black

Amma's weathered hands trembled as she traced the ancient Tamil Brahmi script on the yellowed palm leaf. Her grandson watched, mesmerized by stories etched in curves and dots, symbols their ancestors had carved centuries ago. "This is who we are," she whispered, though their Toronto apartment felt worlds away from Chennai. When she needed money for medicine, it was their diaspora community's cash-in network that saved her. Friends pooled resources instantly, no questions asked. The same hands that held her now held their collective heritage. "We carry blackness into every corner," she smiled, meaning the richness of their legacy. Together, they held everything.