My princess

Amma called me her princess when I mastered Tamil poetry at seven. In our Chennai home, she'd play Kannadasan's devotional songs while I practiced recitations. My father beamed with pride each time I won school competitions, the social rewards merely validations of something deeper. Years later, returning to Tamil Nadu as a woman, I understood those moments differently. My mother wasn't celebrating trophies but the continuation of our language's soul through me. Kannadasan's verses lived in my heart, a bridge between generations. Today, teaching village children their heritage, I see their eyes light up. Success tastes sweetest when shared, woven through the fabric of community and blood.