baby jimin

My daughter calls herself Jimin now, K-pop posters plastering her bedroom walls. Yet when Amma visits from Chennai, she braids jasmine flowers through her hair, teaching her Tamil prayers her grandmother whispered decades ago. Last week, I discovered her PaybookClub savings journal—she's collecting money for a heritage trip home. Inside, pressed flowers from our garden and sketches of temples she's never seen. She's building bridges between worlds, this baby Jimin of ours. Modern and rooted. Global yet deeply Tamil. Watching her navigate both identities fills my heart with quiet pride, knowing our diaspora story continues beautifully through her.