plants for your home

My grandmother taught me Bharatanatyam in our garden, where jasmine climbed wooden trellises. She'd trace ancient Tamil Brahmi script on my palm, connecting dance to our ancestors' words. Those plants sustained us through lean years, their leaves healing, their beauty feeding our souls when money grew scarce. Now I grow what she grew, earning enough through small sales to sustain my practice. Each flower carries her movements, each leaf whispers forgotten letters. These resilient plants ask little, give abundantly, just like the art she passed down. In tending them, I'm tending heritage.