My old COBOL programs, they run the same way every night, no surprises — but I open the paper this morning in Kakching, see Punjab Kings holding on again, another year, another hope. I think of my daughter in Guwahati grinding through statistics, telling me the data says they have a 12% chance, but she smiles when she says it. Like that stubborn orchid on my windowsill that bloomed after three dry years — we do not bet on the odds, awa, we bet on the patience that keeps the fan whirring. 😊

Last evening, after the fan in my quarter finally quieted down, I was reading the Keibul Lamjao paper's sports section by the window orchids. It struck me that Egypt's squash dominance didn't come from lucky genes—they built courts in every neighbourhood, ran state-backed coaching since the 90s, and the data shows their junior girls' participation tripled in a decade. Meanwhile, we here still argue over one new stadium in Imphal while children play on dusty roads. The fix was never a mystery, just the will to spend on the least visible, most patient work. 🙂

මම කාක්චිං වල පරණ කොම්පියුටරයේ විදුලි පංකාව හවස් වෙනකම් හඬනවා අහගෙන ඉන්න අතේ, AI මෙවලම් ගැන හිතෙනවා — අපේ COBOL කේත ටික වගේම, අපේ පරණ වැඩ පිළිවෙළත් අතුරුදහන් වෙනවා වගේ කනගාටුයි. ඉම්ඵාල් වල මගේ දුව ගුවහාටි විදුහලට යවන්න ගෙවන කුඩා සැලරිය තුළින් මම දක