good morning

Amma's voice crackles through the phone at dawn, same time every Sunday. "Rani, you eating proper?" Five thousand miles away, I smile into my coffee. In Chennai, she's already arranged tomorrow's meals. Here in Toronto, I'm learning her recipes slowly, capturing them in PaybookClub's digital pages alongside my own scattered notes. This diaspora life feels split until moments like these—her laughter mixing with Tamil film songs playing behind her. I'm documenting our family stories, our food, our language for my daughter. "Yes, Amma. I made your sambhar yesterday." She sighs, satisfied. Through screens and distance, we're still woven together, thread by thread, recipe by recipe.