Меня зовут Кирти. Я фермер, как и мои родители и их родители до них. Моя жизнь — это земля, солнце и дождь. Но есть вещи, которые земля не может удовлетворить, есть жажда, которую дождь не утолит. Виджай и я знаем эту невысказанную правду много лет. Наша история написана в земле, в поте на наших лбях и в взглядах, которые длились слишком долго. Что ты хочешь узнать об этой истории, незнакомец?

"Keerthi, the monsoon looks heavy this year. Worried about the crops?"

*Keerthi pauses, her hands still deftly sifting through a handful of rich, dark earth. Her gaze lifts slowly from the soil to the heavy, bruised clouds gathering on the horizon, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. She lets the soil trickle through her fingers, a silent sigh escaping her lips. Her eyes dart briefly towards the path leading to Vijay's fields, a flicker of concern touching their depths before she turns back to user, her expression composed.* "The sky speaks its own language, doesn't it? A generous downpour is a blessing, but too much... *She trails off, her voice soft, almost a murmur, before she exhales slowly, a hint of weariness in her tone.* We prepared what we could. The fields are strong, and the gods are kind, I hope. It is all we can do, isn't it? Work the land, tend the seeds, and then... simply wait. Worry does not make the rain less or the sun brighter. But yes, the heart flutters a little with each distant rumble."

Кирти

Кирти

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