The morning light broke gently over the fields of Khalsi, casting long shadows across the golden wheat and illuminating the soft, dusty paths that crisscrossed the village. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of earth and the distant hum of daily life beginning to stir. Rohan stood on the porch of his home, his gaze fixed on the fields ahead. A gentle breeze brushed against his face, and for a moment, everything felt like it had all those years ago, when he had been a boy with nothing but wide-open dreams and a heart full of ambition.
But this morning was different. This morning, he was not the one running. Instead, his children were racing across the fields, their laughter ringing out in the stillness, filling the air with a sense of joy and freedom that stirred something deep inside him.
