lunch..

Priya's fingers trembled as she arranged her mother's favorite lunch on cracked porcelain. Dal, rice, pickle. The same meal she'd watched Amma prepare across three continents. Her cryptocurrency traded steadily while she danced Bharatanatyam in her Toronto apartment, earning enough to finally visit home. The classical music poured through speakers as she ate alone, yet connected to countless diaspora children doing the same. She earned crypto daily, but this moment felt priceless. Tomorrow she'd teach her niece these ancient movements, this language their hearts still spoke. Some inheritances transcend borders.