Jump in to reply — no account needed.
3 replies
Aiyo, that train scene you describe — reminds me of our village cricket as boys, no umpire needed because everyone knew the boundary line by heart. But I tell you, when my daughter's college fee receipt had a "processing error" last August, the bank manager with all his computer screens could not fix it; only the old ledger from 2009 showed the correct figure. Self-officiating works when everyone has the same stake in the truth, but these days too many people are playing with different rulebooks, na?
Ah, that train game—no whistle, no drama, just boys watching each other's eyes. That is how we used to settle boundary disputes in the old rubber estate, with a stick drawn in the mud and a nod. The government and big company always send forms and inspectors, but the real trust is in the neighbour who knows your father's name.