"The dawn came softly to the village, spilling pale light over the mud walls and thatched rooftops. A cool breeze carried the scent of wet earth, mingled with faint jasmine and fresh grass." Somewhere far away, a rooster crowed, answered by another in a slow, quiet chorus. The village stirred gently—the creak of a cartwheel, the low bleating of goats, the rhythmic splash of water being drawn from the well. Life here moved like an old song, steady and familiar.🌾🍃💭
Inside Yuni's home, the air was heavier than the morning light. Her mother worked at the low stone stove, kneading dough with steady motions, but her eyes were distant. Her father sat on the veranda steps, elbows resting on his knees, gazing far beyond the golden fields. Her brother sat beside him, silent, his hands folded loosely in his lap. Yuni stood at the doorway, bare feet on cool mud, listening to the world waking.
For days now, a quiet unease had settled over the house. Whispers under the neem tree, shared looks between her parents, her father's sudden absences—all spoke of change. Something unspoken hovered in the air.
That morning, over a simple breakfast of rotis and lentils, her father broke the silence.
🗣️"We cannot live bound to the fields forever," he said softly. "There are no opportunities here—not for learning, not for growth. For Yuni, for your brother, we must think beyond the boundaries of this village."
Her mother paused, spoon hovering over her tea. "But the city… it will not be the same. It is not easy living there."😔
"No," her father admitted. "It is not. But life is never easy. Here, the fields feed us, yes, but they cannot feed dreams. They cannot give them the chance to grow beyond these walls. The city might."
Her brother said nothing, but his silence was a deep agreement.
Yuni kept her own thoughts quiet. Fear and curiosity twisted inside her. Leaving the only home she had ever known felt like losing a part of herself, yet a faint spark stirred—what lay beyond these fields?
The Days of Quiet Preparation
The days after the conversation were filled with quiet work. Her parents began making plans in low tones—what they would take, what they would leave behind. 🌸🌿
The mornings were filled with routine: drawing water at the well, sweeping the courtyard, tending the small kitchen garden. But everything now felt different. Even the familiar sounds of the village—the chatter of women at the well, the laughter of children, the lowing of cows—carried a note of finality.
Yuni wandered often to the shed where Lili and the other animals stayed. Lili, with her gentle brown eyes, would lift her head when Yuni approached. The goats and chickens moved around lazily, their sounds blending into the melody of the village. Somewhere, a crow cawed softly.
Her visits became longer, as if she knew she was storing the moments in her memory. She would stand beside Lili in silence, watching the sunlight fall on her back, feeling the warmth and peace of her presence. Sometimes, she spoke softly to her—words that felt unnecessary, as if the cow could understand.
The Family Discussion
One afternoon, her father called Yuni and her brother under the neem tree. Her mother joined quietly, carrying a basket of fruit. They sat together on the cool grass, the shade protecting them from the harsh afternoon sun.🌻
"There is no easy way," her father said. "But we must be certain. The city offers opportunities—schools, jobs, learning. For you children, it could mean something more."
Her brother looked away, silent, fingers tracing the grass. Yuni's mother sighed. "It means leaving everything we know. The village, our home, our roots."
Her father nodded. "Yes. But roots do not stop the wind. We must decide what future we want for you."
Yuni listened quietly, her heart beating fast. The idea of leaving filled her with fear, but also an unnameable pull toward what lay beyond.
The Walk to Her Favourite Places
Later that evening, Yuni took her usual path through the village. She moved slowly, breathing in the familiar scents—the wet earth by the well, the faint sweetness of jasmine, the dusty warmth of the lanes.🌸
Her first stop was the well. She rested her hands on the cool stone, watching the water ripple. The sound of the rope creaking as she drew water felt like an old song she would remember forever.
From there, she wandered to her favourite places.
The Neem Tree — the shade under which she and Radha had spent countless afternoons. She sat beneath it, letting the rustle of leaves speak to her. The air was filled with memories—the sound of laughter, the whisper of stories.
The Open Field — a stretch of green where she had run barefoot countless times. She stepped lightly, feeling the soft earth under her feet, breathing deeply the scent of grass and earth.
The Old Banyan Tree — where she had once carved her name with Radha. She touched the bark, smiling faintly, her fingers tracing the grooves worn by time.
While walking, she met Radha and a few other children. They greeted her with shy smiles. Radha came close and whispered, "Don't forget us." Yuni nodded quietly, words stuck in her throat.
Time with Lili
As the sun began to dip low, Yuni moved to the shed. Lili lifted her head, her eyes calm yet searching. Yuni knelt beside her, brushing her coarse hair, speaking softly. "I will miss you, Lili," she whispered. The cow lowed softly, leaning into her touch.
She lingered there, touching each animal gently. The goats nudged her fingers, the chickens clucked softly. She stayed until the air was heavy with evening stillness, carrying the warmth of these last moments in her heart.
Evening Reflections
That night, Yuni lay awake under the open sky. The stars scattered above her like silver dust. Somewhere, a dog barked softly. Crickets sang quietly in the distance.
She thought of the days she had spent here—the laughter under the neem tree, the scent of fresh rotis, Lili's gentle lowing. She thought of her parents' words, of the city they spoke of. A place so different—bright, loud, endless.
Her grandmother's words came to her mind: "The world always changes, whether we want it to or not."
Yuni whispered softly to herself, "Will I be ready?"
Deep inside, she knew the road beyond the fields was waiting—and soon, they would take it.🌸🌿✨
"In the quiet of the village, whispers of change stir the air. Yuni feels the pull of something beyond—yet the heart of home still calls her. As preparations begin, she walks through memories, visits cherished places, and feels the weight of what's to come. This is the chapter where the road ahead begins to take shape."
🖤🖤🖤
"The choice has been made, preparations have begun… but the road beyond the fields is still calling. What do you feel is waiting for Yuni? Comment your thoughts and let's dream together." ✨💭