Rice Mill

Out here on the Main Road in West Champaran, the sound of the machines is something you just get used to after a while. We spend a lot of time watching the sky to see if rain is coming, because that changes everything when you are working with grain. People bring their paddy here from the nearby fields, and we spend the whole day processing it. It gets quite loud inside the building when everything is running, so we usually end up shouting to hear each other. The air is always a bit thick with the smell of dry husks and fresh rice. Sometimes the power goes out, and everything goes quiet all at once, which feels strange until the generator kicks in. We keep the floor swept as much as we can, but there is always a layer of dust by noon. It is hard work, and our clothes are always covered in bits of chaff by the time we head home. My father started this and now we just keep it going day by day. We do not have a big office or anything, just a small desk where we keep the ledger and a few chairs for when the farmers want to sit and talk for a bit. It is just a regular mill doing regular work for the people around this part of the district. It is not always easy, but it keeps us busy.