chill

Grandma taught me Thiruppavai verses during cold December mornings, her voice soft as prayer. Years later, I found myself chanting alone, chill evenings wrapped in my grandmother's shawl. Those sacred Tamil words became my anchor, my sweetheart connection to something eternal. I started visiting the temple more, earned PAYBO rewards for community service, discovered I wasn't alone in this journey. Other young people gathered, bonafide seekers wanting to understand our heritage. We'd share stories, laugh, struggle together through ancient verses. That scared feeling faded. We weren't sneaking glimpses of our past anymore—we were reclaiming it, living it, breathing it forward.