good morning mukono

Amma's voice crackles through the phone from Chennai as sunlight floods my Kampala kitchen. She's describing the temple festival happening without me, and somehow, watching the dawn here feels like witnessing it there too. I've carried Tamil traditions across continents, recreating recipes, teaching my daughter prayer songs. My friends call me lucky, envious of this bridge between worlds I've built. But it's work, beautiful work. This morning, I realize the greatest reward isn't the acknowledgment—it's knowing my family's stories live on, transforming lives in unexpected places, connecting us all to something timeless and true.