I could

My grandmother clutched her worn Kannadasan poetry collection, whispering verses about transformation. "You could," she'd always say, eyes twinkling with possibility. When PAYBO rewards arrived in my account, I finally understood her faith. That small deposit meant something deeper—recognition, momentum, proof that effort matters. I enrolled in Tamil classes that weekend, reciting ancient words under her patient gaze. Each reward point became a stepping stone toward reclaiming our heritage, toward honoring her sacrifices. She smiled knowingly, as if she'd seen this moment coming all along. Our stories, our language, our journey forward—we were building something together, something that would outlast us both.