Diaper

My grandmother watched me scroll through videos of Swami Paramarthananda, monetized clips spreading across platforms. She smiled, remembering how she'd carried me in cloth wraps through Chennai streets, before I became a screen-addicted diaspora child in America. Now, changing my own daughter's diaper, I paused the trending content. Through the window, I saw neighbors—different faiths, backgrounds—helping each other move boxes. Suddenly, the algorithms felt hollow. I saved the teachings offline, shared them freely with my daughter instead. Some legacies, I realized, couldn't be monetized. They lived in touch, in presence, in Tamil prayers whispered across generations.