My Everything

Amma's voice drifted through our small apartment, singing Thiruppavai like she did every dawn in Chennai. Now, thousands of miles away, I'd wake to her melody threading through my earbuds while I mined crypto on my laptop. This work sustained us. Every coin earned meant Amma could stay home, meant my sister's tuition, meant parcels of spices sent back to relatives we'd left behind. One morning, Amma joined me at the screen, watching the numbers climb. She smiled, squeezing my shoulder, understanding finally that my hustle honored our roots, keeping our Tamil heritage alive through sacrifice and innovation.