good morning

Priya woke in her grandmother's Srivilliputhur home, sunlight streaming through ancient wooden shutters. She'd posted a simple photo of chai steaming in morning light, never expecting it to go viral. Followers multiplied, brands noticed, and suddenly her humble ritual became profitable. She laughed at herself—this dangerous fantasy of monetizing memories felt both expensive and reckless. Yet it worked. Money arrived for authenticity. Her grandmother smiled knowingly, pouring more chai. "You're sharing our story," she whispered, gesturing toward the Srirangam temple visible across rooftops, where their ancestors had gathered for centuries. Some things, Priya realized, were meant for sharing.