Chapter 1: Into the world - quick introduction to characters
Ramya and Dilip grew up in a world of expectations. In their small, conservative town, their futures had been decided long before they finished college. They were cousins, their paths intertwined by parents who saw their studious natures as a perfect match.
Ramya was the product of strict girls' colleges—brilliant but sheltered. Dilip, equally academic, had spent his years in boys' colleges, leaving him shy and awkward around women. Despite their traditional upbringing, they shared a modern dream: to escape the confines of the village and build a life abroad.
But reality was expensive for two middle-class scholars.
"We can’t afford to just move," Dilip had whispered during one of their supervised meetings. "We need a bridge. If I get a teaching contract in Canada and you finish your PhD, we’ll be unstoppable."
Fortune seemed to favor them when Dilip secured a three-year contract at a Canadian university. But their parents threw a wrench in the gears. "You go nowhere alone," they declared. "Get married now. Take Ramya with you. We won't risk you finding someone else across the ocean."
Caught between their dreams and their respect for their elders, they surrendered to the wedding.
The Third Night
The wedding festivities were over, but the air in their bedroom felt heavy.
"It’s over, isn't it?" Ramya whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Our plans have collapsed. We’re going to end up stuck here, just like everyone else."
Dilip sat beside her, his voice firm. "No. We’re going to Canada. Both of us."
"How?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears. "I have to finish my PhD here first. You have to go and build a foundation there. How do we explain being apart?"
Dilip was silent for a long time, the gears of his mind turning. "I have a plan. It’s risky, and it won't be easy."
"Tell me."
"We tell our parents I’m taking you with me," Dilip said. "But instead, you go to Chennai. You enroll in the PhD program at the city college. I’ll go to Canada, work, and send the money for your fees. We build our future in parallel, thousands of miles apart."
Ramya gasped. "What if they find out?"
"They won't," Dilip promised, taking her hand. "They rarely leave the village, and they struggle with technology. We can manage the video calls. We can make them believe we are together."
"I'll stay in a hostel," Ramya decided, her resolve hardening. "You build the base in Canada, and I'll build the career here."
Chapter 2: The Terrace Room
A month later, they stood in the sweltering heat of Chennai. The first crack in the plan appeared immediately: the college had no hostel vacancies for PhD students.
Desperate, Dilip called Ramu, a distant acquaintance who worked as a caretaker in a city apartment complex.
"Anna, I need your help," Dilip said, keeping his voice steady. "A relative of mine—a student—needs a place near the college. Do you know of anything?"
"Actually, Dilip," Ramu replied, "there’s a small terrace room in F-Block. It's basic, but the landlord might agree."
To protect their secret, they told no one they were married. Dilip introduced Ramya as a distant relative. The landlord was strict: "No men allowed on the terrace. If I see a boy, she’s out."
A Bitter-Sweet Goodbye
They moved her things into the tiny room—a single space with a small kitchenette and a bathroom. It was a far cry from a family home, but it was their gateway to freedom.
As the sun set on their final days together, the weight of their innocence hung between them. On their wedding night, they had been like children. Dilip remembered the soft click of the light switch, the way Ramya’s breath caught as he helped her untie her saree. They hadn't known the mechanics of intimacy, only the warmth of skin against skin and the sting of "hickeys" left as marks of a brand-new devotion. They were pure, fueled by a romance that didn't need experience to be felt.
Now, Dilip stayed across the way in G-Block with Ramu and Raj, the building’s plumber.
"Stay as long as you need, Dilip," Ramu said, pointing to the top of a bunk bed. "This is Raj. We handle the maintenance here. The security guards handle the rest."
"Thanks, Anna," Dilip said, his heart aching. "I leave for the airport in two days."
"Did that girl get settled in the other block?" Ramu asked casually.
Dilip looked out the window. Fifty meters away, he could see the light in Ramya's window. "No I think she didn't come here. I haven't heard."
That night, the sounds of the city were harsh. Ramya lay on her thin mattress, the silence of the room echoing her loneliness.
The air in the G-Block terrace room was thick with the smell of kerosene and Raj’s signature spicy dried-fish curry. They sat on the floor around a newspaper spread out like a tablecloth.
Ramu scooped a handful of rice, his eyes drifting toward the window that faced F-Block.
