Since the morning of the first Baishakh, Dhaka has been floating in a sea of red and white. People walking around, the sound of drums, greetings for the Bengali New Year on the lips. Rabindra Sangeet at the Ramna Batamul, the joyful scene of the Mangal Shobhajatra… Rain and Akash stood somewhere in the midst of that joy.
Rain is a student of the Anthropology Department of Dhaka University. Lively, a lover of poetry, and courageous. On the other hand, Akash, a student of the English Department, dreamed of becoming a writer one day. Two years ago, they first met on this Baishakh—they met while arguing about a small book of poems in front of the Fine Arts. From acquaintance, friendship, and then gradually continuous love.
Akash has made a special plan for this year's Baishakh. He has decided that he will propose to Rain today—to start a new chapter. The two of them are sitting in the banyan tree of Ramna Park. People walking around, a day spent laughin hug and playing, Rain in a red and white saree is like the goddess of spring. But today he seemed a little quiet. Akash looked at Rain and realized that something had happened to him. So Akash did not stay silent and asked, “Why are you so quiet today?”
Rain smiled faintly. Then he said,
“Akash, I will tell you something… but please don’t get angry.” Akash’s smile faded a little.
“Say, I am listening.” Rain paused and said,
“I have received a scholarship to Canada. I am leaving in a month. I will study for a master’s degree… My parents have been asking for it for a long time.” Akash’s face was silent. It was as if he did not understand what to say.
“When did you know?”
“Two weeks ago. I thought I would not tell you… but I could not keep it today.”
Akash quietly took out a small box from his bag. He opened it and showed a small silver ring.
“Before you said you were leaving, I thought I would give this to you. I thought I would tell you today, whether you will be with me for the rest of your life or not…”
Tears came to Rain’s eyes. She said slowly,
“Akash… I could have stayed if I wanted, but my family… they would never accept us. And you know, I am my mother’s only daughter.”
Akash said in a low voice,
“You can’t be more important to anyone than me, Rain.”
Rain laughed and said, “Please don’t do that. I want this day to be remembered, not sadness—let it be color, let it be love.”
Then Rain picked up a piece of blood-red flower and handed it to Akash.
“Keep this flower. My last Baishakh is with you… but not the last love. Love is like eternal spring, isn’t it?”
Rain stood up, slowly disappearing into the crowd.
Akash sat in the banyan tree, that blood-red flower in his hand, and the mist of an unseen future in his eyes. The sound of drums all around, joy… but an indescribable melody of sadness was playing inside him. Along with that melody, Akash seemed to have lost himself somewhere. When he regained consciousness, he found himself in his room and tears started flowing down his eyes as he remembered the rain. But the sky was helpless and thus their deep love faded away with the arrival of Baishakh.
