Year 1978
Like every year, the Durga Puja festival was the biggest celebration in town.
The cultural group Radhika belonged to had been preparing for weeks, decorating the pandal, organizing performances, rehearsing songs late into the evenings. The entire village felt alive during those days. Lights shimmered across the streets, drums echoed in the air, and the scent of incense mixed with excitement.
It was during one of those festival evenings that she grew closer to Shomit.
Shomit studied in the same college as Radhika, though he was two years younger than her. He was good-looking, confident, and known among his friends for his charm. But what most people also knew was that he had a quiet crush on Radhika for a long time.
He wasn't the only one.
Many admired her. Some openly, some silently. Radhika's friendly nature made it easy for people to grow fond of her. She spoke to everyone kindly, laughed easily, and treated people without distance or arrogance. To her, friendship was simple and natural.
But not everyone saw it that way.
One evening, after the cultural rehearsals ended, Shomit gathered the courage to confess his feelings. He spoke nervously, yet sincerely. He told her how long he had admired her, how he waited just to see her smile during college hours.
Radhika, flattered and emotional, accepted his proposal.
At first, everything felt new and exciting. Shomit liked her friendly personality. He admired how easily she spoke to people and how respected she was in the community. But slowly, that admiration began to change.
What he once appreciated, he now questioned.
He began asking why she smiled at other boys. Why she spoke to them. Why she stayed back after events. His tone shifted from curiosity to control. He started insisting that she limit her interactions, especially with male friends.
"You don't need to talk to everyone," he would say. "You're mine now."
At first, she laughed it off.
Then she started adjusting.
Gradually, people in the town began noticing their relationship. Whispers spread. Conversations reached her home. It didn't take long before her family found out.
They were completely against it. They tried reasoning with her. They met Shomit's family. They observed his behaviour. But nothing reassured them. They worried about his unstable financial background and his increasingly aggressive attitude. Even her best friend warned her once.
"Think carefully," her friend had said. "Love shouldn't make you smaller."
But Radhika ignored the advice. She believed love required sacrifice.
As months passed, Shomit's possessiveness grew worse. He became strict. Demanding. Controlling. He would question her constantly. If someone spoke to her, he grew angry. If someone looked at her, he accused her of encouraging it.
There were days he shouted at her for no reason. And sometimes, in moments of uncontrolled anger, he crossed lines that should never be crossed.
He hit her.
For speaking to someone.
For laughing too loudly.
For simply existing the way she always had.
Radhika told herself it was love. That he was only afraid of losing her. That this intensity meant he cared deeply. Slowly, without realizing it, she began losing pieces of herself, her freedom, her laughter, her confidence. But she still believed this was what love looked like. When her family finally decided to arrange her marriage with a suitable boy from another town, tension exploded.
Radhika refused.
Shomit panicked.
And together, in desperation and rebellion, they made a decision that would change everything.
They decided to elope.
Year 1983
Radhika made her decision in fear and hope at the same time.
She took some cash and a few pieces of jewellery from home. Shomit told her they would go to Bangalore, where his cousin lived. There, they could start a new life and get married without interference.
Radhika agreed.
They reached Bangalore after a long train journey. The city felt bigger than anything she had known, louder, faster, unfamiliar. When they got down at the railway station, Radhika sat on a waiting bench while Shomit went to a nearby phone booth to call his cousin and confirm the address.
She sat quietly, watching people rush past her.
A man approached her and asked something in a language she could not understand properly. He seemed to be asking for directions. She tried to respond but failed to explain.
Before Shomit returned, the man had already left. When Shomit came back and saw her speaking to someone, his expression changed instantly.
"Who was he?" he demanded.
"I don't know," she replied calmly. "He was asking for an address, I think. I couldn't understand him."
But Shomit was already angry.
Without listening further, he grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her out of the station. They took a taxi and reached his cousin's house. They stayed there for the night. Shomit explained everything to his cousin and announced that they planned to get married soon.
The next day, they went shopping for wedding clothes.
