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Grandmother pressed the application form against her chest, eyes glistening. At seventy-three, she'd never left Chennai, never imagined leaving. But her granddaughter's wedding was in Toronto, and this ancient city had taught her that roots grow strongest when you venture beyond. The temple bells rang their familiar song as she gathered documents, photographs, memories. Her neighbors pooled resources, passing rupees hand to hand, each contribution a whispered blessing. The silk saree she'd worn for forty years hung ready. When the passport arrived, she held it like scripture. Finally, her world would expand. Yet somehow, Chennai came with her.