Two men were sitting outside of a grass-thatched house. There were three other houses around and some more at a distance. This was a small village near the forest. These people were very simple. One of them wore simple clothes which included some shorts and a vest. He also had slippers on his feet.
He was grinding something diligently. Beside him, there was a small pot on top of the fire. Steam was coming out from it and the strong medicinal pungent wafted in the air.
The second man clicked his tongue, a grass straw in his mouth. His legs were widened funnily and he looked like he had not showered for days. He asked, "Until when are you going to keep grinding those herbs, old man? You've been at it for hours."
The first man, focused on his task, barely glanced up. His hands moved with practised ease, methodically crushing the herbs into a fine paste. "These herbs are for a special remedy, young one. Patience is key," he replied, his voice calm and steady.