"Did you see the new tenant in the F-Block terrace?" Ramu asked, gesturing with a drumstick. "She moved in yesterday. High-class girl, looks like. Lots of books, very quiet."
Dilip felt a bolt of electricity run down his spine. He kept his eyes fixed on his plate, carefully mixing his rice to hide his shaking hands.
"Oh? I hadn't noticed," Dilip lied, his voice sounding thin to his own ears.
"She’s a beauty, but looks a bit lost," Raj added, leaning back against the wall. "I saw her struggling with a heavy water can earlier. I almost went over to help, but she left already.
Ramu laughed, a deep, raspy sound. A girl like that, alone in the city... she’s like a target. I wonder who her family is. They must be brave to let her stay in a terrace room by herself."
The Near Miss
Dilip swallowed a lump of dry rice. He wanted to scream, “She’s my wife! I’m the one who put her there!” Instead, he forced a casual shrug.
"Probably just another student," Dilip said. "Chennai is full of them."
"True," Ramu agreed, "but most stay in hostels. This one... she looks like she’s hiding from something. She doesn't even come out to the railing to look at the view. She just stays inside, light on until 2:00 AM."
Dilip’s heart ached. He knew why she stayed inside—she was terrified of being seen, and even more terrified of being alone. He knew that light stayed on because Ramya was afraid of the dark.
"Anyway," Raj said, pointing his spoon at Dilip. "You’re lucky, Thambi (little brother). You’re heading to Canada. No terrace rooms, no leaking pipes. Just snow and big buildings. You won't have to worry about local gossip like we do."
Dilip looked at the two men. They were good people, but they were strangers. He was leaving the person he loved most in the world just a stone's throw away, and he couldn't even admit he knew her name.
A Silent Communication
After dinner, while Ramu and Raj were busy arguing over a cricket match, Dilip stepped out onto the balcony.
The night was humid. He looked across the gap. Ramya was standing by her window, her silhouette visible against the yellow light of the room. She was looking toward G-Block, searching for him.
He didn't wave. He didn't call out. He just stood there in the shadows, a silent guardian, watching his wife settle into a life of secrecy while his roommates joked about the "mysterious girl" next door.
A new life for the innocent village couple is about to begin..
Ramya and Dilip grew up in a world of expectations. In their small, conservative town, their futures had been decided long before they finished college. They were cousins, their paths intertwined by parents who saw their studious natures as a perfect match.
Ramya was the product of strict girls' colleges—brilliant but sheltered. Dilip, equally academic, had spent his years in boys' colleges, leaving him shy and awkward around women. Despite their traditional upbringing, they shared a modern dream: to escape the confines of the village and build a life abroad.
But reality was expensive for two middle-class scholars.
"We can’t afford to just move," Dilip had whispered during one of their supervised meetings. "We need a bridge. If I get a teaching contract in Canada and you finish your PhD, we’ll be unstoppable."
Fortune seemed to favor them when Dilip secured a three-year contract at a Canadian university. But their parents threw a wrench in the gears. "You go nowhere alone," they declared. "Get married now. Take Ramya with you. We won't risk you finding someone else across the ocean."
Caught between their dreams and their respect for their elders, they surrendered to the wedding.
The Third Night
The wedding festivities were over, but the air in their bedroom felt heavy.
"It’s over, isn't it?" Ramya whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Our plans have collapsed. We’re going to end up stuck here, just like everyone else."
Dilip sat beside her, his voice firm. "No. We’re going to Canada. Both of us."
"How?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears. "I have to finish my PhD here first. You have to go and build a foundation there. How do we explain being apart?"
Dilip was silent for a long time, the gears of his mind turning. "I have a plan. It’s risky, and it won't be easy."
"Tell me."
"We tell our parents I’m taking you with me," Dilip said. "But instead, you go to Chennai. You enroll in the PhD program at the city college. I’ll go to Canada, work, and send the money for your fees. We build our future in parallel, thousands of miles apart."
Ramya gasped. "What if they find out?"
"They won't," Dilip promised, taking her hand. "They rarely leave the village, and they struggle with technology. We can manage the video calls. We can make them believe we are together."
"I'll stay in a hostel," Ramya decided, her resolve hardening. "You build the base in Canada, and I'll build the career here."
