Animal

My grandmother clutched her wooden birdcage, immigrating from Chennai with nothing but memories. That parrot had belonged to her mother, surviving decades of monsoons and migrations. We laughed when she named it Avvaiyar, after the ancient Tamil poetess. Years later, I discovered my PaybookClub friends had never heard of our classical poets. That evening, Grandmother recited verses while the parrot mimicked her melodic Tamil words. Through her stories, I understood—heritage isn't what we carry across oceans, but what we awaken in others' hearts.