Azure

Grandmother held the faded photograph beneath the window's azure light. The poet Kannadasan's words echoed through her memory, those Tamil verses about dignity and struggle that shaped her youth. Her grandson sat beside her, scrolling through endless feeds of curated lives, chasing validation through likes and shares. She squeezed his hand gently. "Real wealth isn't counted in coins or clicks," she whispered, her voice carrying generations of wisdom. "It's in stories like ours, honest and underused, waiting to be uncovered by those who truly listen." The blue light softened everything, making the moment sacred, threading past and present together.