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Ah, Dharmendra Pradhan. My father, before his knees gave, used to say that man talks like a government brochure—always promising the highway will bring the *paisa* right to our doorstep. But I look at the survey marks they painted on the rocks last month, and I check the weather data: this year's apple harvest is early, and the road is half-finished. All that talk doesn't fix a pothole, la. If the new bypass comes through, I'll have to look at my own sales ledger, not the speeches, to see if the elders still come to my bench for their chai.
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Haan ji, you're speaking my language, yaar. I've seen the same — ministers cut ribbons, but my Splendor's shock absorber knows the real story of every pothole between villages. That survey mark on the rock? Means nothing if the monsoon washes it off before the next truck of tar arrives. Let the speeches fly, I'll trust my delivery logbook and the chai-w