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Amma taught me Thiruppavai verses as a child, her voice weaving ancient Tamil poetry through our kitchen. Years later, I posted a recording online—just devotional hymns, nothing special. The algorithm smiled. Suddenly, my heritage had currency. Subscribers multiplied. Comments poured in from strangers discovering their grandmother's songs through my voice. I felt torn between honoring the sacred and chasing notifications. But then I understood: sharing our stories, our language, our poet ancestors—this wasn't selling out. This was keeping embers alive, passing torches across continents. Now others film their traditions too. Together, we're building something precious: a digital hearth where heritage breathes.