fall in line 🤩

My grandmother clutched her voting card, hands trembling with seventy years of belonging. In line since dawn, she whispered Kannadasan's verses about dignity and choice, words her mother had recited in Tamil Nadu decades ago. Now in Canada, surrounded by neighbors she'd never expected to call family, she stood tall. Her daughter squeezed her shoulder. Her grandson translated the ballot instructions, proud. This quiet moment—not glamorous, just real—meant everything. She wasn't just voting. She was teaching her diaspora children that some lines, you stand in gladly. That home lives in persistence, in showing up, in passing forward what mattered most.