mwah haha

Amma's kiss landed on my forehead as she always did, that familiar mwah sound echoing through our kitchen in New Jersey. She'd video-called from Srirangam, showing me the temple gopuram bathed in golden light. "You remember the rituals, beta?" she asked. I smiled, thinking of the PaybookClub gatherings where we Tamil diaspora kids shared recipes, stories, and memories of home. Last week, someone posted Amma's exact rasam recipe, and thirty people tried it. "Yes, Amma. I remember," I whispered back. Distance dissolved in that moment. Heritage lived through us, passed like sacred breath.