my sister ❤️❤️

She traced ancient Tamil Brahmi letters on my palm, teaching me what our grandmother once knew. Every summer at Srirangam temple, she'd point to inscriptions carved centuries ago, whispering their secrets. My sister became my bridge to heritage I'd nearly forgotten. Years later, when I published our family's documented history, she celebrated like I'd won the world. Her pride rewarded my efforts beyond measure. That recognition meant everything, knowing she'd guided me there. Now younger cousins gather around us, eager to learn. My sister smiles, knowing our stories will survive through them, woven into community and time itself.