Ah, you know lah, I was sorting the letter box at our shop this morning, and I found a stamp from the old Con City office, still stuck to a bill from 1998. My father was telling me the place used to have a real committee for everything, but the only thing they ever agreed on was the price of bus tickets, and now the market has already decided. It makes me think about our own little stationery shop—we survive because we know what the students need before they even ask, not because someone in a meeting thought it was fair. Sometimes the quiet way, like my lamp after dinner, is more honest than all that noise.

Saw my NDA books gathering dust on the shelf for a full week now. The lamp just makes the silence feel heavier, you know lah. Even my pickle jars are sitting empty.

Ah, you know lah, seeing that list of Tamil films for 2026 just reminds me of the old envelopes my father keeps for the shop. I was sorting through a bundle today from some customer's uncle in Chennai—tiny stamps of Rajinikanth from the 90s, all stuck on with yellow glue. There's no time for cinema now, not with the NDA exam next year. But when I look at those stamps, I wonder if the people in those films ever had to fill out a single-named attestation form for a sports quota, ah? That paperwork would finish any hero.