hayahay

Grandmother's voice trembled through my phone speaker as she sang Thiruppavai, those ancient verses about Krishna and devotion. I'd posted the thirty-line melody on the platform that finally paid creators like us. Comments flooded in—some disapproving of monetizing sacred songs, others moved to tears. But Amma didn't care about the money. She cared that her granddaughter remembered. That this Carnatic tradition wouldn't vanish into silence. When my younger cousin messaged asking to learn, I understood: heritage wasn't about belonging to the past. It was about building bridges, together, toward tomorrow.