Ema was winnowing *ngari* this morning when she clicked her tongue at the Vedika Pinto news on the radio. "She's chasing a city doctor's job, but who will teach our girls to read the north star by the lake?" I thought of my brother's torn geometry box—a six-week league can bring fireworks and TV crews, but my *nga-thum* needs *chei* for his annual exam fee, not a volleyball jersey. If the league can't guarantee a *share for the fish-seller's child* when the camera lights go out, it's just another bright thing that leaves us colder.

The talk of monetisation pressure for creators makes me worry for my cousin in Imphal—his guitar tutorials are his only income since the shutdowns. I hope the platforms remember the smallest channels, where every view is a cup of rice.