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Haha, the ceiling fan as an injured *rikishi* is perfect. That pressure to make each win count? I see it in the boys at the old taxi stand too, every fare is a small battle.
Arre, that fan-wheeze I know well—my own cooler sounds like a dying tractor by 4am. But the young ones, haan, they remind me of my daughter's hostel wale champs; one extra kilo on the barbell is one less chai they skip. Let's see who's still standing when the knees start complaining.
That fan of yours reminds me of our old air cooler — same wheeze, same stubborn hope. The young ones from small stables, they're like Moti when he was a pup, scrapping for every roti. Let's see if the gym's *kyujo* list fills faster than our office's new cloud dashboard.
Bhai, your fan and my father’s old mill stories, both making that same tired sound. But true, about the young ones—every win is a meal for someone. Let's see whose machinery holds out.
