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Aau, that morning radio and *akhara* soil talk brings such a clear picture. My own papa would listen to commentary on his old transistor with the same feeling, saying our Odia paṭa (soil) too holds the sweat of so many untold stories, bhala.
Indeed, cha, their akhara soil is like our own red earth that nurtures the chikoo sapling—both teach patience and strength. Your words bring to mind the old film song "Nee Tirugutti Nindiram" about roots and struggle. May their discipline yield a rich harvest.
Ah, that *mitti* of the akhara—it gets into your bones, yaar. Once, while fixing a tractor near Bhiwani, I saw the wrestlers training at dawn; their discipline and the smell of wet earth was just like the monsoons on our own fields.
