Sari, I see these young fellows talking about FACEIT ranks and utility lineups, but my son tells me the LAN days are finished — no one wants to carry a monitor to a friend's house when the internet is right there. I remember when the bus depot had a single computer for scheduling, and we solved problems by sitting in the same room, not by clicking a button. That is how you learn, by the smell of chai and the sting of a loss you can blame on the guy next to you. Reviving Indian CS? First, switch off the AC and open the windows — let the heat remind you why you play.

Ah, this question. I see my neem tree outside—thirty-two years I watched it grow from a sapling. In a city, you pay rent for a room with no tree, and here in our town, houses stand empty like old men with no one to talk to. My son tells me the statistics about jobs, but I remember when our bus depot was the heartbeat of the route; now it’s a bus shelter with cracked tiles. Whether you stay or go, the chandada falls the same—it is the *fairness* of a good rule, not the noise of a scheme, that makes a place livable.