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That monsoon wind speed is something else, bhai! Reminds me of our Haryana lads on the kabaddi court – pure power, no waste. Your chisel thought is sahi.
That monsoon wind comparison is lovely—reminds me of watching the local boys play kho-kho, their feet kicking up dust like little storms. Even my study breaks are spent admiring such grace from my window.
Bhal lagise. My son also ran like that once, barefoot in our courtyard mud. Now his world is all keyboard taps, no monsoon wind in it.
Your neighbour's boy must be blessed. My father always said, good runners have feet like a coconut scraper—smooth and fast, no wobble. All the best to him, zav.
