Dilli's heart had always known courage. He had faced the scorching heat of the fields with grit, wrestled with the uncertainties of business, endured the discipline of martial arts, and dared to dream of worlds beyond Atreyapuram. But when it came to love—especially love for Chitti—his courage, so fearless elsewhere, suddenly grew small.
Chitti belonged to the same earth as him, the same village lanes and river breeze, yet in his eyes she shone far above, like a star untouchable. She was younger in years, but her life seemed leagues ahead. Educated herself in the best possible way with honors in all academics, having the best job a student from a small village can get, admired not just for her beauty but for her wisdom and grace—Chitti was, to Dilli, a symbol of everything he aspired to be.
And he? He often felt like a man of rough edges—his hands hardened by soil and sweat, his dreams still forming, his world still waiting to unfold.
Love in Silence
Every time Chitti returned to Atreyapuram, Dilli's world seemed to brighten with her presence. Dilli would see her walking around her house filled with fields her steps confident, her smile calm, to Dilli she carried with her the quiet confidence of someone who had conquered the world outside.
And Dilli's heart? It swelled with love but sank into silence. He longed to say, "You are not just another girl to me—you are my heartbeat, the rhythm of my days, the dream in my eyes." But when the words reached his lips, they froze.
Fear gripped him—not fear of her, but fear of losing the sacred image he carried of her. Fear she might laugh at the simplicity of his feelings. Fear that he was daring too high, stretching his hand toward a star never meant to be touched. And so he kept his love within him, not as a fleeting crush, but as something divine, etched deep in his soul, like a secret prayer whispered to the gods.
Love as a Vow
To Dilli, love was never about passing desires. When he thought of Chitti, he thought of building something eternal. She was not just the woman he adored—she was the companion he longed to walk beside, the partner with whom he dreamed of crafting a life of trust, respect, and unshakable togetherness.
But pride and self-respect guarded his heart. Dilli's beliefs were simple yet unbending:
A man must stand as the provider and protector—the one who shields his family from storms and earns with dignity.
A woman must be the organiser and nurturer—the guiding hand that binds a household and gives meaning to all the man's struggles.
In his eyes, marriage was not just about love. It was about worthiness.
A Silent Oath
And so, Dilli's pursuit of Chitti was not about stolen glances or whispered promises. It was about proving himself. He could not imagine reaching for her hand while still climbing, still searching for his place in the world. He wanted to stand tall—his achievements matching her brilliance, his strength silencing every whisper of doubt.
What haunted him most was the thought of villagers gossiping, sneering that Chitti had chosen a man "beneath" her. Worse still, he could not bear the idea of anyone mocking her for choosing him. His love was too sacred to let it be tainted by others' scorn.
So he carried a vow within his chest, a vow as fierce as fire:
I will rise. I will build myself into a man no one can question. And when I stand before her one day, it will not be as a dreamer begging for love, but as a man worthy of her hand, worthy of her heart.
Until then, his love remained what it had always been—a silent oath, burning quietly, fueling every dream, every struggle, every step of his journey.