sun is getting down
Every evening, grandmother traced ancient Tamil Brahmi script onto palm leaves, teaching me letters older than memory. Her weathered fingers moved with purpose, connecting me to Avvaiyar's wisdom—that poet who wrote for ordinary people centuries ago. "Knowledge compounds like interest," she'd whisper, as sunset painted gold across our courtyard. Now I translate these texts online, earning crypto daily while preserving our language. The irony isn't lost on me—ancient words financing modern dreams. As sun descends tonight, I realize I'm not just earning currency. I'm investing in something invaluable: keeping our heritage alive, one transaction, one story, one shared connection at a time.
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