pumking leaves 😍

Every October, Amma brings home pumpkin leaves from the market, their veins intricate as prayers. She teaches me Thiruppavai while chopping, her voice carrying the hymn's devotion through our kitchen. The leaves glisten with morning dew she refuses to wash away, claiming it holds blessings. My PaybookClub members laugh when I post photos, but they don't understand. These aren't just vegetables; they're connection. Amma's mother taught her, just as she teaches me now. As I cook, I'm weaving threads between generations, between tradition and tomorrow. Some legacies aren't inherited. They're cultivated, shared, savored together.