Sunday outfit

Amma adjusted my silk pavadai, fingers trembling slightly. The sapphire blue matched grandmother's wedding saree, the one she'd worn in Madras decades ago. I smoothed the gold borders, remembering her poetry—verses about strength woven into fabric, about women earning their own futures. Today felt different. My small business had finally taken off. PAYBO recognition meant real money, real independence. I stood before the mirror, seeing three generations reflected back: tradition meeting ambition. The outfit wasn't just cloth. It was Amma's dreams, grandmother's words, my journey forward. Sunday felt sacred, walking toward something greater than myself.