For the hundredth time that night, Raman turned on his cot, unable to sleep. His mind was consumed with the weight of the work ahead, and a gnawing fear that he would fail at it all.
The first light of dawn crept in through the window. It wouldn't be long before the sun would rise, and his day would begin. Sighing, he swung his legs off the cot and grabbed his shirt from the hook. As he slipped it on, he glanced at his wife. Seema was awake.
"Sorry," he muttered, buttoning up his shirt. "I should've been more careful."
She yawned, her voice soft. "It's almost time now. I should've been up earlier." Her dark circles were a testament to her restless night. Had she already sensed his failure? Or was it just her pregnancy playing tricks on him? It had only been three months, and they were still not out of danger.
"No, you need your rest," he said quickly. "I spoke with Meena Kaki. She'll be here before noon, so if you need anything, just ask her."
Seema nodded but then asked, "Is it today?"
"What?" he asked, confused. Then the realization hit. "The tehravi? No, tomorrow. But some might come today."
"I hope Hari and his wife are here. With Birju Kaka not well, Mayuri Kaki will need them."
"I saw their car yesterday, so they might be here already."
"Well, that's a relief," she sighed.
"Send Bishu to me if there's a problem, alright?" Raman was almost ready to leave, but he hesitated. He didn't want to leave her yet.
"When will you be back tomorrow?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.
"Before sunrise," he replied. "I still have to attend the tehravi, so I'll be back before they begin the havana." Seema nodded, as though she wanted to say something more, but remained silent. He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised.
With one last look at her, he stepped out of the room.
The sky had grown lighter, birds chirping in the courtyard. Raman gathered his tools and food, then went toward his old bicycle, the one he had relied on for years. He was ready, but as he sat down, a heavy feeling of dread washed over him. Should he leave her like this? Would Meena Kaki be able to handle everything if something went wrong? What if Bishu didn't arrive in time? He couldn't let his thoughts spiral any further. These worries wouldn't help. He took a deep breath, gave his house one last glance, and pedaled off.
By the time Raman reached his farm, the sun had begun to rise, the dewdrops on the grass sparkling like tiny diamonds in the soft light. He took a deep breath, taking in the scene. It wasn't much, but with time slipping away, he knew he had to push harder than ever before.
He dropped to his haunches, picking up a handful of crops, slicing them near the roots, and placing them in a small pile beside him. His movements were automatic, his mind elsewhere. As the sun climbed higher, his limbs began to ache from the work, but he didn't stop.
Hours passed. By the time Raman finished, exhaustion settled in like a weight on his shoulders. He stood and surveyed the remaining crops—more than two-thirds were still untouched. He needed help, but the other farmers were busy with their fields. He dusted off his clothes, put his tools away, and decided to freshen up.
He made his way to the well at the edge of his farm, splashing cold water on his face, hands, and legs. The chill of it soothed his tired body, and for a moment, he watched the other farmers finishing their work. He was far behind. But there was nothing more he could do for now.
He returned to his cot and opened the lunch he'd packed—cold chapattis with mango pickle, and some water. He ate quickly, the food offering little comfort. When he was finished, he set the remnants aside and lay back on the cot. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.
Suddenly, he was back on his bicycle, riding as fast as he could, desperate to save Sukku. But then his parents appeared, asking him to take them on a pilgrimage. He told them he had to save Sukku, that the boy was drowning in the pond. But by the time he arrived, Sukku was nowhere to be found. Instead, Seema was digging in the earth nearby, as if searching for a lost treasure. As he approached, he was about to ask what she was doing when he saw it— a small, pale hand emerging from the ground.