“The Love That Never Faded — My Untold Story ”
1994 Words
Hello, my name is Swehta, and I belong to a, middle-class family. I’m about to complete my graduation, but today I want to share a story that will forever stay close to my heart — the story of my first love.
It all began when I was in Class 12, a time full of dreams, innocence, and emotions I barely understood. One ordinary day in class, feeling a little bored, I decided to open Snapchat. That’s when I received a friend request from a stranger named Rohan.
He surprised me by proposing right there in the chat. At first, I laughed it off, thinking it was just a joke. But slowly, our conversations became frequent, and that “joke” started turning into something real. I began to feel a strange connection with him — something warm, something beautiful.
Rohan was a kind-hearted and cultured boy, and day by day, our bond grew stronger. Our conversations never seemed to end; every day felt new and exciting with him. He made my world brighter, filling it with colors I had never known before. Being with him felt like having all the happiness in the world.
Eventually, our love story reached a point where I felt it was time to tell my family about him. My mother already had an idea but stayed quiet at first. My father liked Rohan because he was calm, mature, and respectful — but my mother saw one “flaw” in him — his caste.
Rohan was Nepali, and I was Bihari. For my mother, that difference was a wall that could never be crossed. She believed our traditions and cultures would never match.
I thought love should matter more than caste, but for her, it was everything. She insisted I marry someone from our own community. I tried to explain to her that Rohan wasn’t just a good person — he was the one who stood by me through every smile and tear.
One day, I finally gathered the courage to speak my heart. I told her,
> “Maa, Rohan never cared about caste. He loved me for who I am, not where I come from. Isn’t that what truly matters?”
But she thought it was just a childish obsession that would fade with time. She said,
> “Stop meeting that boy, Swehta. This relationship is not right for you. You’ll find better matches in your own caste.”
That night, I cried like never before. It felt like my whole world had shattered. Rohan was heartbroken too. He tried to comfort me, saying,
“No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you. Just don’t lose hope.”
But deep down, we both knew things would never be the same.
Days passed, and his absence became an ache I couldn’t escape. I wanted to be with him, but my family’s honor and their dreams kept holding me back. Sometimes I wondered if sacrificing love was the only way to prove my loyalty to my family. Yet living without him felt like losing a part of my soul.
Even today, when I think of Rohan, a quiet pain stirs inside me — a reminder of a love that was pure, deep, and eternal… but never meant to be.
.”Suddenly, like a ray of hope, a spark returned to my life.
That morning, when I woke up half-asleep and looked at my phone, I saw a message from Rohan.
At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought maybe I was seeing things—but it was true.
Rohan had really messaged me.
I opened the message, and my heartbeat quickened.
He had written, “Can you meet me? I’ll be waiting for you at Naroji Park. There’s something important I need to talk about.”
Reading that made my heart race even faster.
On one hand, I was happy—after such a long time, Rohan wanted to meet me again.
But a small doubt crept in too: “Why does he suddenly want to meet today?”
A thousand questions started running through my mind,
but my heart whispered that I shouldn’t miss this chance.
Maybe our incomplete story was about to take a new turn.
I couldn’t wait for the day to pass. My heart was full of hope and a little nervousness too.
I dressed simply, got ready, and left.
Inside, I carried a quiet wish—that something good would happen today,
and maybe the dreams we once shared could finally come true.
When I reached Naroji Park, everything around was calm and silent.
I started looking around to spot him, and then I saw him—
standing by a tree, looking at me from a distance.
There was a strange sadness on his face that I had never seen before.
As I walked toward him, he tried to smile,
but the sorrow in his eyes was something I could feel deeply.
“Why did you call me here, Rohan?” I asked softly.
He paused for a moment and said,
“Swehta, I needed to tell you something important… and I couldn’t say it over the phone.”
There was a pain in his voice that I had never heard before.
He told me that his family had placed certain responsibilities on him,
and he couldn’t go against their wishes.
His parents had their own dreams for him,
and he was willing to do anything for his mother.
Rohan said,
“Swehta, I want you in my life,
but sometimes, things are just not in our hands.
You mean the world to me, and I’ll always love you—
but maybe now is the time for me to say goodbye.”
His words broke my heart.
I couldn’t understand what to say—
I just stood there, staring at him,
as if searching for an answer in his eyes.
For me, that moment was nothing less than a shock.
