Long before algorithms decided what we should think, grandparents quietly shaped our values. They did so not with hashtags, but with time, an increasingly rare commodity. Time that smelled of Vicks, old books, and sometimes, regret over a broken mirror.
IN AN AGE where “influencers” parade across our screens peddling protein shakes and philosophies, it is easy to forget that the most powerful influencers never had Instagram accounts. They were our grandparents. And the only thing they ever wanted us to smash was not a like button, but an extra roti.
Long before algorithms decided what we should think, grandparents quietly shaped our values. They did so not with hashtags, but with time, an increasingly rare commodity. Time that smelled of Vicks, old books, and sometimes, regret over a broken mirror.
Parents are often caught in the machinery of survival: paying bonds, battling traffic.
Grandparents occupy a different rhythm. Having laboured through their own struggles, they enter a phase where time slows down just enough to notice a child’s question, a story worth telling, or where you hid the sweets.