Chapter 2: The Terrace Room
A month later, they stood in the sweltering heat of Chennai. The first crack in the plan appeared immediately: the college had no hostel vacancies for PhD students.
Desperate, Dilip called Ramu, a distant acquaintance who worked as a caretaker in a city apartment complex.
"Anna, I need your help," Dilip said, keeping his voice steady. "A relative of mine—a student—needs a place near the college. Do you know of anything?"
"Actually, Dilip," Ramu replied, "there’s a small terrace room in F-Block. It's basic, but the landlord might agree."
To protect their secret, they told no one they were married. Dilip introduced Ramya as a distant relative. The landlord was strict: "No men allowed on the terrace. If I see a boy, she’s out."
A Bitter-Sweet Goodbye
They moved her things into the tiny room—a single space with a small kitchenette and a bathroom. It was a far cry from a family home, but it was their gateway to freedom.
As the sun set on their final days together, the weight of their innocence hung between them. On their wedding night, they had been like children. Dilip remembered the soft click of the light switch, the way Ramya’s breath caught as he helped her untie her saree. They hadn't known the mechanics of intimacy, only the warmth of skin against skin and the sting of "hickeys" left as marks of a brand-new devotion. They were pure, fueled by a romance that didn't need experience to be felt.
Now, Dilip stayed across the way in G-Block with Ramu and Raj, the building’s plumber.
"Stay as long as you need, Dilip," Ramu said, pointing to the top of a bunk bed. "This is Raj. We handle the maintenance here. The security guards handle the rest."
"Thanks, Anna," Dilip said, his heart aching. "I leave for the airport in two days."
"Did that girl get settled in the other block?" Ramu asked casually.
Dilip looked out the window. Fifty meters away, he could see the light in Ramya's window. "No I think she didn't come here. I haven't heard."
That night, the sounds of the city were harsh. Ramya lay on her thin mattress, the silence of the room echoing her loneliness.
The air in the G-Block terrace room was thick with the smell of kerosene and Raj’s signature spicy dried-fish curry. They sat on the floor around a newspaper spread out like a tablecloth.
Ramu scooped a handful of rice, his eyes drifting toward the window that faced F-Block.
"Did you see the new tenant in the F-Block terrace?" Ramu asked, gesturing with a drumstick. "She moved in yesterday. High-class girl, looks like. Lots of books, very quiet."
Dilip felt a bolt of electricity run down his spine. He kept his eyes fixed on his plate, carefully mixing his rice to hide his shaking hands.
"Oh? I hadn't noticed," Dilip lied, his voice sounding thin to his own ears.
"She’s a beauty, but looks a bit lost," Raj added, leaning back against the wall. "I saw her struggling with a heavy water can earlier. I almost went over to help, but she left already.
Ramu laughed, a deep, raspy sound. A girl like that, alone in the city... she’s like a target. I wonder who her family is. They must be brave to let her stay in a terrace room by herself."
The Near Miss
Dilip swallowed a lump of dry rice. He wanted to scream, “She’s my wife! I’m the one who put her there!” Instead, he forced a casual shrug.
"Probably just another student," Dilip said. "Chennai is full of them."
"True," Ramu agreed, "but most stay in hostels. This one... she looks like she’s hiding from something. She doesn't even come out to the railing to look at the view. She just stays inside, light on until 2:00 AM."
Dilip’s heart ached. He knew why she stayed inside—she was terrified of being seen, and even more terrified of being alone. He knew that light stayed on because Ramya was afraid of the dark.
"Anyway," Raj said, pointing his spoon at Dilip. "You’re lucky, Thambi (little brother). You’re heading to Canada. No terrace rooms, no leaking pipes. Just snow and big buildings. You won't have to worry about local gossip like we do."
Dilip looked at the two men. They were good people, but they were strangers. He was leaving the person he loved most in the world just a stone's throw away, and he couldn't even admit he knew her name.
A Silent Communication
After dinner, while Ramu and Raj were busy arguing over a cricket match, Dilip stepped out onto the balcony.
The night was humid. He looked across the gap. Ramya was standing by her window, her silhouette visible against the yellow light of the room. She was looking toward G-Block, searching for him.
He didn't wave. He didn't call out. He just stood there in the shadows, a silent guardian, watching his wife settle into a life of secrecy while his roommates joked about the "mysterious girl" next door.
A new life for the innocent village couple is about to begin..
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