Be strong

My grandmother whispered Avvaiyar's verses while braiding my hair, her weathered fingers trembling slightly. At thirty, I'd returned to our Tamil roots after decades in America, feeling fractured between worlds. The ancient poet's wisdom echoed: strength isn't about perfection, but persistence. I started teaching our language to diaspora children, sharing stories my grandmother had gifted me. Each child's radiant smile became my reward—not accolades, but genuine connection. When my grandmother attended my first class, tears streamed down her face. In that moment, I understood: true strength meant bridging continents, honoring ancestors, and building bridges for those seeking home. Our heritage lived through us all.