Who Was It?

It's very late at this point. A scary quietness. Outside, the nonstop cry of cicadas repeats sadly. The climate feels weighty and severe. All of a sudden, a tempest or downpour could begin. Prior to hitting the sack, Asad has made a propensity for perusing for some time. Very much like some other day, he was perusing *Bankim's Kopal Kundola* (quite possibly of the earliest heartfelt novel in Bengali writing) when his eyes had unconsciously shut. Unexpectedly, a startling sound woke up him from his daze. His look moved to the typhoon light. The wick had become very dark, and the light was glimmering though no one can easily explain why. Outside, the breeze was yelling uproariously. Asad couldn't sort out the reason for the flashing, yet the breeze's power had definitely expanded, alongside a periodic lightning and thunder. The weather conditions felt like the beginning of the storm — warm, with the mists building, however the precipitation was light. The indications of an adjustment of the weather conditions were clear.

Out of nowhere, Asad felt a chill down his spine. He sat up, hearing a giggling, yet at such 60 minutes, accepting it was hard. Who might it at any point be? Who might be wasting time in such a turbulent evening? He heard no other sound. He was exclusively in a lungi, his middle uncovered, which was all in all too much for a working class edified individual, yet the privileged people as a rule snooze half-pants around evening time.

He saw some development close to the window and affirmed it. Be that as it may, who or what was it? Asad stayed quiet, watching out for the development. The breeze had debilitated a little, and the downpour started with a couple of lets prior to coming fall down in a weighty storm. The breeze got a move on once more, and water began leaking inside. It became important to close the window, yet when he came to contact it, Asad felt an unexpected ache in his chest. Known for his boldness in each circle, this evening he felt somewhat reluctant. What might it at any point be? Who could be outside, soaked in downpour at this hour? He considered progressing with the lamp, yet the tempest's force caused him to understand that the light wouldn't stand the test of time. Dread had proactively taken a firm hold of him. The flashing light of the storm light appeared to be the main wellspring of solidarity as of now. He would have rather not gambled with it, so he chose to trust that the downpour will stop.

The breeze had quieted, yet the downpour was expanding. The rainstorm night extended longer. Unexpectedly, a thump on the entryway frightened him. He figured somebody could have been caoutside, oaked in downpour. Once more, the thump came back. Then, at that point, a recognizable voice called, "Asad, it's Noni, open the entryway, I'm getting wet."

"Asad asked, 'What are you doing here so late?'"

"I had gone to pick mangoes from the tree," Noni answered. "Be that as it may, the downpour began, and I was unable to return. For what reason didn't you call prior assuming you were outside?"

"I figured the downpour would stop," she made sense of, as yet remaining outside.

Asad had as of late come to this house. He was a fourth-year understudy at the college, and since his house was a long way from the school, he remained here as a housing ace. Promptly in the mornings, he instructed classes to more youthful understudies, and at night, he assisted understudies with their examinations. Noni's family was a piece famous for their way of behaving. She was consistently naughty, making issues at home. In spite of her fairly wild way of behaving, she could ride a bike, swim in the lake, and even furrow the fields. Noni's uncles were deep rooted in the town, with one working in a bank and the other being a previous director. Her mom had died when she was youthful, so she had grown up ruined by her uncles and aunties.

Asad had been mindful about staying away from Noni because of her coquettish nature, yet this evening, the situation were unique. A wavering grasped him — imagine a scenario in which somebody saw her in his room. She would be considered seriously, particularly in such a blustery evening. He would have rather not opened the entryway, however at that point he pondered Noni becoming ill from the downpour, so he hesitantly opened the entryway for her.

As Noni entered, the room loaded up with a sweet, solid scent. Asad was shocked — regardless of the weighty downpour outside, Noni didn't appear to be wet by any means. Her garments were totally dry. He was unable to comprehend how it was conceivable. Noni plunked down on the seat close to Asad's review table. After a snapshot of quiet, Asad inquired, "For what reason did you come so late, knowing the tempest outside?"

Noni grinned and answered nonchalantly, "You see nothing. I really wanted the mangoes first, or, more than likely my aunties would take them all. I need to start off late consistently, so when I get up, all the mangoes will be no more."

She then, at that point, inquired, "However shouldn't something be said about you? You can go anyplace, correct? You have free access."

"Indeed, however who needs to raise hell superfluously?" Asad answered.

Noni sat easily, as yet attempting to prod Asad. Inevitably, the discussion went in a new direction. Noni, who had been very tricky, began discussing Asad's relationship with Sujata. She uncovered that she had some awareness of the roses Asad had once given to Sujata, indicating that there was more between them than Asad had conceded. Asad attempted to deny it, saying there was nothing among him and Sujata, however Noni kept prodding him about his mysterious expressions of warmth. Ultimately, Asad began to feel awkward, uncertain the amount Noni truly knew.

As Noni proceeded, the truth began soaking in for Asad. Noni was not simply prodding him; she appeared to realize more than he suspected. She inconspicuously implied that there was a more profound association among Sujata and Asad than what Asad had let on.

All of a sudden, the Azan from a close by mosque broke the strain. Noni stood up, saying, "It's first light. The downpour has halted. I should go. My grandma is hanging tight for me."

As Asad opened the entryway, he was amazed to find that the downpour had to be sure halted, and the breeze had quieted. He ventured outside, pondering the abnormal discussion he had recently had with Noni. Who was she, truly? Who had some awareness of his mysterious affections for Sujata? Was Noni really the devilish young lady she was by all accounts, or would she say she was something more baffling?

This is a strict interpretation of the first text you gave. Inform me as to whether you'd like me to explain any part further!