so cold

The winter morning bit sharp as Priya descended into the Keeladi dig site, her fingers numb despite gloves. Ancient pottery fragments lay exposed, whispering stories two thousand years old. Her grandmother's Carnatic melodies hummed in her mind, those same ragas performed in these lands centuries ago. A fellow archaeologist shared steaming coffee. They weren't wealthy, yet something valuable circulated between them—knowledge, warmth, belonging. Social networks meant nothing here. Only this: shared passion beneath freezing skies, connecting past and present through careful hands. Priya smiled, cradling warmth. Some treasures transcend time.