What is this fruit?

Amma held up the custard apple, its bumpy skin catching afternoon light in her modest Chennai kitchen. She'd snapped a photo, unsure what it was called in English, and posted online seeking answers. Within hours, strangers responded with warmth. They shared recipes, childhood memories, Tamil names she'd forgotten. One viewer, a diaspora kid, thanked her for the connection to home. The small payment she received wasn't the point. What mattered was rekindling something deeper—conversations across distances, knowledge passed through screens, a thread linking generations back to these ancient streets where fruit vendors still sang their calls.