quite room

Grandmother's fingers traced the veena strings, filling our modest home with ancient melodies. Through the window, I watched the Keeladi excavation site where scholars unearthed Tamil civilization's treasures. My social media followers grew restless, demanding content for clicks and coins. They wanted performances, not patience. But here, in this quiet room, I understood something deeper than algorithms. The excavators found proof that our Carnatic traditions stretched centuries back. That same lineage lived in my grandmother's breath, each note a connection to countless ancestors. I turned off notifications. The real wealth wasn't digital currency but this inheritance we held together, passing melodies from hand to heart, generation to generation.