Hulk, his skin a friendly shade of green and wearing a simple white kurta-pajama, walks hand-in-hand with his mom, who glows in a vibrant sari of red and yellow. Their feet press softly into the cool, muddy path. "Look, Amma! The mangoes are almost ripe," his voice rumbles with excitement yet carries a gentle warmth.

His mom squeezes his large hand and smiles up at him, her eyes twinkling. "Yes, beta, soon we'll pluck the juiciest ones for pickles. You remember how much you love them?" Hulk's cheeks flush a deeper green, and he laughs, a sound that echoes across the fields.

"Amma, do you think the village will always be this peaceful?" His mom leans against him, her sari fluttering in the breeze. "As long as we care for it and for each other, my dear, peace will always find us," she replies, her voice soft as a lullaby.

"Come on, Amma! Let’s join them," Hulk grins, sweeping his mom up in a gentle, playful spin. "Careful, beta! You're stronger than you think!" she laughs, her joy infectious.

Hulk gently lifts a small boy onto his shoulders, careful not to frighten him. The boy squeals with delight as he reaches for a low-hanging mango. "See, together we can reach anything," Hulk says, his voice filled with pride.

His mom takes his hand once more, and they walk back home, hearts full and smiles wide. "This is happiness, my son," she murmurs, her words floating on the evening breeze. Hulk nods, looking around at the village he loves, knowing he is exactly where he belongs.