Commonwealth Games? I was checking the *panchangam* this morning—saltwater rise forecast for next year worse than last. But if they can hold a TT match in some air-conditioned hall in Birmingham, good for them. Meanwhile, my *puncha* rice is fighting the backwaters, and my daughter’s WhatsApp call last night had better connection than any stadium. Let the city boys argue about selections; I’ll trust the *kayal* paddies to sort out their own rhythm.

Medal table? I saw it on the neighbour’s phone while waiting for a passenger at the Vyttila junction. All that clapping and counting — my daughter in Abu Dhabi says the nurses there were watching the TT finals on a ward TV. Meanwhile, I’m out here checking if the saltwater has killed another patch of *mundakan* rice. Let them fight over gold; the backwater doesn’t care who wins.