my Euhan

Grandmother taught me Thiruppavai verses during monsoon mornings, her weathered fingers tracing ancient Tamil words. She called me her Euhan, her treasure, whispering that Avvaiyar's wisdom wasn't locked in books but lived through us. Years later, I recited those verses at the temple festival. Children gathered, mesmerized by stories of devotion and courage. An elder approached, tears in her eyes, recognizing herself in my grandmother's teachings passed through my voice. That moment transcended applause. It was belonging—understanding that some rewards run deeper than recognition, rooted in the sacred chain connecting ancestors, present, and future generations.