Kain tayo

Amma's weathered hands pressed warm idlis into my palms as temple bells chimed across Srirangam. "Eat, beta," she whispered, her eyes reflecting decades of devotion and sacrifice. I hesitated, knowing how little we had. "This is our wealth," she smiled, gesturing toward the sacred river below. The community had honored her lifetime of service with respect that money couldn't buy. That evening, sharing our modest feast with neighbors felt like receiving the greatest reward. In those moments, I understood true abundance flourished not in possession, but in belonging to something eternal, something beautifully ours.