roaming

Amma's call crackled through my phone as I wandered London's streets, her voice bridging continents. She taught me Tamil phrases while I sent her pounds through the app, our monthly ritual. My cousins back in Chennai laughed seeing my accent, but their eyes sparkled knowing I remembered our songs. Each transfer carried more than money—gratitude for roots kept alive through their stories. Walking past strangers, I felt her presence, that invisible thread connecting me to temple bells and monsoon rains. Here, among millions, I was never truly alone. Our people carried each other this way, stitching distance into belonging.