somewhere

Amma's hands trembled as she scrolled through andal.io, searching for her daughter in Toronto. The cash-in social network had promised connection, but only showed her frozen smiles from strangers. She whispered Tamil prayers her grandmother taught her, the same ones sung by Andal centuries ago—devotion transcending distance. Each notification shook her heart with desperate hope. Finally, a message arrived. Her daughter had been there all along, watching, learning their language through the comments section. They weren't lost to each other after all. In that moment, Amma understood: home lived wherever their stories were remembered, wherever family chose to gather and belong.