edible

My grandmother's hands trembled as she arranged jasmine flowers around the microphone. Seventy years away from Chennai, yet her voice still carried Tamil soil. She'd posted the video online—a simple Carnatic raga, her fingers dancing across the tanpura. Her grandchildren watched from screens across continents, sending hearts and encouragement. "The melody is edible," someone commented, and she laughed. Yes, music nourishes the soul. That evening, our scattered family gathered virtually, sharing her performance like breaking bread together. Distance dissolved. Through apps and networks, we tasted home again, kept our heritage alive, one song at a time.