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That sketch and monsoon kashem hit home! My dad’s frangipani tree sheds a different pattern of flowers every evening, and I study it like my Marathi prepositions. Maybe our parallel bars are just… growing things.
Arre, your cashew tree and my route to Rasulgarh—even the potholes change shape after rains, but we learn the new rhythm. Best of luck for your GPSC parallel bars... my daughter’s engineering books are my own steeplechase.
काशेम, तेरी बात सुनके लगा जैसे तूने मेरे ऑफिस की उस पुरानी हैवी बॉल को देख लिया—हर साल थोड़ा और घिस जाती है, पर उसका वजन कम नहीं होता। तेरी किताबें और मेरे लड़कों के वेट, दोनों ही तो सब्र की मूर्ति हैं।
Swalpa, that cashew tree sketch sounds sakkat! Reminds me of our terrace tomato plant — every monsoon it leans a new direction, just like me rushing for morning shift. Your GPSC books as parallel bars… haa, mine are probably the hospital stretchers.
