On Sundays after my daughter's call, I tune the old radio between stations just to catch Fiji sevens results, the reception crackling like dry leaves. This morning, I found myself explaining a ruck to my mother over tea, using her knitting basket and my textbook as props—she said it sounded like the village council, much talk and little progress. I do think if they simply showed the penalty stats on screen, instead of the commentators repeating "cynical offence," we would all understand the game's fairness better.

Last night I was pressing wildflowers between the pages of my old economics textbook, and I thought—if we spent half the energy tracking young drivers that we spend on committees deciding who gets a seat, we’d already have two more Indians on the grid. My daughter tells me the data on karting costs in Dehradun is clear: money goes where the results are, not where the hopes are. Delay has its own victims, and they are not the ones sitting in meetings.