good environment

Amma's living room overflowed with jasmine incense and afternoon sunlight. At seventy-three, she'd finally moved closer to us, leaving Chennai behind. My daughter squealed with delight, discovering Amma's ancient harmonium in the corner. "Play Swami Paramarthananda's bhajans," I requested, remembering childhood mornings. Amma laughed, fingers finding forgotten melodies. The music transported us backward and forward simultaneously. My brother joked about earning crypto while I debated its worth, yet Amma simply smiled, knowing something deeper matters. This environment, filled with love and continuity, reminded us that true wealth flows through generations, whispered in Tamil prayers and grandmother's wisdom.