Love Between the Shepherd | A Silent Village Love Story
Love Between the Shepherd
Author: Kavitha.V
They never said the word love out loud.
Not even once.
Yet, every morning mist and every sunset over the grazing fields knew what their hearts carried.
Rangammal and Rangan were shepherds in a quiet village surrounded by open grasslands. Their lives were simple—early mornings, wandering flocks, tired feet, and peaceful silences. But within that simplicity grew something deep, unspoken, and powerful.
Rangammal often guided her sheep a little farther than necessary.
She told herself it was for better grass.
In truth, it was always for Rangan.
She knew the path he would take.
She knew the old tree where he rested.
And she knew that if she reached there at the right moment, she would see him waiting—pretending to watch his sheep, but really watching her.
Rangan, too, felt the pull.
No matter how tired he was, he would hurry, almost running, just to reach that meeting place.
Her presence made the long days lighter.
Her smile was enough to silence his worries.
They would sit under the old tree, speaking very little.
Sometimes they talked about the sheep.
Sometimes about the weather.
Most of the time, they didn’t speak at all.
Their eyes did the talking.
One day, Rangammal didn’t come.
The sun climbed higher.
The sheep settled quietly.
But Rangan’s heart grew restless.
Why didn’t she come?
Unable to bear the uncertainty, he did something he had never done before—he went to her house.
What he saw there shattered him.
Relatives from a neighboring village had come to ask for Rangammal’s hand in marriage. They were wealthy. Respected. Confident. Rangammal’s family looked pleased.
Rangan stood frozen.
What will I do now?
The question echoed inside him, unanswered.
That day, he couldn’t even see her.
The next morning, Rangammal came with her sheep.
The moment she saw Rangan, she broke down and hugged him tightly, tears soaking his shoulder.
“What should I do?” she cried.
“They’ve decided everything. I begged them, but they won’t listen to me.”
Rangan felt her pain as his own. He held her gently and said,
“Don’t cry. I’m here. I’ll come to your house and speak.”
The following day, he went.
He spoke with respect.
With honesty.
With hope.
But her family refused.
“This is not your place,” they said.
Their words cut deeper than any blade.
The next evening, Rangammal and Rangan met under their old tree for what felt like the last time. Silence stretched between them, heavy and painful.
Then Rangan spoke softly, but firmly.
“This village will never let us live in peace.
Let’s leave.”
Fear flickered in Rangammal’s eyes.
But beneath it was trust.
That very night, they left the village.
No money.
No support.
No familiar faces.
Only each other.
Life away from home was harsh.
They worked during the day, tending sheep for others.
At night, they sat under open skies, counting stars instead of worries.
Some nights, hunger kept them awake.
Some days, exhaustion bent their backs.
But they never felt alone.
Because they hadn’t just fallen in love.
They had chosen it—every single day.
They never said I love you.
They lived it.
And sometimes, love doesn’t need words—
only courage.