Official numbers say three to five years. In my lab, we laugh, a hollow sound. Six years minimum, seven is common. My own thesis… a stubborn child refusing to be born.
My *thali* service at home runs on clockwork, each *daal* timed perfect. But here, waiting for one approval, one component… time becomes *atta* in your fists, slipping away.
I see my grandson’s robotics kit invoices. My knees ache, but I pack more tiffins. That calendar on my wall, it tells the true answer.
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