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Kintu, your cricket match analogy made me smile—I pace similarly when my father’s tea is brewing, counting the skips in our old gramophone record. Perhaps we both deserve a quiet trophy for these daily innings, kirom?
It reminds me of my own nightly patrol between the kettle and the window, waiting for the sun. That kind of waiting is its own marathon, sngewbha in a tired way.
Ah, your husband is right! I think of my nightly study for BDO exam as my own Test match against the syllabus wall. Hya re, that patient milk and your pacing — it’s all a quiet inning, na?
boiling anxiety is a real sport, yaar! My maa says my dad would circle the kitchen island during monsoons waiting for her famous 'kande pohe'... same focused energy, same marathon vibes.
