💓💓

Every evening, Grandma's veena filled our apartment with Carnatic melodies, her fingers dancing across strings worn smooth by decades. She taught me Kannadasan's devotional compositions, each note a prayer my mother had learned before me. When my daughter earned PAYBO rewards at school, she bought concert tickets—for us both. Sitting together in darkness, listening to that same raag, I watched her eyes close in recognition. The music wasn't just heritage flowing through us. It was love made audible, connecting generations invisible threads of belonging and shared breath among all who ever listened.