DAIRYMAN. Our village lies on the river Shamli at the foot of
the Panch-mura hills.

AMAL. Panch-mura hills! Shamli river! I wonder. I may have
seen your village. I can't think when though!

DAIRYMAN. Have you seen it? Been to the foot of those hills?

AMAL. Never. But I seem to remember having seen it. Your
village is under some very old big trees, just by the side of the
red road--isn't that so?

DAIRYMAN. That's right, child.

AMAL. And on the slope of the hill cattle grazing.

DAIRYMAN. How wonderful! Aren't there cattle grazing in our
village! Indeed, there are!

AMAL. And your women with red sarees fill their pitchers from
the river and carry them on their heads.

DAIRYMAN. Good, that's right. Women from our dairy village do
come and draw their water from the river; but then it isn't
everyone who has a red saree to put on. But, my dear child,
surely you must have been there for a walk some time.

AMAL. Really, Dairyman, never been there at all. But the first
day doctor lets me go out, you are going to take me to your