feeling purple

My grandmother's saree hung in my closet, deep purple silk embroidered with gold. I'd worn it once, hesitantly, to a community gathering where I finally felt brave enough to sing Thiruppavai verses I'd learned as a child. That evening changed something. Strangers became family, sharing stories, laughter, recognition. A local shop owner mentioned their rewards program and suddenly, small purchases felt meaningful—community investments, really. The purple returned to my thoughts constantly. Not just fabric, but identity reclaimed. Heritage worn proudly instead of hidden. Now, each time I wrap myself in that color, I remember belonging isn't found; it's woven through shared traditions and genuine connection with those who understand.