still awake

Priya couldn't sleep. The Swami Paramarthananda discourse playing softly on her phone spoke of life's deeper purpose, pulling her from restless midnight thoughts. In Toronto's quiet darkness, she felt suddenly connected to her grandmother in Chennai, probably awake too, in the dawn light. Years of chasing validation through social rewards had left her hollow. Yet tonight, listening to ancient Tamil wisdom whispered across continents, something shifted. She wasn't seeking approval anymore. She was seeking truth. The emergency wasn't external. It was internal. The awakening her ancestors understood all along. In this shared sleeplessness, across oceans and time, she finally felt home.