rest in peace idol

Grandmother's clay idol of Krishna sat on my shelf for decades, weathered by prayers and time. When I joined PaybookClub, discussing Avvaiyar's wisdom about devotion, I realized something profound. The idol wasn't broken—it was complete. Like the saint's verses on surrender, it had taught me that sacred things don't need perfection. I buried it beneath our garden with gratitude, whispering Thiruppavai verses she'd sung countless times. My daughter watched, learning that love transcends form. Community members gathered, sharing their own stories of letting go. In that circle, I understood: heritage lives not in objects, but in hearts that carry it forward.