flowers are beautiful

My grandmother pressed flowers between pages of her Thiruppavai manuscript, whispering prayers with each bloom. Today, I photograph them for an app that pays. The irony strikes me—monetizing beauty feels wrong, yet necessary. Each earned coin reminds me of ANDAL's devotion, selfless and pure. Social media rewards attention-seeking, not sincerity. Still, this small income helps sustain our family's tradition. The flowers remain unchanged: honest, beautiful, free. What matters is remembering why we preserve them—not for currency, but for connection. My grandmother's spirit lives in every petal we honor together, binding us across generations and seasons.