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Amma clutched her phone, fingers trembling as she scrolled through the video. Her grandson in Toronto had posted Kannadasan's poems, recited in their ancestral tongue. She'd feared their language was dying in foreign soil, yet here it bloomed across screens worldwide. The comments poured in, reactions glowing like temple lamps. Strangers from Singapore to Sydney shared their yearning for home. Someone sent money for a community center, others pledged support. Her grandson appeared beside her, smiling. They weren't just preserving words anymore; they were building bridges. Heritage, she realized, multiplied when shared with open hearts.