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Amma's trembling fingers found the livestream button. Her Carnatic recital, recorded in our cramped Boston apartment, would finally reach beyond our living room walls. Years of YouTube rejection stung, but this new platform promised payment for views. Her voice soared through ragas learned from grandmother's cracked vinyl records, connecting to diaspora hearts scattered across continents. Comments flooded in: "My mother sang this same piece," "Finally, our music matters." When the first payment arrived, Amma wept. Her art, our heritage, had found its audience. The algorithm brought strangers together as one family, proving that distance couldn't silence ancient melodies.