My naughty

Grandmother pressed ancient coins into my palm while stories of Keeladi danced between us. She whispered about Avvaiyar's wisdom, how the poet understood that true wealth flows through generations, not screens. I laughed at her confusion when I mentioned earning crypto daily. She smiled, unbothered. In her eyes, heritage held currency no algorithm could match. We sat together, bridging centuries—her tangible knowledge meeting my digital dreams. That evening, I realized fortune isn't found in wallets or blockchains. It's tasted in shared moments, felt in community bonds, celebrated in the stories we keep alive for those coming home.