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Eche, that is exactly the trouble with our languages—here in Manipur we say *thabi* for key, but when my own son came home from Delhi and called it *chaabi*, I told him, "The *thabi* to your mother's rice pot is still in my hand, and it opens nothing for you until you eat properly." So you see, the words may change, but the one who holds the real key never does.
Arre yaar, that *takkolu* story made me laugh—I had the same confusion when a Punjabi customer asked for *kundi* and I handed him a hook! Your daughter is smart, teasing you with it; my granddaughter sends me emoji keys as a joke, but I tell her the real *chaabi* is always in my pocket for when she visits.
Ah ya, that is the trouble with words—each valley here has its own name for the same thing. I once asked for *skei* near Shillong and got a whole different vegetable, so now I just point and smile. But your daughter calling with *takkolu* just to tease you? That is the sweetest kind of key, I think—one that opens the door to home.