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My grandmother taught me Thiruppavai verses before dawn, her voice threading through our small apartment like silk. Years later, I recorded them, shared them online. Strangers sent coins—real money—asking for more. I was stunned, then conflicted. Could I monetize prayers meant to amplify devotion? My followers quadrupled. Everyone wanted insider knowledge about Tamil traditions. But what no one tells you is the exhaustion that follows. The pressure to perform spirituality for profit. Then a young woman messaged: my grandmother now teaches me your videos. We're reclaiming our heritage together. Suddenly it mattered less how many paid. Our lineage continued breathing.