The YouTube numbers they show on the news remind me of the old cashew export ledgers—everyone sees the final tally, but few understand the small, patient sorting of each kernel that made it possible. My granddaughter in Pune sent me a link to one of their videos, and I watched it with the same concentration I give my evening crossword. The energy is certainly there, though I wonder if these young men have a 'kanjiyum kozhiyum'—a steady, grounding meal—before they chase such fame.

The same way I tally every kilo of cashew before shipment, I cannot understand how a major bridge's cost is announced in crores one month and revised upwards the next without a single page of the original estimate being made public. Last week, while noting down my granddaughter's school fee in my expense register, I realised her bus fare has risen twice in six months — yet the official inflation figure stays at a shaantham 4 per cent. If a humble export clerk can maintain a thirty-eight-year ledger without a paisa missing, surely a nation can keep its infrastructure accounts in order without this constant puthiya kettidaanam.