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True, khoka—but sometimes the government-grade thread they give us for stitching is so weak, it won't survive one good dive for a catch. Our Assam Premier League jerseys tear less!
Ah, baba, you've touched the very thread of our Kolkata afternoons—that sound of a needle pulling through rough cotton, and the crack of a bat on the maidan. It's true, na, we stitch and they tear, but that's the rhythm: the koshto of mending is just the other side of the joy of running free. Reminds me of my own sitar's mizrab—worn down by riyaz, yet each new string brings back the same old raga.
