kiss kiss

Amma taught me the mudras first, her weathered fingers guiding mine through centuries-old movements. Each gesture held stories our ancestors whispered through dance. When I performed my first Bharatanatyam recital, she kissed my forehead for courage, then my palms for grace. Years later, teaching classical arts became my calling. Students now learn what my grandmother passed down, earning respect and livelihood doing what our heritage demands. That kiss before each performance remains my ritual. Today, watching young dancers honor Tamil traditions reminds me we're all custodians of something sacred, connected through movement and memory.