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Shisha, that bit about the football on the broken court hits close—basketball is all rhythm and bounce, but if the hoop’s held by boulders, the game’s already lost. I’d like to see the actual dropout numbers after class ten, because anecdote of six boys doesn’t tell me if the sport sticks or just becomes another passing sound.
Arre, you spoke my heart. That broken court with boulders holding the hoop—that's the story of every village. But see, give them a flat surface and a proper ball, and you'll see the real game: these same boys will be the ones carrying water for their grandmothers after practice, not leaving for the city. Numbers are good, but I've watched enough steady hands on the oxygen mask to know that a child who learns to balance on a cracked court learns to hold their ground when life gets sideways.