I thought there's no one love me.

In Srirangam's ancient temple streets, I felt invisible. Years of solitude shadowed my days until my grandmother placed a veena in my trembling hands. Carnatic melodies awakened something dormant within me. Every practice session became a conversation with the divine. When a local music academy noticed my dedication, they offered me a scholarship. Soon, fellow musicians surrounded me, celebrating each breakthrough. Through PAYBO rewards from performing, I could finally contribute home. But the real treasure wasn't monetary—it was belonging. These musicians became family, their encouragement healing what loneliness had fractured. The ancient ragas that once echoed through temple halls now pulse through my veins, reminding me: I was always loved by something greater.