It's already afternoon—probably around 2 or 2:30.
I really should consider creating a watch or something to keep track of time more accurately.
After this morning's small drama session, I found myself once again in Mother Meera's arms, strolling around the village as she greeted and chatted with just about everyone we passed.
At this point, I'm pretty sure the entire village knows my name. And while I couldn't exactly talk, I still managed to gather a lot of useful intel from all the gossip.
Truly, no matter the era or the world, one thing remains constant: women and their unshakable love for gossip.
If I could speak, I would've gladly joined in too—but alas, I'm still a baby.
Maybe in a few years.
Now, as for the important information I managed to collect—first off, the name of the village: Amritpura.
Which roughly translates to "Dwellers of the Nectar of Immortality."
Fitting, don't you think?
After all, I am immortal.
As for why the village has such a name, that remains a mystery for now.
Unfortunately, my sacred baby language is currently incomprehensible to mortals, so I'll have to wait until I learn their tongue to investigate further.
'Patience, Kaira… your time will come,'.
So far, I've gathered a fair amount of useful information.
For starters, there's a major wheat harvest coming up this year.
"Hmm… that probably means it's either October or November—at least, that's how it worked in my previous life."
Back then, wheat, sugarcane, and corn were usually harvested around that time. Seems like this world follows a similar pattern.
I also picked up some valuable intel about Teacher Samira—who, surprisingly, is even more popular than the village chief, the person with the highest authority around here.
Not in terms of strength, of course, but in official power.
The village chief's role is pretty standard: relaying government messages to the villagers, overseeing tax collection, and acting as the general supervisor of village matters. Apparently, the next round of tax collection is scheduled for next month—or possibly the last month of the year.
Now, back to Teacher Samira.
She's a former student of a 'Gurukul'—a traditional school located deep in serene forests, often founded by sages or rishis.
This form of education was considered the foundation of learning in ancient times, rooted in simplicity, discipline, and nature. Think of it like boarding school… but instead of stress and deadlines, it's all about peace, wisdom, and daily life in the forest.
To complete your education there, you'd spend most of your childhood in the gurukul, living alongside your teacher and fellow students.
So yes, Teacher Samira is a product of that peaceful world—and she's originally from this very village. In gratitude to her birthplace, she chose to return and dedicate her life to teaching local children how to read and write.
Honestly, it's no wonder she's so respected. She left behind what could have been a comfortable life to serve this quiet village with her knowledge and kindness.
"That magic she used… it must've been something she learned in the gurukul. Once I grow up a little, I'll definitely ask her to teach me too."
After all the gossip ended, we finally returned home.
Everyone was already there—gathered and ready. Dinner had been cooked, the house filled with the warm scent of spices and fresh food.
"No one ever notices how fast time flies during gossip sessions."
"It's alright, we already made dinner. Come on, I'll serve it," Raghavan said with a gentle smile.
"Ahaha… how was the harvest?" Meera asked, clearly trying to change the subject, a little embarrassed from being out so long.
"It was good. I managed to collect a lot of herbs," Raghavan replied warmly.
Saying this, he handed her a small pouch of coins. Inside were at least six reddish-orange coins and three silver ones.
Judging by the color, the reddish-orange ones were likely made of copper, while the silver coins were obviously… well, silver.
There must be gold coins too, though I haven't seen any yet.
I don't know the exact value of each type, but judging from their expressions, this seemed like a decent amount of money.
Well, it's not like I need to worry about finances right now—at least our household can feed all of us comfortably.
It looks like we don't have our own land or something close to it.
Maybe my parents settled here from somewhere else, but that's not really important.
Besides, the villagers here seem to help each other out, especially during the harvest.
Even those without land receive a small share of the crops as a kind gesture from the farmers for their help during harvest.
"How's the food I made?" Raghavan asked cheerfully.
"It's good. You should make it every day," meera replied, a little too quickly.
Then he immediately focused on his meal, clearly trying to avoid further conversation.
And me? I was back to drinking my usual goat milk like always.
"Hmm… it really is getting more delicious every day."