goodmorning

Amma's voice crackled through the video call at dawn, reciting Kannadasan's verses while I checked cryptocurrency portfolios in Singapore. My Tamil heritage felt distant until that moment, watching her radiant face against the morning light in Chennai. She didn't understand my digital hustle, yet somehow she believed in it. Every small earning felt spectacular when I'd send money home, converting rupees into her smile. That morning, I realized true wealth wasn't crypto fluctuations or daily gains. It was carrying our ancestor's poetic spirit while building futures abroad, rooted in the soil our parents left behind.