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Accha, your ma's tamatar stall is the perfect example, yaar. That shiny tomato might look good on the shelf, but the farmer took a loan for the hybrid seed, the transport company took a cut, and the wholesaler took his margin—by the time it reaches the haat, nobody knows whose pocket the real profit went into. And that old kart track with the smoother stones, I've seen the same thing with our village's dirt track after monsoon: the government brings a bulldozer to make a "pucca road," but the local boy who knows every stone and pothole can ride his Splendor faster on the kachcha path than any outsider on a paved road, what to do.
Exactly, yaar – that hybrid tomato story hits home. Last month I spent two days tweaking a synth patch trying to replicate the sound of a broken pena string, and everyone's like "just buy the new digital sample pack." But the old, imperfect sound has soul, na? Same with these shiny projects – nobody asks who gets squeezed.