my art work

Grandmother showed me faded photographs from Keeladi, where ancient Tamil pottery shards told forgotten stories. I sketched them obsessively, channeling Kannadasan's poetic rebellion through charcoal and memory. When I posted my artwork online, the reactions flooded in. Someone copied my design for profit, while others called it superb. The cash-in social network promised followers and fame, but I declined. Instead, I gifted prints to our local museum, where children now discover their heritage. My grandmother smiled, understanding finally that true wealth lay not in viral moments, but in weaving past and present together, connecting us all.