Feb 11, 2015 – Early Morning
A thin veil of mist clung to the valley as the MC stood on the ridge, hands in his pockets, looking down at the bare, freshly turned earth. The clearing work from the previous weeks had left the land raw and exposed, but in his mind's eye, it was already alive — a place where mango trees would bloom in summer, apples would blush red in autumn, and sandalwood's gentle perfume would linger in the air for decades.
The sun's first light caught the frost on the ground, turning it into a glittering carpet. His breath formed clouds as he spoke softly to Aarya, the AI, about the orchard's final planting pattern.
> "Make sure we leave enough distance between the mango rows. I don't want their roots to fight."
Aarya's calm voice replied in his earpiece,
> "Spacing adjusted. Estimated yield in year five will exceed 1.2 metric tons annually."
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Feb 14, 2015 – Afternoon
The first batch of saplings arrived — rare mango cultivars from Ratnagiri, Kashmiri apple trees, Himachali cherries, and a handful of Australian sandalwood seedlings. He had brought them from his hidden dimension the night before, kept in perfect stasis so they arrived looking as if freshly pulled from nature itself.
Workers unloaded them with care, murmuring among themselves. None of them knew that these trees were genetically perfected to resist most common plant diseases.
The MC rolled up his sleeves and joined them in the planting. He pressed his palms into the cool, fragrant soil, feeling the weight of the moment. It wasn't about money — it was about creating something that would outlive him.
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Village Side POV – Feb 17, 2015
Ramesh, a middle-aged farmer, watched from the boundary fence. He chewed slowly on a piece of sugarcane, wondering why this young man — who clearly had money — was bothering to get his own hands dirty. In his village, rich people didn't plant trees. They bought land and left it empty until they could sell it for more.
That night, Ramesh's wife asked what he'd seen. He told her,
> "He planted the mango himself. Maybe he's not like the others."
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Feb 20–Feb 25, 2015 – Quiet Progress
Each day began before sunrise. The MC oversaw the planting of neat, geometric rows — mangoes to the south, apples and cherries to the north, sandalwood in carefully guarded corners where no casual visitor could wander. Underground, Aarya's irrigation system was already in place, drawing from the rediscovered spring beneath the property.
Birdsong began to return. The scent of fresh earth mixed with the sweet aroma of composting mulch. Even the workers seemed to move differently — slower, almost reverent, as though they sensed the land was waking.
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Feb 28, 2015 – Closing Scene
The last tree went into the ground just as the sun dipped behind the pine slopes. He stood alone in the fading light, hands streaked with soil, gazing over the rows of young saplings. Aarya's voice was soft in his ear:
> "This orchard will stand for a century if maintained."
He smiled faintly.
> "Good. Then it'll remember me even when the world forgets."
The wind moved through the valley, carrying the first scent of blossoms that hadn't yet bloomed.