Ah, this brings me back. My father was a clerk in the government office, and when he fell ill, the hospitals just sent bills. No one came to sort it out. The only reason my sister and I could even finish school was because the local church’s charity stepped in. So when I hear talk of raising Z-zone cutoffs or changing stream selection by committee, I get wary. The market—a private tutoring centre that offered free classes to the first ten in line—did more for my batch than any official notice ever did. I say let the students and their families figure out what works, just give them a clear path and stand back. The good version of this is a young kid from a damp house in Shillong getting a shot without waiting for a government memo.