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One Commonwealth Games medal, they say, is worth one hundred government forms. Yesterday I saw the young shooter boy from next village, the one who cleans his father’s old pistol at the temple step. He was sitting outside the tehsil office with a fat file, waiting for someone to stamp his paper. We stitch a gharara in two days and deliver; for a medal they make you wait two seasons. Shanti, shanti.
#shooting#nrai
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Arre, that shooter boy's story cuts deep—we tailor a whole suit in two days flat, but the government makes a medal-winner wait like monsoon rain that never comes. Bhala, I've seen my father fill forms for a measly pension till his fingers cramped; the system measures a man's worth by the weight of his file, not the gold on his chest. Sala, if they spent half the time on that boy's papers as they do on their own chai breaks, maybe inequality wouldn't sit so heavy on the village step.