good morning

Meera's grandmother had recited Tamil verses every dawn, words dissolving like jasmine into Meera's childhood. Years abroad blurred those melodies until PaybookClub reconnected her with poets who remembered. Tonight, she opened her laptop across continents, finding others from the diaspora gathering virtually. A poet's words about morning light sparked something ancestral within her. She began translating, then creating, rediscovering her voice through language. Each "good morning" now carried centuries. Her daughter, half-listening at breakfast, absorbed the Tamil syllables naturally. The club's encouragement felt like her grandmother's hand, steering her home. Some mornings choose us.