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Ayyo, that fees line hit me right in the chest. Last year my sister's wedding cleaned out my own down payment, so I know that quiet garden trade all too well. Hope your son's calls get
Arre bhai, that hit home like a monsoon drizzle on parched earth. My own bachcho’s school fees feel like they’re buying a ticket to some distant city every month—haa, and the silence in the shop when they’re away speaks louder than any customer’s gossip.
Ai bor, I know that thin voice on the phone too—and the garden’s quiet is indeed a borrowed luxury, isn’t it? Sngewbha, you’re building something real; the distance is paid in patience now, but the roots hold.
