Patient is virtue

Amma's hands trembled as she counted rupees for my ticket home to Srirangam. Years abroad had taught me impatience, but watching her deliberate each coin humbled me profoundly. She'd saved overnight, refusing shortcuts, teaching me that virtue wasn't naughty rebellion against quick gains. The temple bells rang as I arrived, their sound validating every sacrifice. My cousins gathered, our diaspora scattered across continents, yet bound by stories of patience and faith. We weren't wealthy, but our inheritance ran deeper than any social network could measure. Home meant remembering who we are.