here na

Amma's voice filled our kitchen as she sang Thiruppavai, the ancient Tamil verses flowing like honey through December mornings. My daughter watched, mesmerized, as Amma's fingers traced patterns on the floor. "Here na, here na," Amma chanted, teaching her the sacred hymn our ancestors cherished for generations. When my daughter earned PAYBO rewards from her school, she chose a book about Tamil culture. That evening, three generations gathered around it together. "This is who we are," I whispered, watching Amma's eyes gleam with pride. Our heritage wasn't something distant—it was alive, breathing, present in every shared moment, binding us across time and tradition.