It felt like my entire world had fallen apart.
I kept wondering—why does love have to go through such difficult tests?
Why do so many obstacles come between two people who truly care?
Rohan looked at me one last time and said,
“Swehta, I just want you to stay happy and move forward in life.
Your smiling face is everything to me.”
Those words left a deep wound in my heart.
I wanted to say something, but my voice failed me, and I remained silent.
After that moment, our paths separated.
I walked away, but my steps felt heavy—
as if I was leaving all my dreams behind in that park.
That day, that moment, stayed in my heart forever as a memory.
Even today, sometimes I remember that moment—
when Rohan met me in Naroji Park and we said goodbye to our love.
Maybe our story remained unfinished,
but the depth of that love will always stay alive in my heart. ❤️
It had been three months since Rohan and I had parted ways.
Those three months became the most difficult time of my life.
Every single day, I tried to convince my heart that Rohan was no longer a part of my life,
but my heart refused to let go of his memories.
At night, moments spent with him would play before my eyes like a movie —
his laughter, his love, his words — they all kept echoing inside me.
Every moment, I tried to distance myself from him,
but my heart stayed entangled in his thoughts.
One morning, I was sitting in my room trying to focus on my college assignments.
Mom was in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
Suddenly, she called out in a loud voice,
“Swehta! A special invitation has arrived today. Looks like a wedding card!”
I thought it must be some relative’s wedding, so without much thought, I went to her.
When I reached the kitchen, Mom handed me a white and pink wedding card and said excitedly,
“Look, Swehta! See whose invitation it is — your old friend Rohan’s!”
The moment I heard that name, my hands started trembling.
A strange nervousness and sadness surrounded me.
I didn’t know how to react at that moment.
If I could, I would have burst into tears right there,
but in front of my mother, I couldn’t do that.
With shaking hands, I opened the card and began to read the words written on it.
“Invitation to the engagement of Rohan and Anushka.”
As soon as I read those words, it felt like my world shattered again.
My heart broke once more — but this time, the pain was even deeper.
Because that girl wasn’t just anyone — she was my best friend, Anushka.
At that moment, I didn’t know what hurt me more —
the news of Rohan’s engagement or the realization
that my own best friend had betrayed me.
Anushka, who knew everything about me,
to whom I had shared every secret of my heart —
how could she do this to me?
How could she make Rohan hers?
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I tried to control myself.
There was a faint smile on my mother’s face,
as if she finally felt relieved.
She said, “See, Swehta? Now that boy is out of your life.
You should also move on and focus on your studies.”
Hearing her words made my heart ache even more,
but I had no words to explain my pain.
How could she know that while she was telling me to move on,
I was already walking a path filled only with sorrow?
That night, I sat alone in my room, lost in thought.
I asked my heart,
“Why is all this happening to me?
I believed in my love, I trusted my friend —
then why did my world fall apart like this?”
At that moment, I felt as if I had lost in both love and friendship.
For many days, I couldn’t understand this pain within me.
Anushka and I had shared such a deep bond —
we shared every joy and sorrow together.
She was my friend, my confidante,
and in just one moment, she hollowed me out completely.
I had never imagined that one day
my dearest friend would betray me like this.
Did she never think about my feelings?
Did she never see how openly I shared my heart in front of her?
On one side, there was my mother, happy with what she heard,
and on the other side, there was me — suffocating in my own emotions.
Whenever I faced her, she would say,
“You see, Swehta? You should marry within your caste.
Your father was right — that boy was never meant for you.”
But what could I say to her?
How could I tell her about the memories buried deep inside my heart,
the ones that were quietly breaking me from within?
For many days, I kept wondering —
will I ever find true love in my life?
Will I ever be free from the burden on my heart?
Every night, I asked myself the same questions,
and every morning, I woke up with the same pain.
I knew I had to move on,
but my heart wouldn’t let me.
Maybe it was the intoxication of love
that still ran through my veins.
Even today, when I remember that moment,
it feels like it was a dream —
a dream that has become a permanent part of my heart.
Maybe mine was a love story meant to remain incomplete.
Maybe no one will ever be able to take Rohan and Anushka’s place in my life.
But someday, I will try to remove this pain from my heart.
I know that sometimes love remains unfinished,
and in that incompleteness lies the true color of our stories.
to be continued....
- Writer
