It was on a cloudy day that he decided to finally step out of his house and into the fields. His father's death had been creeping slowly into his home for the past couple of months, but when it had finally happened, it was painful nonetheless. He found the house empty, but he had decided that it was still better than facing everything else that his father had left behind. 

So, there he was that day, wearing the same lungi and baniyan that he used to wear before. He couldn't help but admit and feel guilty about the fields – they looked worse than he'd ever seen them before. And he knew that it was all due to him not tending to them. He thought for a moment and decided that he'd at least try to make it better, and secretly hoped that the work would also help him keep his mind off of things.

Wrapping a dhoti around his forehead, he got to removing the weeds that were creeping up. He chuckled at the memory of his father calling them rascals for ruining their crops. Now that he thought of it, they always had fun when they were together working; singing the newest film songs that were played on the television, making fun of their dumb neighbours and their endless puns. And it all seemed to have gone by so quickly.

While reminiscing on those memories he just couldn't seem to get his head out of, he accidentally found a dry patch of land. And there he saw what looked like the most glorious footprint he had ever seen. He guessed that his father might've worked there on his last days, but he was still surprised to find it so many days later. For the first time in days, he felt his father's presence. He knew his father would've have laughed at this theory were he next to him in real life, but a small part of him still wanted to believe it to be true nonetheless. He slowly placed his own foot on the print and discovered that his foot was actually bigger than his father's.

And in a blur of moments, the footprint was gone. In place of the print, there was freshly moved soil that his very own foot displaced. He was shocked by his own actions and for a second, couldn't come up with an explanation as to why he did it. But slowly, he did smile. He remembered how his father used to say that in order to grow crops for the next season, you couldn't keep sowing the same seeds. Now he knew that his father had merely been talking about the crops that they'd been growing, but this felt like a good analogy to him. He soon found other patches of soil with weeds growing and got back to do his job. As the morning went by, the neighbours could swear that he was humming the newest song that was playing on the television, and even swore that they could hear the chorus being sung.