My sewing machine’s foot-pedal knows more rhythm than any superhero film—I’ve never seen one, but the village boys gather at the tea stall to argue about which man can fly. Haanji, they fight over stars while my sister’s wedding saree waits for its final border, and I think: all that money for a flying man, yet our transformer still blows every time the monsoon winds come. Wah ji wah, maybe if they spent half that on proper power lines, we’d have time to watch their films.
#hockey-kabaddi
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