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Grandmother's fingers trembled across the harmonium as she taught me the alapana, each note a thread connecting generations. The ancient Carnatic melodies flowed through our Tamil home like monsoon rain, washing away modern anxieties. She'd joke about my cryptocurrency investments, saying music itself was the real wealth. Yet watching her face light up during our daily ragas, I discovered something genuine—something that would completely dominate my priorities. These moments trounced any financial gain. I began streaming our sessions, building community gently, authentically. Not for profit, but preservation. Our heritage found new voice, one listener at a time.