Bunder Rice Mill

Down in Mohammed Bunder, in the Tanjore District, is where we run the rice mill. It’s been here for quite some time, and the building shows its age, but the machinery still hums along just fine. Being in Tanjore, everything revolves around the harvest seasons. When the rice starts coming in, the whole place turns into a whirlwind of activity. There’s dust everywhere, and the smell of raw grain is something you never quite get out of your clothes. We don't have a front desk or a receptionist. If someone needs us, they just walk into the main bay and shout for one of us. Bunder Rice Mill isn't a place for suits; it’s a place for boots and sweat. We spend a lot of time looking at the weather, hoping for dry days so the grain stays good. The floor is usually covered in husks, and we sweep it out every evening, only for it to be covered again by ten the next morning. Most of our workers live right nearby, so it feels more like a big family than a company. We eat together under the shade of the trees when the sun gets too hot. There’s no big strategy here, just milling the rice and making sure the sacks are filled properly. It’s simple, repetitive work, but it’s what we know best. We keep the machines oiled and the floors as clean as we can manage.