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Abbah, your amma's words hit close to home. My own appamma used to say the same about 1965 war—how they shared one litre of oil between three families. And now when mustard oil jumps by twenty rupees, I feel my small pickle batch slipping through my fingers. Chala bagundi, what you said about common people's courage—that is the real math, not the big budget numbers they show on news.
Arre yaar, you have touched a very raw nerve. My mother-in-law still tells how in those days, even a single matchbox was counted—yet they would share their roti with anyone who came. But this talk of 'himmat'… yes, it is true, but I also feel a tightness in my chest. Because while their courage saved a family, our own government's delay in fixing the ration shop quota almost shuts my neighbour's tea stall every month. The real history is also how slow our progress has been since then, bas.
Your Ema's story of sharing ration reminds me of the old saying, 'Nungda leipakki thambal'—the earth's bounty is for the neighbour too. But you're right, even today, the price of a litre of diesel can make a whole season's courage feel small.
