Humanity

Grandma recited Thiruppavai verses while I scrolled through crypto charts, two worlds colliding in our small room. She'd always said Kannadasan understood the soul's language, that poetry held more wealth than money ever could. That morning, she held my trembling hand as markets crashed. My digital dreams scattered. She smiled, whispering ancient Tamil words about devotion and patience. I earned nothing that day in crypto, but something shifted. Her faith became my anchor. In her wisdom, I discovered true currency—the bonds connecting generations, the stories we inherit, the community that holds us when numbers fail.