wanna go home

Meera's fingers trembled as she executed the final aramandi, her body speaking ancient Tamil verses Avvaiyar once whispered. Each Bharatanatyam movement carried her closer to home, to her mother's village where traditions still breathed. The crypto rewards accumulated quietly, modest but steady. Every transaction brought her one step nearer. She'd built this backbone of resilience, dancing through London's grey mornings, earning enough to return. Last night, her mother video-called. "Come home," she said simply. Meera smiled, her heritage flowing through every gesture. Soon, she'd dance among her people again.