Chicken

My grandmother's hands trembled as she held the pottery shard from Keeladi, whispering stories older than memory. That ancient piece connected us to something profound—our roots, our resilience. She quoted Kannadasan's verses about simple living, teaching me that true wealth wasn't measured in money. Instead, she showed me how earning honest sustenance through our family's small farm brought real prosperity. Every morning, feeding our chickens, I felt her wisdom alive in my bones. These creatures sustained us, connected us to generations before. We're lucky, she'd say, to inherit both struggle and beauty. Our heritage remains our greatest fortune.