This story is about being close, filled with the emotional depth of a relationship and dramatic twists that highlight the complexities of romantic relationships. It is a journey of love, neglect, regret, and realization, reflected through the characters Sparsh and Jenny. Let’s begin this story.

Jenny’s phone rings. She stares at the screen for a moment, then answers in an indifferent tone, 

“What’s up?”

“I’m killing mosquitoes.”

Jenny, with a hint of sarcasm, asks, 

“Did you get a job as a mosquito exterminator?”

Gritting his teeth, Sporsh replies, 

“No, I’m providing public service for free, killing mosquitoes to help the country and society. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure, mosquito killing is definitely a good deed. So many people are getting dengue. You’re doing well. But while doing public service, there’s no need to call anyone. That’s unethical. You keep up with the public service; I’m hanging up now.”

This time, Sporsh lost his temper. 

“Jenny!!”

In a calm, gentle tone, Jenny responds, 

“What?”

“I’ve been sitting under your apartment for an hour. The drain next to me has so many mosquitoes; they’d carry me off if they could. My whole body’s swollen from bites. I’m exhausted from scratching and swatting mosquitoes. I’ve killed 50% of the mosquitoes in your neighborhood, yet you still feel no pity?”

“What do you want? Should I come down and bring you a mosquito coil? Why, don’t you have money on you? Just buy one, and you’ve always got matches. Light a coil and sit tight. Bye.”

“Jenny, Jenny, don’t hang up. You answered my call after an hour. I’ve been standing here forever. Please, just hear me out.”

“Unbelievable! When did I ever tell you to stand there? Just leave. I didn’t say there was a mosquito problem in my area for you to come handle. Did I?”

“Jenny, you know why I’m here. You know how stubborn I am. I won’t leave until you come down.”

“I’m not concerned with your stubbornness anymore. I won’t run to you any longer.”

“Why would you? You’ve got a rich guy now, with a good job, good salary, nice house. Would my small presence be enough? I’m just a simple person.”

With a short sigh and a cold voice, Jenny responds, 

“I wanted that simple person, but he never valued me while he had the chance. He neglected me over and over. I chased after him, just to have a little of his time. He thought I’d go on like that forever, so he never valued me. But times have changed, Jenny has learned to understand what’s good and what’s not—who’s genuine and who’s worth loving.”

“Jenny, don’t say it like that. I loved you then, and I still do.”

“In this city, love is lost every day due to neglect and lack of care.”

“I won’t let my love be lost, Jenny. I love you, and I’ll take care of it from now on.”

**”That’s no longer possible. My father has given the responsibility of caring for me and my love to someone else.”**

“And you accepted it?”

“What else could I do? Should I spend my life waiting for you, hoping you’ll find time for me someday?”

“You made the wrong choice, Jenny.”

“No, after all this time, I’m finally doing the right thing. Don’t call me again. And yes, I won’t be the shameless one calling and bothering you anymore. My turmeric ceremony is tomorrow, and I’m about to apply henna to my hands. Everything’s happening quickly, so I’m very busy. Stop bothering me.”

“Jenny, come down…”

The line disconnected with a beep. Sporsh held the phone to his ear a little longer, staring into space with a blank expression. Could Jenny really ignore him like this? The same girl who used to wait eagerly just to hear him say “hello” didn’t even speak to him now, even when given the chance.

Sporsh put down his phone. He felt a deep emptiness. Her words echoed in his mind: “My turmeric ceremony is tomorrow, and I’m about to apply henna to my hands.” Those words hit hard. Sporsh had loved Jenny and had even dreamed of marrying her. But he never cared for her, never valued her love, never paid attention to her words, and never fulfilled her wishes. Jenny had often pleaded with him to focus on their future, saying, “What will become of us if you don’t get a job? My father won’t agree to our marriage if you remain jobless.” But Sporsh had brushed it off, believing that things would work out. Jenny had threatened to leave many times, but he hadn’t taken it seriously. He thought Jenny would never leave him, that she couldn’t live without him. But now, she had moved on—to a better life.

“Go marry whoever you want. Do you think I lack options? What, you think I’ll cry over you? Annoying, cheap girl. Good that she’s getting married. I won’t have her bothering me anymore.” Sporsh muttered to himself, gritting his teeth in anger, hurling insults at Jenny under his breath.

Sporsh couldn’t sleep all night, without knowing why. Early in the morning, he got ready and left his apartment without telling anyone. He wandered alone on empty streets as dawn broke, and the city gradually came to life. Shops opened, and people hurried off to work. Sporsh stopped in his tracks, his eyes catching a flower stall. A boy of about twelve or thirteen was spraying water over the flowers, arranging garlands of jasmine. On Jenny’s birthday, she had once asked Sporsh for a gift. Sporsh thought she’d want something expensive, but no—she only wanted a jasmine garland. At midnight, this broke, jobless guy had sighed in relief but was also a bit irritated at such a simple gift request. Even if he couldn’t afford a fancy present, he could still give her something better. But the next day, he brought her the garland and met her at the park. It was her birthday, after all, though he would never have gone otherwise.

That day, Sporsh was stunned when he saw her. Jenny had worn a blue saree, adorned herself with bangles, jewelry, kohl, a bindi, lipstick, and had tied her hair up in a bun, smiling a breathtaking smile. Meeting her that day felt special. Suddenly, her smiling face appeared in his mind again. Sporsh bought a jasmine garland and walked towards the university. As he reached the gate, he looked over at the spot under the campus’s jamun tree. That’s where Jenny used to sit, waiting eagerly, looking at the gate—waiting just for him.

