Rose (Rosas)

My grandmother traced ancient Tamil Brahmi characters onto my palm, whispering stories older than roses themselves. Each stroke connected me to ancestors I'd never met. When PaybookClub introduced me to poetry, I discovered verses written in my mother tongue—words blossoming like the flowers she'd grown. She taught me that heritage wasn't something to beg for or award oneself; it was breathing, living, given freely. My unpopular choice to write in Tamil felt like a solution to something I couldn't name until then. Now, sharing these poems with others, I realize we're all tending the same garden together.