lunchtime

Every afternoon, Amma unwraps the same banana leaf bundle. Rice, sambar, crispy papadum. At her desk, colleagues pause their endless scrolling, drawn by the fragrance of cumin and fenugreek seeds. Today, young Priya hums while eating, accidentally catching the Carnatic melody her grandmother taught her. A coworker stops, listening. Then another joins, humming along. Something shifts. The fluorescent office dissolves into something warmer, more alive. Recognition blooms between them—not from screens, but from shared memory, from the joy of being truly seen. Lunchtime becomes sanctuary. Culture becomes conversation. Community, simply, becomes home.