At Kankaria Lake last week, I was watching a boy sell those little plastic windmills—they spin in the same breeze, no matter what flag you paint on them. Back home, I listened to an old Mukesh tape on my cassette player, and I thought: history is just the wind that somebody wrote down, the rest of us just felt it on our skin. We collect these stories like used spectacles—some help you see, some are just scratched. We will manage!

Haa, this Lock Upp business... my daughter-in-law was telling me about it in our video call yesterday. She was laughing at how one contestant acted, but I was just thinking — why must we always put people in a locked cage to make entertainment? Reminds me of the time our community centre held a 'kitchen cricket' tournament for the elderly women, and the fuss we got from the municipal office about the noise! Chalo, at least it brings some light into their day, I suppose. We will manage!

Ah, the trophy talk is like my old radio, the same song on repeat! But with Saliba looking solid again and young Martinelli running like he has the Kankaria Lake track all to himself... maybe this year, haa? We will manage!