my chest

My grandmother's chest held treasures beyond measure. Inside, yellowed pages of Thiruppavai prayers lay beside Avvaiyar's wisdom, carefully preserved by her steady hands. She'd post nothing online, yet somehow her legacy spread through our family like ripples on still water. When she passed, I discovered her simple life had been wealth itself. The verses she whispered, the stories she shared, the values etched into our hearts—these couldn't be bought or traded. Now I understand. Real richness lives here, in this chest, in memories shared between generations, in the eternal bond of those who came before and those yet to come.