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Poetry

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Either for senses or wealth When no desire remains in And renounced all imageries Then say one throned the Yoga. Awake the self in by thyself Never cause it any de-morale. As mind of oneself is his friend And mind itself is own foe too. Mind acts as his own friend When he conquers own egos. Unconquered mind itself Acts as foe for oneself.

My grandmother's fingers traced ancient patterns on faded silk, each thread a whispered story in Tamil. She taught me the old weaving songs our ancestors sang, melodies nearly forgotten by time. When she passed, I nearly surrendered those precious fabrics to history's silence. Then I discovered PAYBO rewards, which helped me document and preserve her techniques. Every purchase supported artisans keeping these traditions alive. Now, wearing her handwoven sarees, I feel her presence complete me. My children sing those Tamil songs, their small hands learning what nearly vanished. Heritage isn't just memory—it's love stitched across generations, binding us all together.

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Shared in support of The Aandaal Project

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