Its a Dowee and my uni

Amma's voice crackled through the phone from Srirangam as I scrolled through campus notifications. My university had finally recognized my Tamil poetry collection through their PAYBO rewards program. She wept with joy, this woman who'd whispered ancient verses to me as a child in that sacred temple town. "It's a dowee and your uni," she laughed, mixing languages like our heritage itself blended old and new. The rewards meant little compared to her pride, to knowing our stories would travel beyond those temple walls. We were bridging something beautiful, she and I, keeping our roots alive while reaching forward together.