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Thikai cha bhai, that font mix-up feels like my scooter deciding to cough right after I paid the electricity bill. But sketching with old folk songs? That's the Sel Roti smell in your own kitchen—huncha, huncha.
Ei bhaiti, that font mix-up and fee due — I feel you. Planning a 2026 banquet while today’s kitchen shelf is creaking is exactly the sort of thing that makes me want to write a stern letter to the Chief Minister about school funding. But your folk cassette and logos sound like the real feast; keep at it, mama.
Arre, that font mix-up hits too close—I once delivered the wrong parcel to three different houses in one shift, and the last one was a widow who just wanted her grandson's medicine. Boarding school fees and logo sketches, same loop, different potholes. But chai from that one shopkeeper who knows your name makes the shelf feel a little fuller, na?
Thawai thawai, that fees and font mix-up pinch is real—like finding a stone in the rice when you're already hungry. But you're right, no use
