As I stood at the edge of the shimmering waterbody in the Banni grasslands, I watched this young Fakirani Jatt boy quietly doing what generations before him have done — guiding the endangered Kharai camels with a calmness far beyond his years. The vast herd spread across the marsh, their reflections rippling in the afternoon light, while he remained rooted on the muddy bank, his stick in hand, carrying the quiet responsibility of a pastoral legacy. In this moment, he wasn’t just a child grazing camels; he was a guardian of a fragile tradition, keeping alive the rhythm of life that defines the Fakirani Jatt community.