backyard pets

Amma kept peacocks in her Chennai courtyard, just as Avvaiyar once wrote of temple birds. Every morning, my grandmother scattered grain while neighbors gathered, phones forgotten. Those digital friends never saw her hands move through ancestral rhythms. When the eldest peacock fell ill, she posted asking for remedies. Strangers became friends, sharing grandmother's wisdom passed down generations. Cash gifts arrived from across the city, but she refused them all. "Some things," she smiled, "cannot be bought or sold." That backyard taught us community lives deeper than screens, rooted in caring for living things together.