Like the pristine waters of the Ganges, time flowed on without pause. It carried away countless memories, unfinished relationships, moments of quiet sweetness, and wounds that ran deep. Behind him lay a long journey marked by hardship and struggle, yet it was those very trials that had shaped Arjun into the man he had become—one who could now step fearlessly toward the future.
"Those who sit back and rely on fate never make history—and I want to make history."
The words Arjun had spoken years ago echoed in his mind once again. He might not have made history, but through his patience, his struggles, and his unwavering faith, he had certainly built a life he could truly be proud of.
Slowly, time painted everyone's life with new colors. The birth of little Myra to Ranjana and Sudhanshu brought fresh joy to both families. It was Arjun who had chosen her name, and true to it, Myra brought good fortune into their lives. Laughter once again filled the house, and even the emptiness in Mother's eyes gave way to warmth and happiness.
Arjun never allowed adversity to dictate the course of his life. Instead, he turned every setback into a reason to strive harder. Nearly eighteen months of relentless dedication, discipline, and unwavering determination finally bore fruit when he cleared the highly competitive SBI Probationary Officer examination with distinction.
His appointment eventually took him to Prayag and Hyderabad, marking the beginning of a promising new chapter in his professional life. Yet, despite achieving the dream he had worked so hard for, he never spoke of it to Kavya. He never wished his position, success, or social standing to influence her choice. If she ever returned, he wanted her to choose the same Arjun she had once loved—not the officer he had become, but the man whose faith in her had never wavered.
Yet, deep within his heart, he never stopped waiting for her return.
The last time Arjun spoke to Kavya was after his first posting had ended, when he had returned to Nabadwip on leave. Before leaving for Hyderabad, he spent the entire months of October and November in Nabadwip, waiting for Kavya to return from Banaras one last time.
Every evening in Mayapur, about an hour before the evening aarti at the ISKCON temple, Arjun would arrive at the river ghat. The locals called him the madman. No one there knew his real name.
He was always the first to light a earthen diya on the ghat. Every day, even before the temple priest arrived, he would light as many earthen diyas as the lunar date called for. It was neither a ritual nor a show of devotion. It was an expression of love, hope, and unwavering faith that he had carried in his heart for years.
He always carried a small brass platter with him. It held the required number of earthen diyas for the day, a little mustard oil, and a few cotton wicks. With quiet devotion, he prepared each diya with loving care before placing the platter on the lowest step of the ghat, where the gentle waters of the Ganges would sometimes rise just enough to softly kiss its edge.
After lighting the diyas, he would stand silently, his eyes fixed on the ever-flowing waters of Mother Bhagirathi, as though he were waiting for a loved one who had long been separated from him or simply gazing at her from afar. On his way back, he would stop at the ISKCON temple, bow his head in reverence, and then quietly make his way home.
One evening, as Arjun was lighting the diyas, the temple priest finally asked, "My son, you have never missed a single day. Tell me, for whom do you light these diyas?"
With a gentle smile, he would reply, "For my breath, Priest... for the reason I keep living."
Everyone knew he was waiting for someone. Four years earlier, Kavya had left for Banaras. Before she departed, she had looked at Arjun and said, "Arjun, wait for me. One day, I will surely return."
From that day on, Arjun waited for her with unshakable faith, believing that one day she would return and keep the promise she had made to him.
He never realized how those four years slipped away. Now, he often found himself thinking, "At last, I have become worthy of her. But does she still remember the promise she made... or have I been holding on to nothing more than an illusion?
I have come here only to test the strength of my own faith."
In the beginning, they spoke every day. Gradually, their conversations faded into occasional text messages. As time passed, even those were reduced to little more than greetings exchanged on festivals and special occasions. Eventually, they became so absorbed in their own lives and responsibilities that silence quietly took the place of words.
Arjun surrendered every desire, every disappointment, and every restless emotion of his heart at the sacred feet of Mother Bhagirathi, leaving the rest to her divine grace.
In a voice filled with affection, the priest said, "My son, have you lost your senses?
How long will you keep waiting for her?"
A faint smile touched Arjun's lips as he replied, "I don't know how long this wait will last. But if she doesn't return by Dev Deepawali in the holy month of Kartik this year, perhaps my faith will finally break... and maybe my search will come to an end."
After a few moments of silence, he spoke again.
"I light a diya on this ghat every single day so that my faith in love and in the people I hold dear never fades. Mother Bhagirathi never lets my faith waver. As long as this diya continues to burn, the hope of her return will remain alive within my heart."
