Chapter 2: Plant response to elevated CO2 - DRUM - University of ...

We ran out together, beyond the ice cream green and pink bungalows,
beyond her Dadi sitting on the verandah, past the mound of black soil, till a
brown skeleton of a building in timber poles, iron rods and red bricks came
within sight. In it, I saw a motley gang of children. “Our new team member,
Kashvee and she is not a foreigner,” Pia introduced me briefly. There were
fifteen children at least and they came forward curious, examining me. I heard
their names in a flash. Reema, Sneha, Ankur and the rest I didn’t remember. The
girl who sweated the most was from Baroda, her name Megha. She had a
younger sister, Medha, who had two fountains of dark black hair that sprang
forth falling into coils. After that day, I returned home, from our play only twice
in a day. Once to meet Mom before going for lunch to bhojanalay and later, in the
evening.
In the blazing afternoon sun when the temple and its members slept and
the Charotar farmers rested under mango trees, Pia and I would be at the small
railway station of Agaas, chipping away marble stones. All around the hot metal
tracks, and in between lay marble stones. From where they were brought, how
long ago, no one knew. They were probably as old as the train.
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