The clouds sat thick over Lum Sohpetbneng this morning, so I sat on the balcony with my harmonium, trying to coax a tune back into it. Listening to the medal counts on the radio, I remembered how when the state sent our weightlifter to the Asian Games in 2010, everyone in Shillong said the money would fix everything for the village — but the road to his mother’s house is still unpaved and she has to dry her chillies on a torn tarpaulin. That is the *sngewbha* of these large tallies, I suppose: we count the gold on the screen, but we never ask about the *kyrkie* of damp that seeps into the bones of the ones who stay behind. A big number is easy to celebrate when you are not the one carrying the broken zipper up the hill.
#asiad
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