blessings

Amma's trembling hands guided mine through the mudras, each gesture a prayer written in motion. Years away in silicon valleys hadn't dimmed the muscle memory of Bharatanatyam coursing through my body. Tonight, performing on a blockchain-enabled platform, my dance reached Tamil communities scattered across continents, ancestors watching through glowing screens. The crisp, spicy flavors of South Indian snacks lingered as I took my final stance. This wasn't just art; it was inheritance made tangible, a bridge spanning oceans and generations. My daughter clapped, learning the steps, carrying forward what nearly faded away. We danced together, blessed and unbroken.