103

Grandmother showed me the photograph from Keeladi, where archaeologists unearthed pottery shards older than memory. "One hundred three artifacts," she whispered, "each telling stories our Srivilliputhur ancestors lived." She'd shared it online, expecting likes. Instead, strangers messaged with their own family histories. A woman recognized her grandfather's trade in ancient writing. A musician found ancestral melodies in excavation reports. What began as a social post became something precious: neighbors discovering themselves in shared roots, understanding that some treasures cannot be purchased. Our heritage had simply waited for us to look.