good morning

Amma's voice crackled through the phone at dawn, calling from Madurai. "Machan, did you see the sunrise?" I hadn't. Here in Toronto, winter darkness still clung to the sky. She described the temple bells, the coffee vendor's familiar whistle, neighbors greeting each other in Tamil. Simple moments I'd forgotten. That warmth, that connection, felt like starlight reaching across continents. I made filter coffee, the way she taught me, letting the aroma fill my apartment. Suddenly, thousands of miles dissolved. In that small ritual, I found myself again, rooted in something deeper than distance. Some rewards transcend geography.