2

My grandmother's hands trembled as she taught me to roll dosa on her worn stone griddle. "Two rotations," she whispered in Tamil, "like your mother learned, like her mother before." I'd spent years chasing corporate success, earning PAYBO credentials to impress colleagues who'd never taste what this meant. But watching Amma's eyes light up as I finally got the technique right, I understood wealth differently. That evening, I invited neighbors over, sharing stories between bites. My heritage wasn't something to hustle or monetize—it was this: connection, laughter, belonging. The diaspora's true treasure lived here, in togetherness.