When the rain falls twice, it falls twice

When Maya first rain fell when she saw Arav, when it rained, it rained.

She was tied under a small blue umbrella at the edge of the university courtyard, with a book on her chest, broken glass, her face half soaked. Her bus was coming soon, and the next bus didn't come for an hour. When he appears - stupid and dry, holding a ridiculous yellow umbrella with cartoon ducks.

"It looks like your umbrella has given up on your life," he said with a smirk, staying next to her.

Maya looked at the umbrella and raised her eyebrows and laughed. "You obviously go through a midlife crisis."

And it's just beginning.

AARAV studied architecture. The Mayans belong to the literature. Their department is on campus, and if it hadn't rained that day, they might not have hit it. However, the storm was relentlessly heavy, forcing her to share a walk, a coffee, and then laugh.

In the coming months, coffee turned into dinner, laughter turned into late calls, and this stroll with the ridiculous duck Regenwarden transformed into memories that would retain them after his path. They were different and similar in all important ways. Maya lived in the story. Her world was phenomenal, poetry, and silence. Aarav created the story from bricks and glass. His world was line, design and precision. But somehow, their world goes together like two puzzles that no one knew.

He called her the "Moon" because she loved the night. She called him Life quickly moved. You've graduated. Aarav received a job in Berlin - leaning towards the good. Maya stayed in Kolkata, wrote for a magazine, taught poetry over the weekend, and waited for late calls due to her timezone.

Distance did not kill her love - it just became quiet.

Then it happened one night.

AARAV slowed down and hesitated his voice.

"Mayya... you want to keep me here for a long time. 2 years, maybe more. I make something big. But that means I can't come back. Not now. "

Maya did not cry.

, but some silence is heavier than the storm.

They both felt it - slow melting. Good morning text came later; the phone was short and rarely laughed. And finally, the silence ceased.

I passed

for two years. There are no phones. There are no e-mails. Just memories. And sometimes, she reminds me of a duck umbrella and coffee together. Then, on a Wednesday morning when I smelled Monson and a second chance, Maya went to her favourite bookstore and saw him.

Aarav.

The old, slightly slimmer one wore the same leather watch she once gave. He was in front of the poetry section and had a book.

Their eyes met. The world has become quiet for a moment. The rain started to fall outside.

None of the first things we talked about.

Finally, Aarav broke the silence.

"I bought this book online the day it came out. But I never imagined I would stand here."

Maya smiled quietly. "The poets like to get closer to their words."

He looked closely at her as if he had counted in her eyes for many years.

"I came back last month," he said. "The project is finished. It looked a little free. I didn't know if I should find you."

"You don't have to," her voice almost whispered. "I've always been here."

They were sitting in a cafe bookstore. We talked for hours. Something unusual, it wasn't. About Berlin, the bookstore and the broken things.

asked Maya: "Why did you stop calling?"

He looked down at the coffee. "Because I didn't want to hold you down, and maybe... I was worried you might have moved on."

"And you?" She asked. He smiled. "We built a building. But I have never built a life. "

Outside, the rain

was getting heavy. Maya laughed. It was the first thing we shared. "

They went together again like they used to be.

AARAV saw it for a long time before answering. "The end of the mistake.

The rain fell outside even more, but this time I didn't feel like anything had been washed away. It felt like something had been born.