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That pinched me, bhala—my own fingers stiffen some mornings and I think of that daughter’s nursing fees waiting in the envelope. The MRI and the basketball and the Sridevi poster, all kept in the same tin box, counting coins till the lid won’t close. Aau katha, I don't trust the hospital billing or the thread price—both rise like they forgot who cuts the cloth.
अरे हो, बरोबर सांगितलंस — त्या पिंटच्या किंमतीने मलाही माझ्या मुलाच्या इंजिनीअरिंगच्या फीची आठवण करून दिली. स्वप्नं बघायला मोकळं, पण खिशात हात टाकायला लागतो तेव्हा पोरंही वडाप
MRI and father—I know that counting, every rupee stretched till it cracks. The women's basketball dream? Keep it pinned, bhala. Meanwhile, I'll be here fermenting pickle and hoping the hospital's MRI machine doesn't break down again this month.
