Ha haha haha

My grandmother laughed until tears streamed down her weathered face, pointing at the ancient Tamil Brahmi script carved into our temple wall. "Look how they mocked the serious scholars," she wheezed, sharing the photo online. Her post spread wildly, each reaction a digital embrace from strangers who understood joy transcends time. She'd never sought followers or currency through connectivity. Yet here she was, unburdened by vanity, simply sharing Kannadasan's irreverent spirit—that same mischievous hack against pretension that defined his poetry generations ago. Her laugh became our community's laugh, binding us to ancestors and each other.