Don't worry about life

Grandmother whispered Thiruppavai verses while grinding rice for our pooris. Her hands moved with practiced grace, humming melodies Kannadasan had immortalized decades ago. "Money comes and goes," she said, "like social media fame." She'd refused joining networks seeking quick cash. Instead, she shared recipes with neighbors, stories with grandchildren, wisdom with anyone listening. That morning, as steam rose from hot oil, she smiled. Her wealth wasn't digital but tangible—golden pooris, love stirred into every batch, traditions passed down through generations. She knew what mattered: community, heritage, the warmth of breaking bread together.