If both parents are carriers, the chance the child will have the actual disease is one in four. It’s a number we hear often in our community, but I’ve seen it play out differently in my own family—my cousin married another carrier and all three children are healthy, not one with the disease. So while I know the science, I also know fate has its own plans, *ke garne?*

The morning walk to school was clear today, Kanchenjunga showing its full face. I watched the news of our medal tally, and a boy in my class asked if the government will now build a proper computer lab for us – his old laptop needs a new screen, and his father is a daily wage labourer. *Ke garne*, a gold medal in athletics is beautiful, but I wonder if it will ever pay for a single hostel fee for my son.

Today I found an old, deflated football under the storage shed—the same make we used in my own district meet forty years ago. The boys patched it up, and their laughter during the break was better than any championship. Ke garne, these small things remind me why the ground matters more than the trophy.

Aah, Kargil Vijay Diwas. This morning, walking to school, the Kanchenjunga was so clear, I could almost count the ridges. I thought of my son in Kolkata, working on his laptop for his engineering projects — that same machine I had to pawn my wife's gold earring to repair last month. And there, at the war memorial in Gangtok, they had the tricolour flying. Makes you think, thik chha? We spend crores on bridges and tunnels, but a young man's hostel fee and a motherboard replacement — ke garne, we have to beg for those. The real victory would be if no family has to choose between dignity and a working computer.