so much trees

Every monsoon, Grandmother climbed the coconut grove behind our ancestral home, humming Bhairavi ragas her mother taught her. The melodies drifted through those towering palms like wind through centuries. When developers came knocking, she refused. Those trees held our family's story—each ring a generation, each season a musical memory. She joined PaybookClub, documenting Carnatic compositions alongside neighborhood friends, creating a digital archive of our heritage. Now younger cousins learn raga through her videos beneath those same branches. The trees remain standing, our music preserved, our community stronger. Some inheritances, we learned, grow deeper with sharing.