Roots That Never Leave Us: Chapter 10

The Smell of Soil in a Distant Land

In 2026, living far away in Gujarat, I watched the movie Kadaisi Vivasayi.

As the scenes unfolded, something stirred inside me.

The wells.
The farms.
The animals.
The festivals.

Suddenly, I wasn’t in Gujarat anymore.

I could smell the soil of Supparayapuram.

I could hear hens clucking, cows mooing, goats bleating, temple bells ringing.

Tears filled my eyes — not of sadness, but of longing.

Immediately, I called the tenant staying in our Pandarapuram house and asked about the goats, cows, cats, and hens.

It felt like checking on family.

That day, a thought took firm root in my heart.

I wanted to do some kind of farming in our village home.

Not for profit.

But for connection.

So every year when we visit, I could look forward to seeing something grow.

So my daughter could taste vegetables fresh from the soil.

So she could know the joy I once knew.

In a world rushing forward, I wanted to hold on to something timeless.

Because roots, once nurtured, never leave us.

They shape who we are.

Epilogue: Where I Belong

I may live in cities.
I may travel far.

But a part of me will always remain in a village courtyard — barefoot, laughing, smelling fresh earth, eating from banana leaves, listening to elders’ stories.

My life has come full circle.

From a bustling city child…
To a woman rediscovering her roots.

And now, a mother ready to pass them on.

**The End**

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