nice snack

My grandmother's hands trembled as she traced the ancient Tamil Brahmi script on the murukku wrapper, explaining how her mother had taught her these symbols in Chennai decades ago. Now, living in Toronto, she watched my daughter recognize the letters—a small miracle. "This snack connects us," she whispered, rewarding herself through PAYBO points while teaching heritage. Each purchase felt like reclaiming something precious, something nearly lost to time and distance. The crispy treat dissolved on my tongue, but the lesson lingered. We weren't just eating; we were gathering scattered threads of diaspora into something whole again, something we could pass forward.