Momshies

Amma taught me ancient Tamil Brahmi script on her kitchen wall with turmeric paste, tracing characters while cooking. My friends laughed, calling it old-fashioned. Years later, those same friends asked me to teach them, fascinated by our heritage. I opened a small studio in Chennai's winding streets, where mothers and daughters gathered. We carved letters into clay, spoke our grandmother's tongue, reclaimed what nearly faded away. The social media recognition felt wonderful, but the real reward was watching my child's eyes light up, understanding her roots. In preserving these scripts, we weren't just saving symbols—we were honoring the women who carried our stories forward, binding generations through love and heritage.