stopped under a large Banyan tree. Tuli caught up and grabbed his shirt sleeve. Her large eyes were brimming with tears. Ariyan laughed mischievously and said, "You're such a tiny thing, that's why you can't keep up."
Tuli replied sulkily, "Why do you always leave me behind? Mother said we are moving to the city soon. Who will I run with then?"
The innocent fear of separation was clear in her voice, but Ariyan didn't understand the depth of it back then. He simply promised, "Don't worry, Tuli. Even if you go to the city, I will find you one day."