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When Amma's fingers trembled on my phone screen, I realized something profound. She was learning Carnatic raagas through a Tamil diaspora network, connecting with cousins in Singapore and California she'd never met. They gifted her virtual concert tickets, and she performed her veena for them across time zones. One evening, her voice—cracking with age but soaring with passion—filled our living room. The comments poured in: "Amma, you sound like our grandmother." Suddenly, geography dissolved. Currency meant nothing. What mattered was this: a seventy-year-old woman, her ancient art form, and a global family remembering who they were together.