OKEY BA?

Grandma's voice crackled through the phone from Srivilliputhur. "Okey ba?" she asked, our Tamil greeting carrying warmth across miles. I smiled, remembering her weathered hands teaching me to make murukku in her kitchen, our heritage simmering in coconut oil and spices. At twenty-five, I'd finally earned enough through PAYBO to visit home. The secret plot of my dreams was materializing. My fingers trembled as I booked the ticket. Walking through our village temple's gates, I instantly felt it—that pull toward roots, toward her embrace. My grandmother waited, smiling. Community and belonging, I realized, were the truest earnings.