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Rudra.
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Riya.
The Mumbai local train rattled and swayed, a symphony of human chaos.
Rudra, perched on a corner seat, watched as the world outside blurred into a kaleidoscope of color.
He was 24, a young man with a sharp jawline and eyes that held the shadows of a life lived on the edge.
Then, she boarded.
Riya, a wisp of a girl with eyes as bright as the sun and a smile that could melt glaciers, sat across from him.
Her innocence was as captivating as her beauty.
Rudra felt something shift within him, a strange and unfamiliar warmth. It was love at first sight.
He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to know her. But he held back. The train lurched forward, and he knew this was a fleeting moment, a glimpse of something he wouldn't be able to hold onto.
As the train neared his station, his heart was beating immensely. He had that optimistic thought in his mind that he will meet her again and he will Find her Soon He rose, his heart pounding, and he pulled of the train leaving behind the scent of her perfume and the echo of her laughter.
The world spun, but he was determined. He would find her again.
Three years passed. Rudra, now 27, had found success. He had built his own business, a venture that had transformed him. His sharp features were softened by success, his eyes held a newfound confidence.
He was a man who knew his worth. He had never forgotten Riya. He had searched, piecing together fragments of information, a name scribbled on a napkin, a fleeting glimpse of her at a local art gallery. He was determined to find her.
One evening, at a crowded art exhibition, he saw her. Riya, now a woman, was standing in front of a painting, her face a study of contemplation.
Time had softened her features, but the innocence in her eyes remained. As he approached, her gaze met his. But her eyes held no recognition.
"Riya?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
The name seemed to spark a flicker of confusion in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know you."
A wave of disappointment washed over Rudra, but he was not easily deterred. "We met on a train," he said, "three years ago."
Her eyes widened. "A train?"
He recounted the circumstances, the fleeting moment they had shared. He described her dress, her laughter, the way she had looked at him.
Riya’s face softened. A faint smile graced her lips. "That was you? I remember the train ride. You were… different then."
"I was trying to find myself," he said. "Now, I'm trying to find you."
He held her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping for a spark, a flicker of recognition. He was no longer the boy on the train, but his love for her remained.
The train had carried them apart, but he was determined that fate would bring them back together.
