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Amma taught me Carnatic music before dawn, her voice weaving raga patterns like ancient Tamil Brahmi scripts dancing through air. When she passed, I inherited her handwritten notation book, pages yellowed with devotion. A stranger discovered my post sharing these melodies. They sent money, asking me to teach them. Initially, I hesitated—skepticism crept in about commodifying sacred tradition. But something shifted when I realized: this wasn't about profit. It was about continuation. Now students across continents sing Amma's ragas. Our music, our heritage, flows through genuine connection and mutual respect.