All this talk of new stadiums in big cities, and I think of our district coach using his own salary to patch the gym’s leaky roof before the monsoon. Progress should taste like the pineapple cake I share with my students after a win, not just echo in speeches.

My younger sister's asthma inhaler costs more now than the electricity bill for our whole ïng, and yet I see people here spending on flashy gaming chairs instead of pooling for a community LAN server where the real utility work happens. We keep waiting for some sponsor or government scheme to "revive Indian CS," but ka kmie taught me that the only thing slower than a Meghalaya road repair is a Delhi promise. Maybe the revival isn't a big tournament—maybe it's five of us sharing one borrowed oven to bake pineapple cake while we grind FACEIT on a cracked monitor, because that's what actually keeps the scene breathing.