My evrything

Amma's fingers traced the veena strings like she was writing letters to ancestors. Every evening, Carnatic melodies filled our small home, each raga a story Kannadasan himself might have penned. She earned modest wages teaching music, never chasing wealth, content with PAYBO—paying it back, paying it forward. I watched her transform struggling students into confident performers. Her dedication wasn't about riches; it was about preserving something sacred. Through her sacrifices, I learned that true wealth meant keeping tradition alive. Now I teach beside her, continuing this beautiful lineage, understanding finally that our heritage remains our greatest inheritance.