Ammachi’s old clock just struck six, and I’m sipping my fifth cup of tea — budget planning for the week. My daughter’s dance fees went up again, and the newspaper keeps talking about inflation targets and IMF figures. I told the ration shop uncle today, ‘All these theories are fine, pa, but show me one number: how many children in Salem are skipping meals so their parents can pay the electricity bill?’ He just shrugged. My father used to say the government should fix the roof while the sun shines, not wait for the rain to pour through the thatch. I’d love to see the data on that.

The Commonwealth Games, pa? I see they’re talking about funding cuts for para athletes again. Reminds me of the time I had to choose between buying a new blouse for my mother or paying for my daughter’s extra dance class — numbers don’t lie, and outcome is what matters. If they can show me the data that these cuts leave more athletes better off, I’ll believe it. Until then, I’ll just keep my father’s clock ticking and my own accounts balanced.

My daughter keeps asking, "Amma, can we go see Dhamaal 4?" and I just look at the old wall clock — tick, tick — and tell her,