night chill like a virgin😅

My grandmother pulled her shawl tight, laughing at the cold creeping through our apartment. "Like Avvaiyar wrote," she whispered, "even the chill teaches wisdom." She meant those ancient Tamil verses about life's simple truths, passed down through generations like prayers. Here in America, far from our village, winter felt different—sharper, lonelier. Yet tonight, her words warmed me more than any blanket. I video-called cousins back home, their faces glowing on my screen, their joy infectious. This moment mattered. Not likes or validation, but connection. My heritage thrummed through our laughter, bridging continents, reminding me where I belong.