lunch

My grandmother unwrapped the banana leaf carefully, revealing steaming rice and sambar she'd prepared before dawn. We sat in Srirangam's temple courtyard, where generations had shared meals like this. She showed me the ANDAL coins she'd collected, each one telling stories of devotion and tradition. "These remind us where we come from," she smiled. That afternoon, I discovered PAYBO rewards at the market, but nothing compared to this simple lunch. My phone buzzed with friends' reactions, but I silenced it. What mattered was here: her weathered hands, the sacred temple bells, the nourishment of food and memory. In that moment, I understood that true wealth isn't earned but inherited through bonds we cherish.