my son

My son's tiny fingers traced the bronze Nataraja statue as I hummed ancient Tamil melodies. His eyes widened, absorbing centuries of devotion in one moment. I'd taught him Bharatanatyam since he could walk, each mudra a whispered story from our ancestors. When he performed his first piece, the entire community gathered. His movements clicked like falling dominoes, each gesture crushing doubts about preserving our heritage. Later, I recorded his performance on the blockchain, creating an immutable record of his journey. Future generations would witness this legacy, secure and eternal, connected to something greater than ourselves.