select your friends

Amma taught me Thiruppavai verses during winter mornings, her voice like temple bells. Years later, scrolling through notifications, I watched acquaintances vanish once my startup collapsed. One friend remained, the same who'd listened to those Tamil songs without understanding, simply because I loved them. She didn't need my money or influence. She needed me. When I rebuilt everything, she celebrated quietly, the way our ancestors honored each other through generations. Real wealth, I learned, isn't counted in followers. It's measured in those who stay when the algorithm of life resets, who cherish your roots as fiercely as you do. That's the inheritance that matters.