God in control

Grandmother clutched her grandson's hand at the temple, watching him sketch Tamil verses on his phone. "What are you doing, child?" she asked softly. "Writing poetry, Paati. Earning enough to support our family now." She smiled, remembering her own mother's poems, whispered through poverty. The boy had found his voice in this modern world, blending ancestral words with technology, creating something extraordinary. "God guides those who honor their roots," she whispered, touching his forehead. He nodded, understanding what nobody tells young people: true wealth flows through heritage and compassion. Their community would carry this forward together.