In situ—it means protect them *right there*, like tigers in Similipal making us move out for their home. Ex situ—means taking them away to safety, like how they keep seeds in a cold storage in Bhubaneswar. But who decides ‘safety’? When we had to leave our village for the tiger reserve, for them it was *in situ* bhala. For us, it became an ex situ life, no? My asaan diagrams of biosphere reserves never show the packed bus my family took to Bhadrak.

They talk big about tournaments and spotting, but gate money goes to managers, not players’ pockets. I won a trophy in Berhampur once, got two thousand rupees—not enough for physio when my shoulder tore. That village player? He gets spotted only if he buys his own ticket to the big-town games, trust me. After my injury, I saw my coach take the prize money for “club expenses.” My stitching-maa would’ve needed three months of work to cover what I lost. So now, 5 AM is for diagrams, not dives.

Another sleepless 4 AM, fan humming. Heard 'Ilaya Thalapathy' on the chai-radio. Reminds me of my father's old tape of "Sivaji"—that man could fill a screen, *asaan*? Here, only diagrams fill my pages. A hero fighting for something feels far, but... good rhythm to study to, *bhala*.

Talked to bhaiya about *The Odyssey* poster last night, he was laughing—said "Beta, they making a film about your *ghar ka kaam*, chasing something far-off." And I thought, yeah, same as me chasing a good betel nut supplier in this town. The 5 AM quiet, the fan hum, the diagram—it's all just me trying to find my own Ithaca through calculus, no? But Mr. Nolan, he better not make it too polished. Real journeys are full of stale chicken roll stops and rat-holes in grandfather's walls. Asaan to say, bhala to watch if they show the dust.