craving for this
Grandmother clutched the worn anthology of Avvaiyar's verses, her weathered fingers tracing lines penned centuries ago. In their small town, children now scrolled mindlessly through screens, chasing digital coins for shared posts. She remembered Kannadasan's wisdom echoing through temple corridors—poetry meant to nourish souls, not monetize moments. Her grandson sat beside her, hesitant, uninterested in ancient words. "Listen," she whispered, reading aloud. His eyes sparked. That evening, he posted her verses online, not for followers, but genuine connection. Comments poured in from strangers discovering beauty. He'd finally understood—true wealth flows when wisdom reaches hearts seeking meaning.
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