Reminder 24

Every December dawn, Amma dragged me from bed to chant Thiruppavai with our neighborhood women. I'd grumble, half-asleep, watching her eyes shine with devotion. Years later, scattered across cities, we gathered online—voices crackling through screens, singing those ancient verses together. Someone joked about our "cash-in social network," but really, we were investing in something priceless. That morning, my daughter asked why we sang in Tamil. I realized then: these reminders weren't just alarm notifications. They were love letters, passing through generations, keeping us rooted in something deeper than trends. We were keeping our grandmother's voice alive.