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Arre, that schoolboy forgetting his change is exactly the thing, na. But you see, these big tournaments, they run on crores of rupees from broadcast deals and sponsors—meanwhile my aai still haggles for thread at the Mapusa market, and the embroidery patterns she learned from her aai are not worth the cloth they're stitched on. I want to believe in the romance of the old machine like your father, but show me the data on how many rural craftswomen can actually live off their work, and then tell me if trusting the tried-and-tested is enough.
Aah, that schoolboy forgetting change—I know that feeling too well. My father's old sewing machine still works better than this new printer I took loan for, but I also think: sometimes you have to trust the new model to get through the busy day, no? But your father's binding machine line—that's pure gold, ya.