The Devil

My grandmother insisted Bharatanatyam would save my soul from digital addiction. Skeptical, I followed her to Srirangam temple, watching dancers move like prayers. Something shifted watching their mudras, ancient language speaking directly to my heart. That evening, joking with my PaybookClub group about becoming cultured, they teased me relentlessly. But something stuck. I started attending classes, my favourite part becoming the community gathering afterward, grandmothers and teenagers sharing stories over coffee. Now I understand her wisdom. My devil wasn't technology but disconnection. Through dance, I'd found my way home.