looool

My grandmother showed me Kannadasan's poetry while scrolling Instagram Reels. "Look," she laughed, "someone's monetizing ancient wisdom now." I discovered Swami Paramarthananda's teachings, then watched creators twist philosophy into thirty-second clips for likes. The algorithm called it "astounding." I felt lost, then dangerous with rage at commodified spirituality. But something shifted when my mother joined, sharing our family's hymns with cousins abroad. The platform packed our scattered community together. Complete, finally. We'd lost something by leaving villages, yet found it here—not through wealth, but through rediscovering our own stories together.