The path along the Godavari wound through dense forests, sunlight flickering through the leaves. Anand walked between Agastya and Sootikshna, the soft murmur of the river accompanying their steps. Birds called from the treetops, and the distant rustle of animals hinted at the forest's secret life.
By mid-afternoon, they arrived at a small village nestled on a clearing near the riverbank. Unlike Gautamivana, the settlement was humble — huts of mud and thatch, smoke curling lazily from cooking fires, children darting between the dwellings. Smoke from small hearths mixed with the fresh scent of earth and foliage.
As soon as the villagers saw Agastya, their faces brightened with reverence. "Maharishi!" a few men called out, bowing slightly. Women came forward with baskets of fruits and freshly drawn water. Children paused in their games, wide-eyed at the sage's presence.
Anand, walking slightly behind, was met with curious glances. His clothing, unlike anything the villagers wore, drew quiet murmurs. Unlike Gautamivana, there were no elders ready to enforce a hierarchy of caste; the village was mostly hunters, free from strict social rules. Some villagers whispered to one another, pointing subtly, while others simply shook their heads with mild amusement.
A small girl, no older than six, stepped forward. Her hair was tied in a messy braid, and she clutched a wooden toy. "Why… why do you wear such clothes, uncle?" she asked, tilting her head, curiosity in her wide brown eyes.
Anand paused, looked down at himself, and then at her. "These? Well… I suppose they're just what I like to wear. Comfortable. Good for walking long distances and for hiding from the rain," he said with a faint smile.
The girl giggled. "But… it looks so… different!"
"Different is fine," Anand said. "It keeps me… interesting." He winked at her, and she laughed, running back to her friends.
Agastya and Sootikshna walked ahead, conversing softly with the village head. The villagers guided the group to a large, open hut near the center of the village. Here, mats were laid out for the guests, and baskets of simple food were offered — rice, tubers, fresh fruits, and water. Anand sat cross-legged, observing quietly. He noticed the children watching him from a distance, whispering to one another. Some mimicked his gestures, some just stared.
One of the hunters, a tall man with a bow slung over his shoulder, leaned toward his companion and whispered, "Who is this strange man? His clothes… so odd. And yet… he seems… calm."
"Maybe he is a wanderer," the other replied. "Or someone with… power. I don't know."
Anand, overhearing a faint portion of the conversation, chuckled lightly under his breath. The subtle curiosity of the villagers reminded him of Gautamivana, though here, the tone was gentler, more innocent.
Later in the afternoon, the children gathered near the riverbank, cautiously approaching Anand. "Can you play with us?" one asked, a boy named Tilak. Anand nodded, smiling. The group ran to the nearby clearing, and Anand spent the next hour teaching them Stone-Leaf-Stick, showing them the XO game in the dirt. Laughter filled the air, not tinged by fear or worry, just simple, free enjoyment.
During this time, the small girl Vanu returned, peeking from behind a tree. "Are you… really going to teach us everything you know?" she asked shyly.
Anand crouched down, looking her in the eyes. "Yes. And if I forget anything, we'll learn it together. Games, tricks… maybe even a few things about surviving in the forest."
Vanu's face lit up with excitement. She ran to fetch her friends, and soon the clearing was alive with the sounds of children discovering new games, shouting, and playing freely. Anand felt a rare sense of ease, unburdened by social judgment, hierarchies, or expectations. Here, he was simply a person among others, curious, playful, and helpful.
As evening approached, Agastya called the group together. The villagers had prepared a modest meal, offering it with warmth and respect. Anand ate quietly, observing the gentle, egalitarian nature of the community. Even the gossip about his clothes seemed harmless, a simple human curiosity rather than judgment.
Before retiring for the night, Anand stepped outside, watching the river reflect the fading orange of the sun. Children's laughter still echoed faintly, and he smiled. Here, in this hunter village, life was simple, free from the rigid hierarchies he had seen before. And yet, he knew the path ahead would again test him — perhaps in ways more subtle, more personal.
He folded his unusual clothing, tucking away his bag, and prepared to sleep. Tomorrow, he would rise early, explore the village further, and perhaps help the hunters with some small tasks — but tonight, he allowed himself the quiet comfort of belonging, if only for a short while.
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