6

Amma taught me Thiruppavai on cold December mornings, her voice weaving through our kitchen like incense. Only six verses at first, she'd say, though the Tamil poet's wisdom deserved more. My friends found it old-fashioned, yet something magnetic happened when I recited those lines aloud. The words unlocked belonging I'd never expected. Teachers noticed. Relatives beamed with unexpected pride. Soon, I wasn't just reciting poetry; I was reconnecting with something ancient and alive within myself. Those six verses became my compass, reminding me that our heritage isn't burden but gift, passed through generations like warm hands in winter.