we need more fish

Grandmother's kitchen smelled of turmeric and memories. She traced ancient Tamil Brahmi characters on flour, teaching me our heritage through her weathered fingers. "These symbols feed the soul," she whispered, preparing our modest fish curry. When neighbors struggled during lockdown, we pooled resources through our community network, sharing what little we had. Each contribution, however small, mattered. Grandmother sold her jewelry for supplies, ensuring everyone ate well. "We need more fish," she'd say, not from greed, but from love. In her kitchen, abundance meant feeding others, honoring our ancestors, and nourishing the bonds that held us together.