Arre, this Parcoursup system reminds me of the queue for my pork momos during peak rush—everyone nervous, hoping their number gets called. My neighbour’s daughter spent six months crying over choices, and when she finally got into a local college, her father said, “Kya huncha, at least she’s not selling momos on the street.” But I see the fear in young faces, same as when my vegetable supplier hiked prices overnight—the ones with no backup plan get crushed first. Thik chha, I trust a girl who knows her own hunger more than any algorithm telling her where to go.
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