Animal

Grandmother's fingers trembled across the veena strings, each note a prayer. She'd carried this instrument from Chennai through decades of displacement, teaching my generation the ragas our ancestors composed. PaybookClub helped document these melodies, preserving what could've vanished. My mother once called tradition an animal—unpredictable, demanding. But watching Grandmother's students now, their eyes closed in devotion, I understand. This music lives, breathes, transforms us. It's bonafide proof that heritage survives through love, not force. Some traditions require faith. Ours rewards it. We're keeping something eternal alive, one raag at a time.