my snake plant

Amma brought the cutting from Chennai, wrapped carefully in newspaper from The Hindu. I nearly killed it twice, but something about nurturing this plant connected me to her hands, her garden, her memory. During lockdown, I joined PaybookClub—Tamil diaspora mothers sharing recipes and stories. One evening, discussing Bharatanatyam mudras, I realized my fingers moved like my grandmother's as I watered those leaves. The snake plant thrived. Today, my daughter danced in our living room, its green shoots framing her silhouette like a stage. Through this single plant, generations breathed together, rooted across oceans yet somehow home.