be with me.

Amma's weathered hands trembled as she played the veena, each note carrying decades of devotion. Her granddaughter sat cross-legged, finally understanding the ragas that had seemed foreign before. The Carnatic melodies wove through their tiny apartment like incense smoke, connecting past to present. "Stay," Amma whispered between phrases. "Really stay with me this time." The girl realized her grandmother wasn't just asking her to listen—she was inviting her into something sacred, something worth preserving. Through music, through language, through shared breath and beating hearts, they were building something eternal together.