"When the Monsoon Learned Our Names”The first time Aditya saw Parina, the rain was falling sideways.It was one of those July evenings in Ahmedabad when the sky turns the color of wet ash and the air smells of dust finally forgiven by water. Aditya had taken shelter under the leaking tin roof of an old tea stall near the Sabarmati river. His kurta clung to his skin, his slippers soaked, his heart heavy with the kind of tiredness that comes from dreaming too much and earning too little.Then she ran in.Parina did not walk into the rain; she argued with