THE ENTHUSIASTIC VILLAGERS

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It was early in the morning, the sun rays spilling from the window caused the sleeping beauty on the bed to stir. Her eyes widens for a split second on finding herself in an unusual environment. 

The walls of the room were made up of mud and straws maintaining a naturally cool atmosphere in the room. In front was the door that was left ajar at the moment. Apart from the hard wooden bed that she laid upon causing her muscles to turn stiff, the room barely had anything else excluding a small table along with an earthen pot kept at the corner.

 Shifting back her attention from the room to herself, she saw herself dressed in the same black shirt and jeans along with her black overcoat, she also noticed the small bruises and cuts treated with herbal pastes on her exposed arms and legs. She brought her arm near the face to take a wiff of the herbal scent.

'Ashwagandha, triphala, brahmi, haldi, neem.........' she ranted off the names of a bunch of herbs, not realizing the foreign presence at the door.

'Brilliant!!!' exclaimed an old man standing near the door. He was dressed in traditional Indian style dhoti while a piece of white cloth was draped around him covering his upper body. His white hair and face wrinkles showing traces of the effect time left on him. Despite his age the old man looked quite active, his eyes filled with kindness.

Till now Mahira had quite a grasp of the situation but that caused her to become more confused than ever, unless the experiment failed she should have already transmigrated to across the parallel universe where Amyra is, but now on observing her surroundings it was more like she got teleported to some rural village in India.

Knowing that the elder in front of her was probably the one who treated her and provided her with shelter, she spoke in her most amiable tone.

'Thank you' Those words felt as foreign as ever, the number of people she had ever thanked in her life could be counted on one hand.

Although her tone was devoid of emotions just like her blank face, the sincerity in her eyes were apparent, so the old man doesn't seems to mind it one bit as he went towards the corner all the while continuing his conversation.

'That's fine as a medic it's my job to treat the injured, I take it that you are all well now.' He brought a glass of water from the pot towards her, that she gladly receives.

'I am fine now.' Her injuries were superficial there was no reason for her to not be fine.

By now Mahira has noticed a crucial point, the old man was conversing in Sanskrit. Although there are still rural villages in India where people live in mud houses and wear traditional outfit that doesn't give any justification for his fluency in sanskrit that had almost became an ancient language. Of course there is a high possibility that they speak it as secondary language since the place seems backward in terms of development. But what kind of a person would converse in sanskrit to a stranger he met for the first time. A normal person's reaction would be to talk in his mother tongue or english/hindi that are considered official languages, known by majority. But the first words he spoke was in sanskrit as if it's his primary language and she was sure there doesn't exist a place in India where they have sanskrit as the regional language. Not to mention his lack of surprise when she replied him in same.

'You know medicine?' although that appeared as a question it was more of a statement. The herbs she accurately recognised with just a wiff of the paste shows her immense knowledge and talent in medicine.

'I studied medicine.' Till now the old man has became aware of her quite temperament, she was different from the village girls who are either chirpy or shy and introvert, cause even though she is quiet it wasn't due to shyness or lack of confidence, she seemed naturally cold by nature. 

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