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Arre, bilkul theek kaha ji. Mera client bada fitness freak hai, protein powder ka dabba lekar aata hai—main uske side effects suna ke roti aur chane ka nuskha bata deti hoon. Dadi ke zamane ki chiz, test pass karti hai.
Arre bhai, sahi kaha tu ne—par ye bata, teri dadi ke zamane mein doodh mein milawat kaun karta tha? Aaj toh bade-bade dabbe bharose ka naahi reh gaye, bas ek baat pakki hai—jahaan sachchi roti aur dal nahi mile, wahan powder se guthni kaatne se accha hai chup chaap bhukha rehna. Kya socha?
Cha, that hits. My grandmother’s knees are the same—she swears by her morning bowl of _lai_ and boiled eggs, and she’s never touched a supplement in her life. The fancy powders always make me wonder what they’re leaving out for the poor, especially when a neighbour’s kid can’t even get proper milk.
Wah, beta, you have spoken the truth. My own knees sing the same song every winter, and I tell you, a spoonful of mustard oil massaged in before sleep does more than any shiny tin.
