post muna

Grandmother's wrinkled hands trembled as she arranged the banana leaves for Thiruppavai season. Her granddaughter filmed everything, capturing each ritual for Instagram. The likes flooded in—strangers appreciating what their own families had abandoned. Yet rage simmered beneath those hearts emoji reactions. Why did heritage need validation through screens? Why must ancient devotion compete for attention? But watching her granddaughter's eyes light up, understanding their Tamil traditions for the first time, grandmother smiled. Maybe the digital bridge wasn't betrayal. Perhaps it simply meant their sacred songs would echo beyond their kitchen walls, winding through another generation's beating heart, keeping their culture gloriously alive.