Slide 29
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Her parents looked at her, puzzled. “What is it, Riya?” her father asked, concern creasing his brow.
“It’s about Arun,” she began, glancing at him for support. “We’re in love, and we want to build our lives together.”
The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Her mother exchanged glances with her father, the unspoken weight of tradition hanging heavily over them. “Riya, this isn’t how things are done,” her father said finally. “You know our values, our expectations.”
Arun spoke up, his voice firm yet respectful. “Sir, I respect your traditions, but Riya and I have been best friends for years. We’ve shared our dreams, our struggles. We believe in each other.”
Her mother’s voice broke through the silence, laced with concern. “But what about security? What about your futures?”
“We’ve thought about it,” Riya replied, her voice quivering but determined. “We want to pursue our dreams together, not apart. We’ll support each other in our endeavors.”
Riya’s father shook his head, disappointment clouding his features. “You’re being naive, Riya. Love is important, but it isn’t everything. You need stability.”
The argument spiraled, each point met with counterpoints, voices rising in frustration. Riya felt her resolve waver under the weight of her parents’ expectations. In that moment of chaos, she turned to Arun, seeking strength in his gaze. He squeezed her hand, grounding her amidst the storm.
As the rain continued to pour, a thought struck Riya. “What if we take a leap of faith?” she said, her voice rising above the din. “We could live together for a while. See how we fare, together. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll reconsider. But I believe in us.”
Her parents paused, considering her words. The room was silent except for the sound of rain against the roof, a rhythmic reminder of their resolve.
After what felt like an eternity, her father finally spoke. “This is unconventional, Riya, but… if you truly believe in this, then we will support your decision. But understand, you will be responsible for whatever happens.”
Riya felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as relief washed over her. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam , India
08/12/24
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Dear Readers
For the last few months , I was writing my views on leadership through a few slides ,bringing out the qualities of a leader .
Now, I am getting several messages why I write only Leaders . Managers also doing such things ?
What I see from my personal experience is that there are certain differences between the two and someday , I may come with detailed write ups , may in a format of book ( not yet decided) on these two different roles .
In a nutshell , I can say
“The terms “leader” and “manager” are often used interchangeably in both organizational and societal contexts. However, they represent two distinct approaches to guiding, influencing, and achieving goals within a group or organization. Both roles are crucial, yet they differ in their focus, skill sets, and the impact they create.“
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam , India
7/12/2024
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INSTAGRAM : @rajatchandrasarmah5
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “An arranged marriage. A girl from the city—someone who can further our family’s status.”
The news hit Riya like a storm. She had never considered that their bond would be tested by societal expectations. “What do you want, Arun?” she asked, her voice trembling.
He looked away, the conflict evident in his expression. “I want to be a good son, but I don’t know if I can do it at the cost of my happiness.”
Riya’s thoughts raced. She remembered their childhood promises, the dreams of traveling together, exploring the world beyond their small village. “What if we chose our paths?” she suggested, emboldened by her longing. “We could stand up to them, Arun. We can carve our own future.”
But he looked down, grappling with the weight of tradition. “Riya, it’s not that simple. Our families… they won’t understand.”
As the rain began to fall, the rhythm of the droplets matched the thumping of her heart. She stepped closer, the cold air charged with electricity. “But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t bear the thought of watching you marry someone else.”
Arun’s eyes searched hers, and in that moment, she saw the flicker of hope mixed with fear. “What if we tried to convince them?” he proposed tentatively. “What if we show them that we are strong enough to make our own choices?”
The idea was daunting yet exhilarating. Riya felt a surge of determination. They would confront their families, together. They would fight for their love and dreams.
As the monsoon deepened, Riya and Arun devised a plan to meet their families. They gathered evidence of their shared history, the foundation of their relationship—a scrapbook filled with memories of their childhood, each page a testament to their bond. They spent hours discussing how to present their case, crafting arguments that would highlight their commitment to each other while acknowledging their families’ values.
Finally, the day arrived. The rain fell heavily, casting a somber yet hopeful backdrop for their confrontation. Riya’s heart raced as she stood before her parents, Arun at her side. “We need to talk,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within her.( To be continued)
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati Assam , India
06/12/2024
SLIDE -28
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Instagram : @rajatchandrasarmah5
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Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah5
As the final monsoon approached, the village of Anandpur felt a palpable shift in the air. The normally vibrant streets, bustling with life, lay quiet, shadows stretching long against the horizon. For Riya, the season brought a bittersweet mix of memories and anticipations. She could hear the whispers of the raindrops on her window, a melody of longing and nostalgia that danced in her heart.
Riya had always loved the monsoon, not just for the rain, but for the emotions it stirred within her. This year, however, it felt different. As she gazed out at the darkening clouds, a sense of urgency tugged at her soul. She was twenty-four, and her parents had begun to apply pressure for her to marry. They envisioned a suitable match—someone established, respectable. But Riya’s heart had chosen a different path.
Her thoughts drifted to Arun, her childhood friend, who had become her confidant and anchor. They had spent countless evenings under the Neem tree near the river, sharing dreams and secrets, laughing and sometimes crying. As children, they promised to always stand by each other, yet the world around them had begun to impose its expectations. Arun, too, felt the weight of familial duty pressing down upon him.
One evening, with the scent of wet earth filling the air, Riya met Arun by their beloved Neem tree. He was sketching in his notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration. “What are you drawing?” she asked, peering over his shoulder. The image was a landscape—a blend of rain-soaked fields and distant hills, but Riya’s heart sank at the thought of what was missing. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, wishing he would draw the future they had once envisioned together.
Arun smiled, but his eyes reflected a turmoil she recognized all too well. “I’m trying to capture the monsoon’s essence,” he replied, closing his notebook with a sigh. “But it feels like a race against time. My parents want me to settle down. They have someone in mind.”
Riya’s heart sank. “You too?”( To be continued)
RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI , ASSAM , INDIA
02/12/24
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The rain continued to play its symphony as Ananya and Aman began to rediscover each other. They started with coffee meetings that turned into long walks, where they talked about everything they had missed in each other’s lives. Aman opened up about his failed marriage, while Ananya shared her fears of trusting him again.
Their journey wasn’t without challenges. Ananya struggled with her insecurities, and Aman fought to prove his commitment. But slowly, love began to heal what time couldn’t.
One evening, as they stood by the lake, watching the rain ripple the water, Aman held her hand.
“Ananya,” he said, his voice steady, “I can’t change the past, but I want to build a future with you. Will you give me that chance?”
Tears welled in her eyes, but this time, they weren’t of pain.
“Yes, Aman,” she whispered. “But it won’t be easy.”
“I don’t want easy,” he replied. “I want you.”
The rain poured down, soaking them to the bone, but neither of them cared. Under the canopy of the stormy sky, they sealed their promise with a kiss—a kiss that spoke of forgiveness, love, and hope
Epilogue
Years later, on a rainy evening, Aman and Ananya sat by the same café where they had met. This time, their fingers were intertwined, their hearts beating in harmony. The rain no longer carried the echoes of pain; it sang a melody of second chances.
Ananya smiled at Aman, the love in her eyes brighter than ever.
“Funny how the rain always knew our story,” she said.
“And now,” Aman replied, “it writes the happy ending we deserve.”( End)
RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI , ASSAM , INDIA
01/12/24
