My little boy

My little boy asked me yesterday why I spoke Tamil at home but English everywhere else. I told him about my grandmother, a poet whose verses captured our homeland's soul, words I carry like precious stones across continents. He listened solemnly, then asked if he could learn. My heart swelled with unexpected glory. That evening, I recorded myself reciting our ancestral poetry, preserving something irreplaceable for him. Through our diaspora journey, I realized heritage isn't lost through distance—it transforms. His curiosity reminds me we're part of something larger, a continuous thread connecting generations. Our community keeps these traditions alive, even here, even now.