As soon as Sporsh arrived, Jenny would rush toward him. But he’d pretend to be busy and go off with his friends. Today, Jenny isn’t there. No one is waiting for him. It feels empty. Sporsh sat under the tree. So many memories fill the university. An hour later, his friends arrived. Seeing him downcast, they asked what was wrong, and Sporsh told them everything.

One of his friends scoffed, 

“Forget her. You’ll find plenty. Just say the word, and today I’ll set you up with someone prettier than Jenny. She’s a characterless girl. She hung around with you all this time, but now she’s marrying some rich guy her father chose? They’re all the same. A fling or two in college, some dates, food, shopping. Once they’re done enjoying, they marry a rich guy picked by Daddy and say, ‘I had no choice; my father forced it on me.’ Pathetic, cheap girl.”

Sporsh couldn’t stand hearing these words. Yesterday, he himself had spoken ill of Jenny, but now, hearing it from someone else, he couldn’t tolerate it. He stood up and walked away. The university felt emptier than ever. Nothing seemed to bring him comfort.

Sporsh had graduated with a master’s last year but was still jobless, spending his days wandering around campus, hanging out with friends, and killing time without a thought for the future. His father sent him money each month, and life went on.

Lying on his bed, scrolling through Facebook, his eyes froze on a photo—two beautiful hands decorated with henna. Jenny was in a white dress, a delicate tikli on her forehead. Her arms extended, laughter spilling out as the picture captured the moment. Sporsh stared at the photo, his eyes brimming with tears. His heart ached. He was losing this girl. In a fit of frustration and despair, he threw his phone. That night, tormented, he called Jenny’s number, but it was turned off. She must be busy with the turmeric ceremony. Every so often, he checked Jenny’s profile, hoping to see a photo of her in a yellow saree, adorned with flower jewelry and turmeric on her cheeks. He stayed up all night, but no photos were posted—she must be really busy. The next morning, still no photos, but by noon, a profile picture appeared of her, resting her cheek on her hand. She was unmistakably dressed as a bride. Sporsh’s heart burned with pain; he was tormented, restless, tears falling from his eyes. Unable to bear it any longer, he ran to Jenny’s house.

Her wedding was at home, the yard filled with people, the car decorated with flowers. He could hear sobs as Jenny, dressed as a bride, hugged her mother tightly and wept. Sporsh tried to catch a glimpse of her face, but he couldn’t see it clearly. He pushed through the crowd, but before he could reach the car, it drove away. Jenny was gone forever. He collapsed to his knees, tears falling silently.

One month later, Sporsh got a job. It was his first day at work. Over the past month, he had struggled to pull himself together. He’d given up those friends who’d distracted him from his life, realizing they had, in part, cost him Jenny. Losing her, he finally understood her true worth, her love for him, how much he needed her. If Jenny had been by his side, his life would have been blissful. He understood it all but was too late. So now he was trying to move on, though he couldn’t forget her.

His first day at work went well. As he walked along the street afterward, his eyes fell on a flower stall. Without much thought, he bought a jasmine garland and held it in his hands, lost in thought. Suddenly, a sweet voice interrupted, 

“Excuse me, mister, might I be the rightful owner of this fragrant jasmine garland?”

Sporsh was utterly taken aback. Turning around, he was even more astonished. Jenny stood there, draped in a black and white saree, smiling that mesmerizing smile. She had a small purse on her shoulder, a bun in her hair, a delicate nose ring, and hands adorned with henna.

Speechless, Sporsh stood, tears flowing down his face. Seeing him cry, Jenny’s smile faded. In a soft voice, she asked, 

“Why are you crying?”

Barely able to speak, Sporsh whispered, 

“Jenny!”

“Yes, it’s me, standing right here in front of you.”

With emotion-laden words, Sporsh asked, 

“Why did you leave? Didn’t it hurt you at all to leave me behind?”

“It didn’t, because I didn’t leave you. I’ve always been with you, and I always will be.”

Jenny reached out, holding Sporsh’s hand in hers, and he shivered at her touch, looking down at their hands in disbelief. In a voice full of surprise, he asked, 

“But how can you be with me? You’re married. You have a husband.”

Jenny chuckled softly, 

“A husband? Where would I get one? I would need to get married first, wouldn’t I?”

Sporsh stood there, dumbfounded. Jenny playfully tapped his head, 

“Oh, you fool! It wasn’t my wedding that day—it was my elder sister’s! Don’t you remember I have an elder sister? Do you think they’d marry me off and leave her behind? Have you lost all sense?”

Sporsh suddenly realized. Of course! Jenny had an older sister who had just graduated as a doctor, while Jenny was still only in her second year of college. Such an educated family wouldn’t rush her into marriage before she finished her studies. He wanted to hit himself for not realizing this sooner.

With a hint of irritation, he asked, 

“Why did you lie that day? Why did you make me suffer all this time?”

“I was teaching you a lesson. I wanted you to understand how much it hurt. You were always busy hanging out with your friends, crossing every limit. You never thought about our future. So, I had to make you feel the pain, make you realize my worth. And it worked—you’ve changed. You’ve finally started thinking about the future.”

“You…”

“Enough with the ‘you, you!’ Now, are you going to put that garland in my hair, or should I leave?”

Sporsh decided not to waste any more time. He didn’t want to lose this second chance. With deep love and care, he gently placed the garland in her hair bun. Ah! This was pure bliss—a perfect moment he never wanted to end.