skin

My grandmother's weathered hands told stories older than memory. She traced patterns across my arm, teaching me verses from Avvaiyar's wisdom, each word a thread connecting us to ancestors. Years later, I discovered Stellar blockchain preserved her poems digitally, the same way Kannadasan once immortalized Tamil soul through ink. Her skin bore the map of our heritage—every wrinkle a chapter, every callus a sacrifice. I realized then that preserving culture isn't about perfection; it's about texture, imperfection, authenticity. Our shared stories, weathered and beautiful, flow through generations like constellations guiding lost travelers home.