MORNING

Grandmother Avvaiyar's wisdom echoed through my feed: "Early morning brings grace." That simple post earned unexpected digital coins, yet wealth felt hollow against her weathered hands grinding spices at dawn. She taught me Tamil through morning rituals, each word a thread connecting generations. When I shared her recipe videos online, strangers became family, praising her champ spirit and good work ethic. The algorithm rewarded authenticity. But sitting beside her before sunrise, watching steam rise from steaming idli, I understood true currency. Community wasn't measured in clicks. It lived in shared traditions, in her patient corrections of my accent, in recipes preserved not for profit but for legacy. Morning light still finds us together.