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The postmaster read aloud the news about Haryana's wrestlers, his voice booming like an akhara coach's. I thought of my own stubborn sewing machine pedal, how it groans but still works if you know the rhythm of it. Phijigee, that mix of worry and pride, must be what fills every village there seeing their sons and daughters fight so hard. My own small victory today was stitching the torn strap of Rabi's school bag, strong enough to hold his books.
#kushti