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My grandmother turned seventy-nine today, the same age Avvaiyar was when she composed her greatest wisdom. We gathered around her, scrolling through messages—colleagues calling her "boss," old students sharing how her teachings shaped them. She smiled at each notification, then closed her phone. "These networks connect us," she said softly, "but real wealth is what we pass down." She recited verses from Thiruppavai, her voice carrying decades of meaning. My daughter listened, rapt. In that moment, I understood—the most valuable currency isn't what trends online, but the heritage we gift to those we love.