They entered a large showroom. While Radhika was selecting sarees, the shop owner noticed her and smiled.
"You have a very graceful presence," he said politely. "If you ever wish to work, we could use someone like you here."
Radhika felt a small spark of hope. Bangalore was expensive. She had no idea how long they would stay with Shomit's cousin. Maybe working would help her survive in the city.
"I would like that," she replied softly.
Shomit had heard every word. Before she could understand what was happening, his hand struck her face. The slap echoed in the showroom. People turned to look. Silence filled the air.
"How dare you?" he shouted.
He dragged her outside, ignoring the stares of strangers. They reached a nearby bus stop. It had started raining.
Radhika tried to explain. "I only thought it would help us. We need money—"
But his anger had already taken control.
He slapped her again.
Then, in a moment that changed everything, he snatched her bag, the one containing her jewellery and cash, and walked away.
She thought he would return.
She waited.
Morning turned to afternoon. Afternoon turned to evening.
He never came back.
The rain grew heavier than expected.
Radhika stood under a narrow bus shelter on Old Airport Road, Office workers crowded around her, complaining about traffic and late buses.
Bangalore in the rain felt impatient and alive.
Radhika felt lost.
It was only her second day in the city. She did not know anyone. She did not even know the exact address of Shomit's cousin. He had taken everything, her money, her jewellery, her trust. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered her family's warnings. Her friend's advice. Every sign she had ignored.
That was when she noticed someone.
He stood a few feet away, not under the shelter. Rain fell directly on him, soaking his shirt. He did not move. He did not look irritated. He simply stood there, watching the road as if observing something invisible. Water ran down his face. He did not wipe it away.
Radhika hesitated.
Maybe he was waiting for someone.
Maybe he didn't care about the rain.
Or maybe, she thought, he was just strange.
After a moment, she stepped closer. "Excuse me," she said softly. "You'll get completely drenched. You can stand here."
He turned toward her.
His expression was not confused, just attentive. As if her voice mattered more than the storm.
"Thank you," he said.
He stepped under the shelter. Up close, he looked like any young man in his twenties. Calm face. Observant eyes. But there was something steady about him, something that did not match the restless crowd around them.
"You're not from Bangalore, are you?" she asked politely.
"No," he replied.
There was a pause, as if he was deciding how much to say.
"I'm new," he added.
They stood quietly, listening to rain hit the metal roof. Normally she would not speak to strangers. But something about him felt safe. Not intrusive. Not awkward.
Just present.
"I'm Radhika," she said.
He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary.
"Raj," he replied.
A bus rushed past without stopping. People complained loudly.
Raj looked at the road, then back at her. "How long is a normal human evening?" he asked.
She blinked. "What?"
"I mean," he corrected himself, "how long does it usually take for people to reach home from work?"
He sounded thoughtful, not irritated.
The rain continued to fall.
Radhika felt something shift inside her, like a door opening quietly.
Raj noticed her tears.
"Why are you crying?" he asked gently.
For reasons she could not explain, she told him everything. About Shomit. About running away. About being abandoned in a city she did not know.
Raj listened without interrupting. Without reacting.
When she finished, he simply said, "Don't worry. I will not leave you alone. I will help you return home."
He put his hand into his pocket and took out a small square piece of gold. He placed it in her hand.
"This may help you," he said.
Radhika stared at it in shock. Before she could ask more, the rain began to slow. Raj stepped away from the shelter and started walking.
She followed him a few steps. "Where do you stay?" she asked.
He gave a faint smile. "I am looking for a place to live."
She felt an unusual sense of safety near him. Something calm. Something steady.
Later that evening, gathering courage, Radhika returned to the same showroom. She showed the owner the piece of gold Raj had given her. The owner examined it carefully. It was pure.
He offered her cash in exchange and, remembering her earlier conversation, offered her a job and a small place to stay above the showroom.
For the first time since arriving in Bangalore, she felt a little hope.
She did not know then that this rainy evening was not the end of her story.
It was the beginning.