Beneath the Old Banyan Tree

 

Beneath the Old Banyan Tree

It was the first day of monsoon in the small town of Bhilwara. The earthy fragrance of wet soil lingered in the air as Aarav walked through the narrow lanes, his umbrella swaying carelessly in his hand. He had just returned from the city after three years of studying engineering, yet his heart wasn’t stirred by the modern skyline he had left behind—it was pulled back here, to where everything had begun.

And it began beneath the old banyan tree.

That was where he had first met Meera, the quiet girl who lived next door. They had grown up together, sharing stories, secrets, and stolen glances. Over time, friendship had blossomed into something deeper, something they had never dared to name. When Aarav left for the city, promises hung in the air between them—unspoken, fragile, yet powerful.

Now, as he walked past the banyan tree, memories washed over him like the rain. And there she was. Meera, standing under its sprawling roots, her dupatta caught lightly in the breeze, raindrops glistening on her hair. She hadn’t changed much—still the same gentle eyes, the same soft smile.

“You came back,” she said softly, her voice a mix of relief and hesitation.

Aarav smiled, though his heart pounded. “I had to. This tree would have scolded me if I stayed away any longer.”

She laughed lightly, the sound warming him more than the monsoon air. But beneath her smile, Aarav noticed something—distance, a shadow in her gaze.

They sat under the tree, just as they had countless times before, letting the rain fall around them. Silence stretched, comfortable yet heavy. Finally, Meera spoke. “You must have seen so much in the city. New people, new life. You must have changed.”

Aarav shook his head. “Maybe I’ve changed a little. But the city never gave me what I left here. It never gave me… you.”

Her breath caught, and she looked away. “Aarav, things aren’t the same anymore.”

His chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, her fingers twisting the edge of her dupatta. “My parents… they’ve fixed my marriage. The boy is from Jaipur. Educated, stable, everything a family wants. It’s happening in two months.”

The words struck Aarav like thunder. He stared at her, his voice trembling. “And what do you want, Meera?”

Her eyes glistened, but she held his gaze. “I wanted us. I wanted to wait for you. But three years is a long time, Aarav. Everyone thought you’d forget me, that you’d find someone better. I fought them for as long as I could, but… I’m tired.”

Aarav reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. “Meera, listen to me. I never forgot you. Not for a single day. Every exam, every success, every lonely night—I carried you with me. You are not someone I can replace.”

Her tears fell freely now, mingling with the rain. “But what can we do? Our families won’t agree. They’ll say you’re just starting your career, that you can’t provide stability.”

“Then let me prove them wrong,” Aarav said, determination hardening his voice. “Give me a chance, Meera. If I let you go now, I’ll regret it all my life.”

For a moment, silence hung between them. The storm rumbled in the distance, as if waiting for her reply.

Meera closed her eyes, her heart torn between duty and desire. She had always been the obedient daughter, never questioning her parents’ decisions. But sitting there, beneath the tree that had witnessed their childhood, their laughter, and their love, something shifted.

When she opened her eyes, there was resolve in them. “If you’re truly ready to fight, Aarav… then so am I. I don’t want to marry someone else while my heart belongs to you.”

Relief washed over him, and he pulled her into his arms. For the first time in years, the distance between them dissolved.

The banyan tree stood tall above them, its roots entwined like two souls destined to be together. The rain poured harder, but neither cared. They had chosen love over fear, courage over silence.

The battle with their families was still ahead—arguments, tears, perhaps rejection. But in that moment, they weren’t afraid. Because sometimes love wasn’t about waiting for the perfect time or permission—it was about holding on, despite the storm.

And beneath the old banyan tree, Aarav and Meera promised themselves one thing: they would fight for their love, no matter how fierce the rain.