Kidi Shotta

My grandmother called me "kidi shotta," her little troublemaker, watching me dash through Srirangam's sacred corridors as a child. Those temple runs taught me reverence wrapped in joy, ancient stones humming with generations of devotion. Years later, I returned to those same halls, no longer fleeing but seeking. The temple's timeless beauty rewarded my homecoming with unexpected peace. I discovered that honoring our Tamil heritage wasn't about perfection or restraint—it was about showing up, bringing our whole selves to spaces that shaped us. My grandmother smiled when I told her. Sometimes the greatest reward is simply belonging to something larger than ourselves, carrying forward the warmth of ancestors through mindful presence.