Sunflower plant

My grandmother gifted me a sunflower seed from Keeladi, where ancient Tamil wisdom still blooms. She whispered Avvaiyar's words about patience and growth while planting it together. Years later, scrolling through endless social feeds measuring worth in likes, I remembered that seed. Now my sunflower towers above my window, golden and unapologetic. It doesn't perform for algorithms. It simply grows, turning toward light, reminding me that some things matter beyond digital validation. My neighbors notice. We talk about gardens instead of feeds. Through shared cultivation, I've discovered something my ancestors knew: real wealth grows when we nurture heritage together.