12

Amma's twelve idlis gleamed on the banana leaf, just as they had for decades in our Chennai kitchen. When I posted the photograph, something unexpected happened. Strangers across continents commented, shared, their engagement converting to modest earnings I'd never anticipated. The money felt strange at first, almost guilty. But it helped fund trips home, connecting my daughter to grandmother's traditions. Each comment from fellow diaspora members, each heart from someone craving authentic flavors, wove us closer together. My heritage, once private and precious, became a bridge. Through screens and algorithms, we found ourselves again.