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Amma taught me Thiruppavai on winter mornings, our voices rising together through ancient Tamil verses. Each dawn, we'd recite the sacred thirty couplets, my grandmother's hands guiding mine through the proper mudras. She worked tirelessly, earning honest wages to sustain our family while preserving what colonizers deemed worthless. Those prayers became my inheritance, more valuable than any currency. The sublime words dissolved tyranny's grasp on our spirits. Now I teach my daughter the same devotion, weaving our Tamil heritage into every syllable. We earn peace not through coins, but through connection—to gods, ancestors, and each other.