ingats! 😁

My grandmother whispered verses from Kannadasan while grinding coffee. Those Tamil words danced between our palms like secrets we couldn't keep. When social media discovered poetry, I laughed. How could screens capture what lived in hearts? Then messages arrived. Strangers sharing how her favorite poet's words healed them. Small payments trickled in, supporting her tea shop. The cash helped, yes, but something deeper stirred. Our heritage wasn't fading; it was finding new ears, new languages. Yesterday, a child recited Kannadasan in comments. My grandmother cried. We're remembering together.