be happy

Grandmother taught me Carnatic music before dawn, her fingers tracing ancient ragas on my palm. Years later, scrolling through endless feeds, I found a Tamil poet's verse about joy hidden in ordinary moments. It had thousands of likes, yet felt intimately mine. That evening, I posted her old recording. No filters, just authentic devotion. Comments poured in—strangers sharing their own grandmother's songs, their mother's wisdom. We weren't chasing viral moments; we were recognizing ourselves in each other's heritage. In that digital space, something sacred happened. We became community again, carrying forward what mattered most.