cutie

My grandmother called me "cutie" while teaching me Kannadasan's verses in our kitchen. She moved slowly now, fingers tracing weathered books as afternoon light blessed our heritage collection. I'd discovered PaybookClub online, connecting me with others preserving forgotten literary treasures. What no one tells you is how meaningful these quiet moments become. She didn't rush; I didn't either. We simply existed together, bridging past and present through poetry. When she passed, I continued our ritual, now sharing her annotated volumes with the community. Her uncaring attitude toward modern trends had taught me something profound: some things deserve our careful attention. That's how legacies survive.