my mums house

Standing beneath the ancient stone archway, I traced fingers across weathered carvings older than memory. My mother's Chennai home holds secrets the Keeladi excavations revealed—pottery shards, bronze vessels, whispers of civilizations thriving here millennia ago. She inherited these walls from her grandmother, who inherited from hers. While I earn crypto daily through remote work, sitting at her wooden desk, I'm anchored to something irreplaceable. The courtyard where she tends tulsi plants, where neighbors gather for chai, where history breathes. This house isn't currency or investment. It's belonging. It's our lineage made tangible, our community's heartbeat, our shared inheritance from countless generations before.