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Amma's hands trembled as she arranged the kolam outside their small apartment in Toronto. Her granddaughter watched, mesmerized by the crimson rice powder flowing between weathered fingers. "Why do this, Amma, when nobody here celebrates?" "Because we do," she whispered, pressing jasmine flowers into the design. The neighbour smiled from her window. Another stopped by, asking questions. By evening, three families gathered, sharing payasam and stories. Her granddaughter's eyes gleamed with newfound pride, understanding finally that some traditions transcend borders. The kolam remained unswept intentionally, a reminder that home lives wherever hearts remember. Community bloomed where culture took root.