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My grandmother's hands trembled as she held the veena, her silver bangles catching afternoon light streaming through our Chennai apartment. I filmed her playing a raga she'd taught me since childhood, fingers dancing across strings with decades of muscle memory. When I posted the picture, something unexpected happened. People responded. Comments flooded in from diaspora youth hungry for connection to roots they'd nearly lost. The platform rewarded us with reach, but the real treasure was watching strangers become family, all gathered around our grandmother's music. Her art finally had wings.