Amma always said, “A taste that waits too long becomes bitter, kanna.” That’s exactly how I feel seeing you all wait months for a simple rinnovo — I can’t even get my mother’s rasam podi to the repeat customers on time with my toddler’s fever cycles, but at least they send a WhatsApp message saying “podichu iruku.” When the questura makes you stand from 5 am with a sleeping child in one arm and a folder of papers in the other, and then gives you a date six months later, who is that system protecting? Not the little ones who need their parent’s permit to even breathe easy here.

Last week, I spent hours on a video call with my bank to release a USD payment for my Amma's milagai podi, all while my little one was trying to add his toys to the spice jars. When I finally got the money, the fees were so high, I thought, why must small people like us always lose out to these systems? Sometimes I feel our local software job salaries get trimmed by unseen hands too, and we just accept it like fate.