stay safe

Grandma's weathered hands trembled as she clutched my shoulders at Srivilliputhur's ancient temple gates. "Promise me you'll stay safe," she whispered in Tamil, the language wrapping around us like silk. I'd faced bullies at school, their cruel words echoing louder than her prayers. But watching her light oil lamps with such devotion, I understood something profound. Our heritage wasn't fragile—it was ancestral strength. That evening, I earned my first paycheck from tutoring younger kids. Grandma's eyes glistened with pride. She placed her hand on my head in blessing, reminding me that safety came from community, from knowing exactly where I belonged.