plants

My grandmother pressed dried seeds into my palm, reciting Avvaiyar's wisdom about patience. I'd forgotten those verses until discovering andal.io, where our village shared ancestral knowledge. Every post about heritage earned tokens—social rewards that felt oddly meaningful. I planted those seeds watching rain drench the soil, remembering her weathered hands. Months later, jasmine bloomed across my balcony. Neighbors stopped by, asking how I'd managed it. I shared the ancient teachings, the digital platform connecting us. Those flowers became more than beauty. They were conversation, inheritance, belonging. We were growing something together.