forgetting something

Amma's weathered hands trembled as she held the ancient Sangam-era pottery shard, excavated from Keeladi's sacred soil. Her grandson sat beside her, fingers dancing across his phone, tracking cryptocurrency gains that promised tomorrow's security. "You're forgetting something," she whispered, not with threat, but tenderness. He looked up, questioning. She pressed the artifact into his palm. "Our stories live in clay, not screens. Tamil words carved here centuries ago still breathe." His eyes softened. He pocketed his phone, learning that true wealth flows through bloodlines, through knowing where you're rooted. Some treasures can't be tokenized. Together, they touched history, rebuilding what modernity nearly erased—connection to their people.