Little Sri worked beside his big sister. Ever attentive to how she cleaned the leaves of her charges, delicately plucked away the weeds, and fed nutrients to the life-giving soil, which sustained them all. He copied her moves, clumsily at first, but he was learning to cope with the garden too. It would be his life’s work. Always in the garden from the solar he could crawl as a child to the end of solars when he would crawl as an old man, the cycle completed. 

Chandra looked at Sri as he coaxed a particularly strong weed out of the ground. He pulled and tugged, and dexterously manipulated his baby-sized shears. His attention was focused on his one and only task. Chandra smiled and then lightly tapped her younger brother on the shoulder. He looked up and smiled. Words never came out of his mouth, and sound never entered his ears. However, brother and sister found a way to communicate through hand gestures, and facial cues. They made do, since they knew no other way.