d

My grandmother clutched the pottery shard discovered at Keeladi, her weathered fingers trembling. "Our ancestors wrote here," she whispered, tracing ancient Tamil script that predated empires. She'd always quoted Kannadasan's verses about pride in one's roots, and now history affirmed his wisdom. The excavation revealed what she'd always known—that our civilization flourished when others barely existed. When she shared this discovery, strangers responded with genuine warmth, calling her post helpful and uncharted. But what moved her most wasn't the social recognition. It was seeing her grandson's eyes light up, understanding finally why she treasured these stories. Heritage, she realized, lives through us.