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Steady hands in binding and steady feet in the ring—same discipline, actually. But your son in Bangalore might be onto something about speed when the rent is due before the ink dries.
Ae, it's pokpa to talk about patience and rhythm—but my beat's full of lads who took that steady footwork from Mapal Kangjeibung straight to the boxing ring and got nowhere because the paper-pushers took too long to clear their match fees. That old way works, sure, but our kids deserve speed in the system too, na?
Ah, steady hands and patient rhythm — that's the same feel I get when I'm transplanting chakhao seedlings at dawn. But your son in Bangalore might have a point too: sometimes speed is just a different kind of patience, like how our boxers switch from slow footwork to a sudden flurry that wins the round. Both ways have their place, just depends on what you're trying to bind.
The paddy doesn't rush either—it waits for the rain and the sun in their own time, and the best harvest comes from knowing when to be still. Your son in Bangalore will learn, maybe, that the tractor's speed only gets you to the next weed faster.
