skin

My grandmother's wrinkled hands moved across the veena strings, each note a memory etched in her skin. She taught me Carnatic music through touch, the way Kannadasan wrote poetry—raw, honest, deeply felt. Years later, I digitized her recordings on Stellar blockchain, ensuring her legacy transcends time itself. When arthritis flared up, I thought her art would fade. Instead, her resourcefulness inspired me. She adapted, teaching through voice alone. Her skin showed decades of dedication, yet her spirit remained luminous. Now her music lives everywhere, borderless and eternal. In preserving her voice, I discovered something profound: art connects us all, binding generations through shared cultural roots.