HOLD ON

Grandma clutched the worn Kannadasan poetry book as I explained blockchain to her. She didn't understand crypto, but she understood struggle. Her father had recited those verses during British rule, words worth more than currency. I started earning daily, small amounts, building something. She watched skeptically, then smiled. "Your ancestors held on through worse," she whispered. In this digital age, I'm learning their lesson anew. Hold on to purpose. Hold on to roots. The money matters less than remembering who taught us resilience through Tamil songs and Kannadasan's defiant verses. We endure together.