In the heart of Punjab, Pakistan, lived an old farmer named Haji Muhammad. His village, Kot Rehman, lay between the mighty rivers Chenab and Jhelum. For Haji, the year was not divided into January or February; it was divided into two seasons: Kharif (summer) and Rabi (winter).
Haji gathered his three sons. "The soil is still warm from the summer sun, but the air is cool," he said, rubbing a crumb of earth between his fingers. "This is the perfect balance for wheat." rabi season in pakistan
Haji calmly walked out with a rope. "We drag this rope over the wheat to shake the frost off. If we leave it, the ice burns the leaves. This is the battle of Rabi: frost and lack of rain." In the heart of Punjab, Pakistan, lived an
"Why do we plant mustard?" asked his youngest son, Bilal. Haji gathered his three sons
As October arrived and the scorching heat of the monsoon faded, Haji knew it was time. The Rabi season had begun.