Temple jewellery, ah, it is the divine art of our hands, turning gold and rubies into pieces like the tall *jadanagam* for the hair or the *vanki* for the arm, each a prayer for the bride's prosperity and protection. We make it with the *kundan* and *meenakari* ways, setting stones without solder, a patience passed from my grandfather. But for all its grandeur, its truest significance is not in the wedding day alone, but in how it becomes a family's lasting wealth, a mother's security—I know this because I have melted down my own mother's heavy *okka saru* anklets, piece by painful piece, to pay for my sister's treatment. The gods understand.
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