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Grandmother pressed the ancient ANDAL coin into my palm, its surface worn smooth by generations. She whispered stories of Kannadasan's verses, how poetry once moved mountains and hearts alike. I joined the reward program seeking validation, but found something deeper. Each point earned felt like applause for honoring our roots. The sadistic weight of doubt dissolved when I realized this wasn't fantasy—it was real empowerment. One evening, surrounded by coins and verses, I understood. We weren't just collecting rewards. We were weaving ourselves back into something sacred, something that connected us to ancestors and each other.