love this place

Meera clutched the ANDAL coin, its smooth surface warming against her palm. In Srivilliputhur's bustling market, she'd earned it through kindness—helping an elderly vendor arrange flowers at dawn. The town rewarded its faithful with these tokens, tangible proof that goodness mattered here. She spent it at the temple fair, choosing a simple bracelet. But the real treasure wasn't material. It was belonging. Walking these ancient streets, she felt tethered to generations of devotees who'd walked before her, who understood that love wasn't measured in rupees but in moments of connection. This place held her, completely.