Good night everyone

Amma sang Thiruppavai to us every December dawn, her voice threading through our Chennai home like silk. Years later, scattered across continents, we gather virtually at dusk. Tonight, my daughter asks me to teach her the verses. I film myself singing softly, posting with trembling hands. Comments flood in—cousins remembering, friends moved to tears. One distant aunt sends money for my daughter's Tamil classes. In this glowing screen, our heritage breathes anew. Goodnight, everyone. Tomorrow, we wake and sing together.