đź“– Chapter 30: Time, Distance, and Cost
April 1965 — Wheat Harvest Season
The mornings had started earlier than usual.
Not because the sun rose sooner—but because there was simply too much to do.
Akshy stepped out before dawn, the air still slightly cold. The oil press had already begun its slow, rhythmic sound. Workers moved quietly, half-awake, but steady.
He didn't speak much. Just checked everything—quantity, flow, wastage.
It was becoming a habit.
By 6 AM, he was already preparing to leave for Kurukshetra.
The journey was never easy.
First, a bullock cart ride to the main road. Nearly forty minutes, sometimes more if the road was muddy. Then the wait—for a crowded bus that came when it came, not when you needed it.
That day, the bus was late.
Again.
A man beside him complained loudly,
"These buses will never improve."
Akshy didn't respond.
He simply adjusted his bag and waited.
Because this—waiting, moving, adjusting—had become part of his life now.
By the time he reached college, the first class had already started.
He entered quietly, taking a seat near the back.
The professor glanced at him, then continued teaching.
A boy sitting beside him leaned over.
"You come from a village, right?"
Akshy nodded.
"That's tough. Daily travel like this?"
Akshy gave a faint smile.
"You get used to it."
But inside, he knew—he hadn't fully gotten used to it.
His body was adjusting.
His mind… was always somewhere else.
After classes, he didn't stay. Others talked, laughed, planned their day.
Akshy left early.
Because his real work was waiting.
By afternoon, he was back in the village.
Mahavir was already sitting outside, waiting.
"We need to talk about Pundri," he said directly.
They sat together with Savitri, who opened her notebook.
Everything was written neatly now. No mistakes. No confusion.
"Milk collection is increasing," she said.
"About 60–65 liters daily now."
Mahavir added,
"But not consistent. Some days less."
Akshy nodded.
"Trust is still building."
Savitri continued,
"Profit is around â‚ą25 to â‚ą30 daily."
Silence.
It wasn't bad.
But it wasn't enough either.
Then Shanti spoke from the side.
"Some milk yesterday was mixed with water."
Mahavir frowned.
"Yes. We rejected it."
Akshy thought for a moment.
Then said simply:
"From tomorrow, test it in front of them."
Mahavir looked at him.
"That might offend them."
Akshy replied calmly,
"If we don't do it now, it will become a habit later."
Mahavir didn't argue.
He understood.
Later that evening, Akshy opened another page.
This one was not for dairy.
It was for grain.
"Current storage?" he asked.
Savitri replied,
"About 45 quintals."
"And after full harvest?"
"120 to 150 quintals," she said.
Mahavir leaned forward.
"Sell now or later?"
This was not a small decision.
Selling now meant immediate money.
Waiting meant risk.
Akshy didn't hesitate.
"We store most of it."
Savitri looked surprised.
"Prices are already good."
Akshy nodded.
"They will go higher."
He didn't explain further.
But something in his tone made both of them quiet.
Two days later, he traveled to Nissing with Ramesh.
The journey felt longer this time.
Heat had increased. Roads were dusty. Buses overcrowded.
At one point, they had to walk nearly a kilometer because no transport was available.
Ramesh complained,
"If we keep traveling like this, we'll lose more time than we gain."
Akshy replied,
"That's why we don't depend on travel. We build locally."
In Nissing, they checked the land again.
Small. Not perfect.
But enough.
An old man there asked,
"Will this rice mill actually run?"
Mahavir answered firmly,
"It will."
Akshy added quietly,
"We are not starting to stop midway."
The man nodded slowly.
Agreement was done.
On the way back, Ramesh shared something important.
"Another oil press has started near the next village."
Mahavir looked concerned.
"Competition already?"
But Akshy didn't react much.
"Good," he said.
Ramesh frowned.
"How is that good?"
Akshy explained,
"It means demand exists."
Then he added,
"But we stay ahead in quality."
That night, they sat together again.
This time, the topic was money.
Savitri wrote clearly:
"Total available: around â‚ą2,800."
Mahavir sighed slightly.
"Not enough for everything."
Akshy nodded.
"We take a loan."
Silence again.
Loans were not simple.
They came with pressure.
With expectation.
With risk.
Mahavir said slowly,
"We must be careful."
Akshy replied,
"We will."
Later that night, when everyone slept, Akshy stayed awake.
He wasn't thinking about just one business anymore.
He was thinking about patterns.
Grain—seasonal.
Dairy—slow growth.
Oil—steady.
But something was missing.
Then the thought came again.
Clearer this time.
"Eggs…"
Fast production.
Daily supply.
Less waiting.
He sat up slightly.
A small poultry setup near the road.
Not too big.
Not too small.
Close enough for transport.
Far enough to manage.
He didn't decide immediately.
But the idea stayed.
Because now, he wasn't just reacting.
He was preparing.