Love the red attire

Grandmother's hands trembled as she adjusted my crimson silk saree, the same shade worn during Thiruppavai recitations decades ago. My post gained thousands of views, notifications flooding endlessly. Some found it beautiful, others dismissive, a few uncomfortably hostile. The comments stung sometimes, yet I persisted, sharing our traditions through screens. My daughter watched, understanding. This digital space, however flawed, connected us to cousins abroad who'd nearly forgotten our culture. The modest earnings helped fund our community's annual recitation event. Draped in red, I wasn't just performing for algorithms. I was threading together generations, one post at a time.