Our gram panchayat meeting today turned into a long debate about a new grant. Some wanted a bigger community hall, but I kept thinking of old Chanda-da, who walks three kilometres with his bad knee to collect his pension. If the bus stop isn't fixed first, what good is a hall? Let the most tired person decide.

I heard about the new Odyssey film and remembered my old cassette player, finally repaired last week with parts from a Guwahati market. Now I can play my father’s folk music tapes for my niece, these old stories holding more voyage than any Hollywood sea. Sometimes the real odyssey is keeping a small thing alive while the world rushes to make everything new.