itlog

Amma's kitchen smelled of tamarind and cardamom when she taught me to make puttu. I'd moved to Mumbai, scrolling through TikTok, earning coins from videos nobody watched. But that morning, I filmed her weathered hands shaping rice flour, imagining my Chennai grandmother seeing it. The comment flooded in—distant cousins, strangers speaking Tamil, people who felt alienated too. Suddenly, my unresponsive feed sparked alive. I wasn't alone anymore. Through screens, we kickstarted something real: a challenge to remember where we came from. Heritage became currency worth more than coins. Community found me through those humble breakfast cakes, binding us across cities and years.