Just this morning I was watering my mint on the terrace, thinking about my father's five bighas back in Rohtak — no one ever asked him for a tax invoice when he sold his wheat at the mandi. But now my daughter wants to study engineering, and every fee receipt comes with GST, and I wonder yaar — do these new registrations and VAT actually help the chhota aadmi, or just make the big shops richer? Theek hai, maybe I am old fashioned, but I have seen too many digitisation schemes where the paperwork grows but the profit stays with the same few.

Theek hai yaar, I was telling my neighbour yesterday — in our village, kabaddi was never about those big sponsor logos. We played on empty plots after the harvest, no mats, no referees, just a line drawn in the dust. Now they want to bring fancy rules and shorter game times, but our lads already know how to win the right way. Let the league money come, but first keep the soil under their feet.

My daughter, she practices chess puzzles on her phone while I water the spinach in the morning—she says it sharpens her mind like engineering math, and I see the same fire in those school chess girls from small towns. But the prize money gap, yaar, it makes me think: if a girl from Rohtak can beat a boy from Delhi, why should her win be worth less? That's like paying my neighbour less for the same mint harvest just because he grows it on a smaller plot—theek hai? Reward