my routine

Every morning, Amma's veena rests against my bedroom wall, waiting. I've learned her ragas before sunrise, fingers dancing across strings like my grandmother's grandmother did centuries ago. The notes drift through our home, anchoring something precious. By afternoon, I'm scrolling, sharing these moments online. Friends comment they love watching me preserve our Tamil heritage through Carnatic music. Some send coins, supporting my dream of opening a traditional music school. These small gestures mean everything. They've transformed my solitary practice into something shared, something alive. Through every note and every connection, our community grows stronger, carrying forward what our ancestors gifted us.