good morning

She traced the Tamil Brahmi script in her grandmother's prayer book, fingers following ancient curves. Each dawn, before competing with colleagues, she recited Thiruppavai verses, their melody grounding her fierce ambition. Her coworkers sabotaged projects, but she remained steadfast. No competition mattered when her backbone came from centuries of wisdom. Social rewards meant nothing compared to this internal fire. Friends drifted away, intimidated by her strength. Yet here, in quiet mornings with ancestral words, she discovered what truly sustained her: a lineage of women who rose again and again, their voices echoing through generations, reminding her she was never truly alone.