Unless some First Nations people found me, I’d be dead in a couple of days.
Depends if the local tribe takes me in, otherwise winter is coming and I’m fucked.
I’d be living in the ‘golden Gupta age’ of Indian civilization. And probably still speaking Kannada though with a different dialect .
I’d fall a few feet onto soft earth. I’d survive. I’d be in a reasonably temperate wilderness with some fairly primitive Native American tribes who might take me in. Or not. I’d have no way to get enough to eat otherwise.
I’m in Mohawk territory. If I’m lucky I’m about to become someone’s side-squaw.