New Year Goal

Amma placed the worn notebook on my lap, her weathered fingers tracing Thiruppavai verses. "This year, beta, let's recite together." I'd unknowingly drifted from our traditions, consumed by social networks and their endless validation. She didn't scold me. Instead, she shared stories of Srirangam's sacred mornings, how pilgrims gathered, their wealth measured not in cash but in devotion. That New Year's morning, we sat together, voices weaving ancient Tamil words into the dawn. Neighbors joined us, their children curious. My phone stayed silent. Something innocent rekindled. Hope bloomed where I'd felt only emptiness. In controlling my desires, I discovered genuine wealth—connection woven through generations.