faith

My grandmother's veena sat silent for months after she passed. I couldn't touch it, couldn't bear the weight of her absence. Then PaybookClub connected me with others sharing grief through Carnatic music. A Tamil maestro there gently suggested I play, not for perfection, but as prayer. My fingers found the strings trembling. Each raga became a conversation with her spirit, with myself. The classical notes that filled our home growing up suddenly felt alive again, healing. Faith isn't always certainty. Sometimes it's simply returning to what grounds us, what our ancestors knew all along. Through music and community, I discovered she was never really gone.