A note from Blackleg

Here you go another chapter for readers.

Time flowed like running water, but Arjun felt homesick even after three months of living in this strange land.

Arjun was sitting under the shade of a banyan tree to escape from the sweltering heat of mid-day. The last few months were hectic and did not allow him much free time. He had never worked so hard in his life.

Now he got the rest he sought, his mind started to ask uncomfortable questions for which he had no answers.

There were so many puzzling things like how he was now a child? How can he perfectly understand the language of this land? Heck, he even has strange memories of this kid's body he was inhabiting.

Arjun was going nuts because of all the unanswered questions which caused turmoil in his mind.

He and his friend back home before this fiasco fantasized about living in ancient India. No schools to go to or homework to be completed. Living a happy life without the pressure of doing well in school and society, but the truth was much crueller.

Arjun lamented that all the history classes, books and movies had not prepared him for this. If he could meet his past self, there would be a war of words.

Ancient life was much crueller and physically demanding even for kids at his age. The grind starts at sun up and stops only after sundown. That is not because chores were completed but because there was no light source to finish it efficiently.

The kids were expected to do chores for their father and mother like milking the cow for milk early in the morning. Carrying things around for mother. It goes on and on and does not stop, there was no room to breathe.

"Can't breathe," Arjun mumbled.

"Boy, what did you say?"A male gruff voice asked him.

Oh yeah, he totally forgot about his father and his elder brother who was resting with him under the shade of a tree.

He looked at them. Arjun's father was leaning on a trunk and closed his eyes to get much-needed rest. This man worked tirelessly from sunrise to sunset. Next to father was a boy, about ten years of age, who was sprawled on the ground and using roots of banyan as a pillow. It was heartening for Arjun to see someone as tired as him. After all, misery loves company.

It was weird to call the perfect strangers father and mother.
Arjun's father was about 5'7 in height. His age maybe late twenties or early thirties. He was balding prematurely, that was not good news for Arjun.

Men wore the dhoti, the cloth was wrapped around the lower body, and women wore the saree without a blouse. An adult male also wore a turban as a sign of adulthood. Adult women wore their hair intricately to indicate they were ready for womanly duties.

Now he thought about the incident after waking up and being shocked because of the dress worn by his mother. This was a dress worn by all adult village women. He eventually got an eyeful, but the novelty faded away, and also memories of this body helped Arjun to adapt to this period.

If he thought rationally, the dress worn by these people here was not that different from modern India. In modern India, men still wore dhoti but preferred pants and women wore saree with the blouse, which made him feel ambivalent on blouse wearing trend in modern India. He could not make his mind whether wearing a blouse trend was good or not.

Not everything was great though because strange memories make him show affection to strangers. It was irrational and quite unsettling to suddenly like your new parents as much as your old parents.

Cool shade and tiredness made Arjun drowsy. When he was about to fall asleep after ruminating deep thoughts, but fate had a different path for him.

"Aachman, get to work" a middle-aged man got up stretched and an older boy also scrambled up in a hurry.

"Aachman" the older man shouted and nudged the younger boy with his legs.


Arjun wondered who and what was disturbing him. Sleep muddled his brain, finally understood his father was calling him for work. He promptly cracked open one of his eyes.

"Five more minutes, father" Arjun rolled away from his noisy father.

The sharp noise of thud was paired with the wailing of a young boy. The young boy got up cradling his head in both hands.

"No boy of mine would be lazy when work needs to be done"

The older boy vainly tried to stop his giggling by holding his hand over the mouth, but it was a lost cause. When Arjun glared at him, it made the older boy double down to continue laughing.

The older boy imitated the younger boy by shooing his father and rolling on the ground.

"Father, Aabha, is teasing me"

The middle-aged man turned back and promptly thumped the head of the older boy.

Arjun gave a smug look towards the old boy who was tearing up and cradling his head with both of his hands.

Oh, yeah, Arjun, now called Aachman felt he lost something and gained something from the name change. Only time will tell what it was.

Aachman and his older brother followed their father and started doing farm work and checking the field as soon as possible, it would be time for the monsoon.


A note from Blackleg

In this chapter, I want to show the realities of living in ancient India. 

If you like this chapter then rate this fiction.🤗

About the author


  • India
  • I am not a disease or a strike breaker but an immortal panda cultivator.

Bio: What to say, long time lurker could not find anything new and started to write.

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