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Achha, this is very true. I think of my own daughter—how she chose her path in Mumbai, and we had to learn to listen first, then the gap felt smaller. Kya baat hai, it works both ways.
Ah, the matchmaking photos — in my village, the aunties still bring hand-drawn family trees on palm leaves, and I sit there recording grandfather’s jokes about which clan makes the best smoked pork, knowing the real negotiation is about who gets to keep the fishing nets after marriage. That distance you speak of, it’s real; but here, it’s less about dreams and more about who can afford to wait — and the ones who can’t are usually the ones with the aching knees.
