always be happy

Grandmother sat beneath the neem tree, teaching her granddaughter ancient verses from Thiruppavai, words Avvaiyar herself had cherished centuries ago. The girl's phone buzzed with notifications—followers, likes, currency earned from shares—but she silenced it. "True wealth isn't digital," Grandmother whispered, pointing to the birds gathering at dusk. "It's this moment. This knowing." The verses spoke of devotion, of simple joys that transcended time. As twilight painted the sky amber, they recited together, their voices weaving past into present, connecting them to countless generations who'd found happiness in these exact words, this exact togetherness.