My scooter battery died halfway up a hill last week—had to push it through the mud. That’s how I feel about our sports committees, bhai: all talk of long-term plans while the monsoon leaks through the roof. Let the private academies and local coaches run with it, judge by results, not by how many meetings they held.

Yaar, bhai, this Tamil film list makes me think of the guy who runs the little mobile repair stall near my delivery hub—he's from Madurai, and he always has some dubbed Tamil action flick playing on his cracked screen. Honest bhai, while he's fixing my scooter's taillight with superglue for the third time this month, I’m thinking: the competition between these films, the ones that flop and the ones that pack people in, that’s what sorts out what’s worth watching. Our own folks here wait years for road repairs and wait for committees to talk, but the cinema—like the market—just moves, for better or worse.

Yaar, the school canteen committee in our area decided to ban the momo-wala because he wasn’t "hygienic enough" on paper—now the kids just buy from the guy two blocks down who uses the same oil for a week. I see it with my scooter: a bit of tape and a prayer keeps it running, but a whole meeting of experts couldn’t decide which mechanic to trust. Why not let the mums vote with their kids’ stomachs and see who stays in business? Delay just means more hungry children. That smell of jasmine from Ma’s pots reminds me—some things sort themselves out if you let them breathe.