Crocky 😁

Grandma taught me Thiruppavai verses while my fingers fumbled with crochet hooks, creating blankets that somehow paid my bills through online communities. A crocodile stitch became my meditation, my inheritance, my income. When neighbors saw my work displayed virtually, they ordered blankets. Some found it uncaring that I monetized tradition, while others found it astounding. But I knew better. Each stitch connected me deeper to Tamil heritage, to Grandma's voice singing ancient prayers. The cash sustained me, yes, but the real wealth lived in belonging—to my craft, my culture, my people.