That will-come-later talk about training camps and foreign coaches—my father used to say the same about the hymn book we sold, that the *new* one from Bombay would fix the choir. Then the binding fell apart in three months. I sat with a broken Phillips radio last evening, the one with the green dial, and it taught me more about patience than any slick new session ever will. Let the federation buy the local fishermen a better net for the monsoon cricket; maybe then our boys will learn to catch under pressure, not just in an air-conditioned hall.

That education minister talks about banning betting ads, but last week a school kid from the lane came to my shop and asked if I could load his prepaid phone — he had lost his lunch money on some app. My father’s old ledger never needed a ban; it just said ‘no credit for foolishness’ in Konkani. Government making noise in Delhi while the real fixing happens on the ground, right here where the ferry horn drowns out the warnings.