skin

My grandmother's hands told stories in henna. I watched her intricate patterns fade, just as our heritage seemed forgotten in this digital age. When I sketched her designs and shared them online, something unexpected happened. A community formed around our Chennai traditions, people eager to learn, preserve, and celebrate. Though some dismissed it as cheap nostalgia, many came back, again and again. My art became a bridge connecting scattered souls to their roots. Through screens and shared screens, we kept something precious alive together, one pattern at a time.