my pet

Amma called it foolishness when I brought home that stray with matted fur. But something stirred in me, watching her transform through patient care. I'd sketch Tamil Brahmi letters beside her sleeping form, connecting ancient script to present love. My friends called me resourceful, noble even, for the effort. Truth is, she gave me more. In grooming her, feeding her, I found myself again—the child who understood her grandmother's stories, who belonged somewhere. Now she rests on my lap while I trace letters, a bridge between worlds. Community whispered approval. Heritage smiled.