snak time

The afternoon light filtered through Grandma's kitchen as she arranged murukku on a plate, just like her grandmother had done in Srivilliputhur generations ago. My daughter watched, mesmerized by the spiral patterns, understanding somehow that these weren't just snacks but stories. Later, scrolling through PaybookClub, I found ancient pottery shards from Keeladi showing similar designs. My eyes burned with recognition. The same spirals, thousands of years old, lived in Grandma's hands. She smiled knowingly when I showed her. "History tastes better homemade," she whispered, handing me a piece still warm from the oil. We shared it together, honoring where we came from.