Looking at the flowing waters of the Ganges, he said softly, "This diya is more than a flame fed by oil and clay. It is the light of hope that has held my hand all these years. It is this light that shows me the way... and keeps me from losing my path."
Kavya had become completely absorbed in publishing her research papers, proofreading her thesis, and completing its final draft. The relentless demands of her academic journey gradually distanced her from everyone she loved. She had not even been able to visit home the previous year.
Her only goal was to submit her thesis before Kartik, as she had been offered a remarkable opportunity to join the Forensic Science Department at CCMB, Hyderabad, as a Research Associate—an opportunity she was determined not to lose at any cost.
In the midst of that relentless pursuit, her relationship with Arjun had quietly slipped into the background.
It was never a consequence of fading love, but of overwhelming responsibilities and circumstances beyond her control.
She remained as steadfast in her promises as she had always been. Yet the crushing pressure of research and the unyielding demands of her supervisor left her with neither the time nor the freedom to return to her hometown.
It was this prolonged silence, more than anything else, that became the source of Arjun's quiet sorrow and endless waiting.
He was eagerly waiting for the four years to come to an end, though a quiet sense of disappointment had begun to creep into his heart. Even so, he refused to let his faith waver and continued to draw strength from his devotion.
Whether it rained heavily, fierce storms swept through, or the Ganges was in full spate, Arjun never failed to visit the river for darshan and to offer a floating diya. The previous year, a high fever had kept him away for five consecutive days. On the fifth day, despite his trembling legs and overwhelming weakness, he somehow made his way to the ghat and lit a lamp before setting it afloat on the sacred river.
As the flame flickered to life, a single thought crossed his mind: "If I don't light a diya today, she'll think I've finally given up."
The very next moment, he whispered to himself, "I may surrender, but my heart simply refuses to."
The auspicious occasion of Dev Deepawali had finally arrived, yet there was still no sign of Kavya. The same restlessness and doubt that had troubled Arjun four years earlier quietly returned, settling deep within his heart.
"What if Kavya has considered me unworthy and turned away from me?"
The thought gnawed at his heart again and again.
He had never told Kavya about his job. Perhaps he did not want to influence her decision in any way. Deep down, he wanted to know whether time had changed her, or whether her love was still as steadfast and unwavering as it had once been.
He was eagerly waiting for the four years to come to an end, though a quiet sense of disappointment had begun to creep into his heart. Even so, he refused to let his faith waver and continued to draw strength from his devotion.
Lost in this tangle of thoughts, Arjun quietly took the brass platter from the basket. With a heavy heart, he began arranging the earthen diyas one by one with loving care, preparing them for the sacred offering to the Ganges.
Just then, a sweet, achingly familiar voice melted into his ears like honey.
"Wait, Arjun...!"
"I've come back... this time, forever. I've secured our future as well. At last, I'm capable of making my own life's decisions. You'll never have to wait for me again."
Smiling through eyes filled with unspoken emotions, Kavya gently took his hand.
For a few long moments, Arjun could do nothing but gaze at her. It was as if he could not believe that the woman for whom he had lit countless diyas over the years was truly standing before him.
Then a radiant smile spread across Arjun's face. At that very moment, it felt as though every diya on the ghat had begun to glow a little brighter, and the silent years of waiting had finally found their destination.
This time, Arjun did not merely hold it—he entwined his fingers with hers, holding on with complete faith. There was no fear anymore, no guilt, and no lingering resentment toward the past. What had been lost would forever live on in memory, but what he had found again had become the greatest treasure of his life.
He never looked back. Not because he had forgotten his past, but because he had finally accepted it. Some relationships are not meant to last a lifetime; they come into our lives to teach us how to live. Some people are not destined to become our destination, yet they give us the courage to reach it.
Kavya was beside him not merely in body, but in every unfinished moment that time had once stolen from them.
And somewhere, beneath the tranquil sky of memory, Shreya remained as well not as a lingering regret, but as a silent prayer that was never spoken aloud, yet one that had changed Arjun's life forever.
Life had taken so much away from him. Yet, in the end, it returned what he had needed most—his self-respect, the trust of those he loved, and the courage to move forward.
Perhaps that is life's eternal truth: destiny may test us, time may transform us, and circumstances may try to break us; but true love, unwavering faith, and unyielding patience ultimately lead us back to ourselves.
And thus, this was not the end of a love story...
It was the beginning of a journey shared by two souls, who would now walk through every season of life hand in hand.
"For some love stories are never truly told in words...
They are lived, cherished, and fulfilled over a lifetime."
THE END
© Copyright Pushpa Chaturvedi
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