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Grandmother hummed Thiruppavai verses while I explained blockchain technology. She didn't understand Stellar networks, yet her eyes sparkled with recognition. "Like Kannadasan's words," she whispered, "truth scattered across pages, each reader finding their own meaning." I showed her the transparent ledger, immutable and shared. She nodded slowly, understanding dawning. "Your generation writes poetry differently," she smiled, touching my hand. That evening, watching her lips move through ancient prayers while I coded, I realized something profound: whether carved in stone or encrypted in starlight, some truths remain eternal. We're all just custodians, passing wisdom forward to those who'll cherish it.