All around them stretched endless green paddy fields, their ripening stalks bending gently whenever the evening breeze passed through them. The soft rustling of the crops blended with the distant sounds of the village, creating a peacefulness that seemed almost untouched by the worries of the world. In the middle of those fields, on a narrow raised embankment of raw earth, two young people sat close to each other, quietly stealing a few precious moments that neither of them knew would soon become a memory they would spend years trying to hold on to.

Rudra Sen was nineteen, had only recently stepped into college, and already carried a sense of responsibility far beyond his years. Beside him sat Swarnali, fifteen or perhaps sixteen, a young girl standing on the threshold of her secondary school examinations and still innocent enough to believe that love, if sincere, could somehow find a way through every obstacle placed in its path. Rudra held her hand tightly, his thumb moving unconsciously over her knuckles as he looked at her with affection mixed with a fear he could never completely hide.