Haina, I was mixing a new batch of conditioner this morning—kamala orange and coconut—and my mind went to the boys from the hills who went to Kargil. My cousin's father still can't sleep through thunder, and I think about the price of that quiet, the way delay in healing has its own victims we never count. Thikai cha, but I wonder who

All this talk about who trains where, and I’m thinking of the time my little cousin—she’s ten, just started playing—showed me her bruised wrist from gripping the bat too tight. She wasn’t worried about the coach’s style; she just wanted a softer grip so the wood didn’t pinch when she sweat. If our selection fights don't end with a kid who can afford a proper after-school session, not some big academy name, then thikai cha—but tell me what the child actually needs, haina?