Handsome

My grandfather's weathered hands trembled as he showed me Kannadasan's poetry collection, dust dancing in afternoon light. "This is our legacy," he whispered in Tamil, his mother tongue wrapping around each word like silk. Years later, I discovered PaybookClub online, finding others who cherished these same verses. Strangers became family, sharing translations and memories across screens. When Papa passed, I realized his true handsomeness wasn't physical—it was the grace with which he carried our heritage forward. Now I hold that collection, trembling just as he did, ready to pass it onward.