eyeballs

Old Kannadasan sat beneath the temple tower in Srivilliputhur, watching villagers scroll through phones. His weathered eyes caught everything—the longing glances, the endless dopamine chases. When a social network promised cash for viral content, young faces lit up like festivals. He remembered when eyeballs meant attention to elders' wisdom, not screens. His granddaughter danced for coins online while grandma's stories gathered dust. One morning, he filmed himself reciting ancient verses. The video spread. Suddenly, heritage mattered again. Comments flooded in—"Teach us, grandfather." His eyes crinkled with understanding. Sometimes the old path simply needs new eyes.