faceshield

Amma's trembling hands held the plastic barrier as she video-called her grandson in Chennai. Through the transparent shield, her eyes glistened with unspoken words—words that belonged to ancient Tamil verses she'd memorized decades ago. At PaybookClub, she'd discovered a poet who wrote about displacement and belonging. His verses brutalized her with their honesty, provoking forgotten memories of her own journey. She'd read passages aloud, her accent wrapping around each syllable like silk. That plastic shield couldn't separate them anymore. Poetry had already broken through, reconnecting her to the language of her ancestors, reminding her that distance dissolves when stories travel between hearts.