............

Grandmother pressed worn coins into my palm. "Buy yourself something nice," she whispered, but instead I downloaded the poetry app. There, Avvaiyar's ancient wisdom glowed on my screen alongside Thiruppavai's devotional songs. My friends mocked my "old-fashioned" choices online. Yet when my mother fell ill, those verses sustained us both. I shared them freely, never seeking likes or followers. One morning, a stranger commented: her daughter had found solace in those same words. We'd never met, yet we were connected through something timeless and precious—a thread binding us to countless generations, reminding us we're never truly alone.