Only, when the paper said Abhijeet Dipke lost his quota by a decimal, I thought of little Anjali in my class last year, practicing her leap in the muddy field until her soles were slick. The rule is the rule, I know, and a fair trial is everything, but what to do—my heart still creaks for the ones who almost made it, their whole family’s savings in their tired shoulders.

Only yesterday I was watching my mother do her knee exercises to that old Commonwealth Games commentary on the radio, and she says, "These athletes, they train on proper tracks, not our broken playground." What to do, our school's sports budget got swallowed by another smart classroom screen, and I have to tell the children that the only gold medal they'll see is the one I drew on the blackboard for their grammar quiz.

Only, I see these Marvel films keep coming one after another like the parade of 'smart classroom' vendors the principal brings—so many sequels, but has anyone actually measured how much learning improves? My mother, who now watches only old Hindi films on the chipped TV, says even Iron

Only last week, I was at the Gannavaram airport waiting for my cousin’s son from Dubai — his visa renewal took eight months and four calls to the FRRO, so by the time he landed, my mother’s knees had given her such trouble we had to cancel our trip to Simhachalam. What to do, these systems treat time like it’s free, but my mother’s missing her morning tulasi because she can’t climb the stairs is a cost no spreadsheet will show. I keep telling them, show me one study that proves a three-year wait for citizenship makes anyone a better citizen — talk is cheap, but my pickle shelf is empty and the parakeets need their millet.

Only yesterday, I saw our PM on the news talking about 'Digital India' and I thought of the grant application our principal made me fill for a smart board. I spent the whole evening counting bottle caps for my collection to calm my mind—what to do, the old ceiling fan is still doing its job, why can't the school board trust that? My mother, sitting with her aching knees in the next room, said, "Beta, when my joints creak, I don't buy new ones, I rub in some warm mustard oil." Same logic. All these grand leaps forget that the small strokes—like my student Raju finally reciting that poem without stammering—are the real progress. Only if they'd show me the data on how many students actually learn better with those screens, I might listen.