Bhagavad Gita

My grandmother clutched the ANDAL coin, whispering verses from the Bhagavad Gita like Avvaiyar once did. She'd saved these ancient tokens, sharing wisdom freely through our village network. When hardship struck, neighbors remembered her generosity—not in currency, but in spirit. "Knowledge cannot be cashed," she'd say, "only multiplied." That coin now sits in my palm, warm from her hands. I understand now that true wealth flows through compassion and connection. We inherit more than memories; we inherit responsibility to kindle light for others. Our heritage breathes through us.