"Well then, pray tell, what exactly are your intentions for this village, young man?" Grandfather Har asked, his voice tinged with an earnest seriousness that betrayed the weight of his curiosity.
"My plan," Havi began, his words tumbling out with youthful vigour, "is to build a waterwheel!"
"A waterwheel?!" Old Har's voice was laced with disbelief, his furrowed brow betraying his utter lack of comprehension. "And what in the world do you mean to do with a waterwheel?" he inquired, his confusion deepening by the moment.
"Grandfather, it is no ordinary waterwheel," Havi explained, his eyes alight with a gleam of hope. "I wish to construct a waterwheel by the Wira waterfall."
Old Har, a man whose education had never stretched beyond the rudiments of reading and writing, stared at Havi blankly. "A waterwheel? What for?" His voice, though not unkind, held a simplicity born of years lived without the benefit of deeper knowledge.
Havi stood momentarily dumbfounded, his mouth slightly agape. Could it be that the old man did not understand, even in the clearest terms? he wondered, his mind reeling at the thought.
But after a beat, a quiet realisation settled over him, and he sighed gently. It was then that he understood. In these times, the mere ability to read and write was an accomplishment in itself.
To pursue further learning beyond these basic skills was a rare luxury. The gap between generations of knowledge seemed wider than he had anticipated, but he did not begrudge it.
Instead, he found a tenderness in the realisation, his heart softening with the understanding of the vast differences that shaped the lives of those before him.
Havi paused for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He had anticipated this conversation, but the gravity of what he was about to propose weighed heavily on him.
With a calmness that belied the flutter of his heart, he addressed the old man. "So, you see, Grandfather Har," Havi began, drawing in a steadying breath.
He was determined to explain his plans in the simplest yet most detailed way possible, for the sake of a man who had never ventured beyond the rudiments of education.
"Before I go any further," Havi said, "I must first ask, Have you ever seen a waterwheel?"
The question hung in the air, but before the words could fully settle, a blow landed sharply on Havi's head. "Are you mocking me, boy? Just because I never finished school doesn't mean I've never seen a waterwheel!" Grandfather Har's voice cracked with indignation, his eyes flashing with unspoken reproach.
Havi, taken aback by the sudden outburst, blinked and shook his head in disbelief. "Grandfather, I was only asking!" he said, a tinge of frustration creeping into his voice.
"Well, continue then!" came the gruff command, as Har's impatience revealed itself.
With a resigned nod, Havi pressed on, determined not to let the moment slip away. "Do you know what a waterwheel is used for?" he inquired gently.
Grandfather Har paused, a perplexed frown knitting his brow as he pondered the question. "I... I'm not quite sure," he admitted at last. "Perhaps as some sort of toy or decoration. People these days are doing all sorts of strange things, you know."
Havi's shoulders sagged in disbelief. He let out a thin, exasperated smile. "That's why I asked in the first place," he muttered under his breath, his irritation barely contained. "But you hit me instead. You old fool," he added quietly, half-jesting, half-serious.
"I still have ears that work, you know!" Grandfather Har retorted sharply, his fingers scratching at one ear as he chuckled, revealing a lone tooth that remained among the ruins of his smile.
Havi blinked in surprise, his murmured complaint apparently having been heard. "Legendary, truly," he thought with a touch of admiration. After a brief pause, he continued. "So, Grandfather, my plan is to build a waterwheel using these simple materials. These logs here."
He gestured to the collection of logs he had gathered, his voice growing more animated. "You see, our village has yet to be connected to the electricity grid. Who knows when the government will get around to reaching this far? I intend to hasten that process. I want to build this waterwheel because, you see, one of its uses is as a generator of electricity. And, of course, it's not just the wheel itself, there are other components involved. If this works, about forty households could have light at night!"
Grandfather Har sat in stunned silence for a moment, his old mind struggling to grasp the full extent of Havi's words.
He might not have understood the theory behind it all, but the concept itself, a waterwheel generating power, was something he could now begin to fathom.
Nodding slowly, Grandfather Har seemed to contemplate the plan in a way that Havi had not expected.
The silence stretched on before Har spoke again, his voice quieter now, more contemplative. "Your speech is quite impressive, young man. The plan... it's certainly a good one. But I must ask, who, pray tell, will build this waterwheel?"
Havi fell silent, taken aback by the directness of the question. He had indeed overlooked this vital detail. After a pause, he squared his shoulders and declared, "I will build it myself!"
Grandfather Har's brow arched sceptically, his gaze sharp. "Can you? You know how to do this, do you?"
Havi's expression was resolute. "I may not have practised it before, but I know the theory. And that will suffice. I will learn as I go," he said, the fire of determination igniting in his chest.
The old man snorted with some amusement. "Ah, young fool. Building something like that is not as easy as you think."
Havi raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Any advice, then?"
"Advice?" Har's eyes twinkled. "Yes, indeed. Perhaps you should ask someone who's actually built such a thing before!"
A spark of excitement lit Havi's eyes. "Do you know anyone who can make a waterwheel, Grandfather? Someone who knows how?"
Grandfather Har's face grew serious, his gaze distant as he thought for a moment. "If you're asking about my old friends... rest assured, they're all gone now. The men who could make such things, they've all passed on," he said, his voice tinged with a sadness that Havi hadn't anticipated.
Havi felt a pang in his chest, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. "What a shame," he muttered, shaking his head.
"But," Grandfather Har continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "there is one person still alive today who could help."
Havi's heart leapt. "Really? Who? Who is it, Grandfather?" he asked eagerly, barely able to contain his excitement.
Har leaned forward, his voice low but firm. "It's me," he replied simply.
Havi froze, his mouth falling open in stunned silence. "You?" he stammered, his mind racing to comprehend the implications.
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