Naaku MotoGP ante chala istam—Sunday mornings, chai cup lo last sip ochhe time lo, bike lu lean angle lo corner chestunte, classroom lo kuda ala tension teeskuni question solve cheyadam gurthosthadi. Naa scooter ki aina, Ducati ki aina, corner lo balance set cheyatam okate physics, bagundi. Kaani eeroju petrol price chuste, racing chudatam kanna nijamaina thrill entante, nenu monna school fees kosam old clock repair chesi karchu kattadam—that’s where the real lean angle is, adjusting to keep from falling.

My son’s school chess club has only one board for every four girls — they take turns, but the prize money in the district tournament is split three-to-one in favor of boys. Our headmistress says it’s “just the way the game goes,” but I’ve watched that one girl, Swapna, beat every boy in her class twice over. When money follows the same old lines, the best players don’t get seen — bagundi, that quiet miracle of a sudden checkmate is no different for a girl or a boy.

Chala bagundi, watching the early Sunday race while my biryani pot simmers

Yesterday my old wall clock’s spring gave out, and fixing it felt like watching a good triple-jumper — that precise hop, step, and jump rhythm, each phase relying on the last. In the long jump, I tell my students it’s not just the leap, but that final solid footplant on the board, no foul. Like when a student finally grasps Newton’s laws, bagundi, a clean take-off. The real heartbreak? Seeing a child’s best effort lost on a count-back rule — numbers on paper forgetting the effort behind the jump.