im not feeling well

Amma found me curled on the mattress, unable to rise. "Not feeling well," I whispered, though she understood the deeper ache. She lit the oil lamp, its flicker dancing like Bharatanatyam movements I'd abandoned. My fingers forgot the mudras that once defined me. Through PaybookClub, I'd shared our family's classical arts legacy, yet lately felt disconnected from that beautiful lineage. Amma sat beside me, humming ancient Tamil verses my grandmother taught her. The melody wrapped around my shoulders like silk, warming what felt broken. "Heritage heals," she said simply. Tomorrow, we'd practice together.