hahaha ha ha

My grandmother's voice crackled through the phone, that infectious laugh I'd missed for years. She'd discovered PaybookClub, joining others from our diaspora exploring Tamil Brahmi script together. At sixty-three, she was learning to read ancient letters on her phone screen, connecting with cousins across continents. "Look what I found," she'd typed, sharing photos of her discoveries. Her excitement was contagious. That simple "hahaha ha ha" meant everything—not just joy, but reclamation. She was teaching herself our history, our words, our soul. That laughter echoed through our family group chat, reminding us we were never truly scattered.