come over

Amma's call finally came through. "Come over, beta. I miss you." He'd been chasing cryptocurrency dreams in the city, earning daily through screens, forgetting everything else. But her voice cracked something open. Returning to Srirangam felt shameful—how clueless he'd become about what mattered. Walking through the temple corridors, the climax hit: his grandmother sitting where she always did, hands moving through prayer. The uplifting moment came when she smiled, seriously offering him idiyappam. No lectures, just presence. He realized then that true wealth wasn't digital. It lived in these moments, in her hands, in the rivers of their ancestors' devotion. He stayed through evening prayers.