the clouds

Amma stood on her apartment balcony in Toronto, watching monsoon clouds gather above the distant skyline. She'd left Chennai thirty years ago, but summer storms still stirred something ancient within her. Her phone buzzed. A video call from her cousin back home, just checking in. They shared the same sky now, separated by oceans yet connected through invisible threads. Later, she sent money through the family network—not just currency, but love traveling across continents. These small gestures kept roots alive in foreign soil. As rain began falling, she smiled. Her children would understand someday that home lives in memory, community, and the faces we carry forward.