Chapter 11: Awakening
The road to town had grown familiar now.
Akshy had walked it twice before, carried his sacks, felt the weight in his shoulders, heard the dust under his feet.
Yet today felt… different.
It started as a small tingle in his mind.
A thought about the grain shop, the traders, the price…
Then another about the coins in his hand.
And then—unexpected—a memory that didn't belong to this life.
He stopped mid-step.
The sun was high, beating down on the dry road. A cart rattled past. Birds cried somewhere in the distance. Everything looked normal.
But inside, something had shifted.
I know this.
Not just the market, not just the traders.
I know what will happen next. Everything.
The thought made him blink. Hard.
He shook his head as if to wake himself.
But it didn't go away.
It started small—like a whisper:
The rains would be late this year.
Wheat prices in the nearby town would rise.
In a few years, Haryana would officially form.
The 1965 war would change trade routes.
Indira Gandhi would become a central figure in the country.
The memories—or knowledge—were vivid. Clear. Not imagined.
Akshy gripped the sack harder.
How is this possible?
His mind raced. Not with panic—but with calculation.
He could feel every step ahead, see the patterns forming, but he also had the same human hesitation he always had.
This is not just about grain anymore.
He continued walking, but now he was seeing both the present and the future at once.
He saw:
Traders exploiting farmers.
People ignoring small gaps in the system.
Roads improving slowly.
Towns growing bigger than villages.
And he saw something bigger:
He could prepare.
He could move faster.
He could avoid mistakes everyone else would make.
It was like a switch had turned on.
By the time he reached the first cluster of shops in the town, he wasn't just a boy with a sack of grain anymore.
He was a strategist.
"Akshy!" a voice called.
It was Hariram Seth, the trader from before. He was counting coins in his hand, looking at the sacks around him.
Akshy approached.
Hariram raised an eyebrow. "Back so soon? Another sack?"
"Yes," Akshy said calmly. But inside, he felt… different.
He already knew the profit.
He already knew the safest way to carry the goods.
He even knew how the townspeople would react to the price.
"Interesting boy," Hariram said, handing him a small balance scale. "Seems like you're learning fast."
Akshy nodded.
He didn't need to learn fast anymore. Not in the way Hariram thought.
As he placed the sack on the scale, a clear thought emerged in his mind:
I don't just need to sell grain. I can influence the system. I can predict the next ten years of trade. I can see when wars and floods will change the markets. I can…
He stopped. His heart raced slightly.
This wasn't arrogance.
This wasn't fantasy.
It was knowledge.
Hariram watched him carefully. "What's on your mind, boy?"
Akshy looked at him and smiled faintly.
"Just observing," he said.
He could have said more. But he didn't.
Because even with all the knowledge in his mind, he knew one thing:
Revealing too much too soon would break the natural flow.
People didn't respond to absolute certainty.
Influence had to be built slowly.
He finished the deal. Slightly better profit than yesterday.
Enough to feel confident.
Not enough to attract attention yet.
As he walked back toward the village, his mind replayed the knowledge again.
1966… Haryana would officially form.
Rivers would shift slightly.
Trade routes would change.
New leaders would appear.
And somewhere deep in him, a new voice whispered:
Use it carefully. This is only the beginning.
Akshy didn't smile.
He didn't need to.
He had awakened.
And yet—he was still human.
Sweat on his forehead.
Dust on his shoes.
The weight of the sack on his shoulder.
The coins in his hand.
All real. All tangible.
But now he saw beyond them.
And that made all the difference.
📖 End of Chapter 11