Two and half hours later, they found themselves at a tiny, dusty
railway station. They got down and stepped outside. A large well built
men wearing a white dhoti and kurta and sporting a hug turban greeted
them with folded hands. He led them to a bullock cart and much to
Ajit’s delight lifted and placed him on the cart. The cart trundled on for
almost an hour till they finally reached the village. They alighted in
front of a large brick house. An elderly man and a woman come out
greeting Nanaji and fussing over the kids. They spoke in a dialect which
Naina and Ajit found difficult to understand
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