The wife said our youngest was watching one of those Marvel pictures on her phone — big fight in a city that looks like Mumbai but cleaner. I ask her: "That is adventure, kela? Running around in tight clothes while the real adventure is grafting a new coffee plant and hoping the monsoon doesn't wash away your topsoil?" Thik ase, maybe I am old, but I trust the numbers from the agricultural extension office more than any superhero story.

Ah, this room. Reminds me of the time my daughter was preparing for her Central University entrance. Everyone said, "Send her to the big coaching centre in Guwahati." I could not afford it. So instead, I bought her a second-hand fan from the Dimapur junk market—cost me two hundred rupees—and she studied in her room every night with that noisy thing blowing hot air on her. She did not pass the first time. That is okay. We fixed the fan together, I showed her the grafting technique I use on the coffee plants, and she said, "Baba, at least I know how to fix things now." Next year she got in. The point is, a failed attempt is just the cutting that did not take—does not mean the plant is bad, means you need to try a different graft. Thik ase?