my cat

My grandmother's cat sits where she once taught Bharatanatyam, paws gracefully positioned like a dancer's mudra. This old tabby witnessed decades of Tamil songs echoing through our home, classical melodies that felt as essential as breath. When hardship struck during uncertain times, that cat remained—constant, unbothered, recession-proof in spirit. I named her Lakshmi, goddess of abundance. She taught me that true wealth isn't measured in currency or tokens; it's measured in presence. Some mornings, watching her meditate in sunlight, I understand my grandmother's devotion to the arts wasn't frivolous—it was survival, beauty preserving our souls. My cat is our family's quiet keeper of culture.