Unforgettable Memories: Honouring the Time Spent Together.

In the symphony of life, there are stories that resonate long after they have been told. This is a story of love, a story that transcended obstacles and flourished even in the face of adversity. It's the story of Projukta and the unforgettable time we shared a time that ended in the most heart-wrenching way.

 

                                                   

A Snapshot from Our Time Together

We met on Discord and used it to listen to songs. Back then, there was a bot called Rhythm that we used a lot for music. But Discord had to close that bot because of over-use xD. Even though we liked different songs, we somehow enjoyed listening together. As time went on, we got to know each other better. During this time, my sleep schedule wasn't great because I was into gaming. I used to play games professionally, and during COVID-19, I would start playing at 10 in the night and finish at 6 in the morning. Projukta had a different routine. She woke up early, and we'd chat for 5 to 10 minutes before I went to sleep. At first, I thought she was always an early riser, but later she told me that she adjusted her schedule to talk to me. This was because I used to sleep in the morning and wake up in the evening due to my gaming.

 

Our story began on October 15, 2020, a date I will always remember. Over three years, we created many special moments and found comfort in each other's company. Despite the challenges life through our way, our bond grew stronger. We'd have secret talks at Dhanmondi's Crimson Cup cafe, where Projukta would sneak out to meet me. During the lock down, things changed. She was great in English, and I struggled with English, good enough to pass in the college exams but not good enough to pass in university admission exams. We complemented each other well. While she helped me with English, I tried to explain math to her. Even for university admissions, her English skills shone as she tackled questions that opened doors to me.

    

                                                                              

 

She was so good at her academics that she used to get 92 or 95 out of 100. Beneath her academic success lay a sad story. Projukta's parents didn't appreciate her. They called her useless and unworthy just because she was a girl. She had to do all the work at home from making breakfast to dinner, washing clothes, cleaning furniture everything alone because both of her parents are private job holders. This was hard to understand in the 21st century. But despite these challenges, we held onto our connection. We would communicate through games, as she wasn't allowed to use social media. She wasn't even allowed to talk to her friends or hang out with them. She was fully isolated at her home. Our love for food also brought us closer. We would try different places to eat whenever we got the chance. I recall the comical sushi misadventure the anticipation of its deliciousness crushed by the reality of its tastelessness. Such experiences, both good and bad, were etched into the chapters of our shared history. Among the countless memories we created, one stands out vividly: the day we strolled in Lalmatia and a sudden rain shower caught us by surprise. Instead of seeking shelter, we embraced the rain, walking for nearly an hour, laughing, and letting the drops wash away our worries. It was a simple yet unforgettable experience that captured the essence of our relationship. 

                       

A Painful Farewell

 

But beneath the laughter and shared moments, Projukta silently battled the weight of expectations. She tried a lot to survive but she failed because of  her parents. On May 28, 2023, a call from her shattered my world. Amidst my English class, she confessed her inability to bear the burden any longer. In those fifteen minutes, she laid bare her pain, seeking solace. I implored her to leave her suffocating home and promised to be her refuge. "Come out," I urged, "I'm coming to get you." But she never arrived. Six agonizing hours of waiting and the truth came crashing in on the evening of the next day – she was gone. Her pain had become too much to bear, her spirit broken by the weight of expectations she could never meet.

 

As I look back on our time together, I am reminded of the importance of compassion and understanding. Projukta's story serves as a poignant reminder that we must challenge regressive mindsets and create a world where everyone feels valued. May her memory inspire us to extend a helping hand to those who silently struggle, to break free from societal norms, and to cherish every moment we have.