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Grandmother's hands trembled as she uploaded the video to her account. Fifty followers, mostly grandchildren scattered across continents. For decades, Bharatanatyam had lived only in the temple corridors of Srirangam, her movements sacred whispers. Now, at seventy-three, she'd monetized her passion. Each rupee from views funded her village dance school for girls who couldn't afford lessons. Her youngest granddaughter watched, tears streaming. "You're teaching us all, Amma. Not just steps, but who we are." In that moment, the digital noise faded. Heritage wasn't preserved through screens—it danced through generations, alive and unbroken.