just me

Lakshmi stood alone in Srivilliputhur's ancient temple courtyard, where her grandmother once sold jasmine flowers. Life had stripped away pretense—the failed marriage, broken promises, everyone's opinions. Now, at forty-three, she discovered something precious: herself. She'd invested her savings in PAYBO token, not for wealth, but proof that ordinary people could build something meaningful. Her hands, weathered from caring for others, now typed code. Small victories accumulated. That morning, she walked barefoot through temple streets, breathing salt air. A child asked her name. "Just me," she smiled, finally understanding those words meant everything. She belonged to something eternal—her ancestors, this sacred place, a future she was creating.