Plants

My grandmother pressed a small potted jasmine into my hands, its delicate white flowers releasing that unmistakable fragrance. "This is ours," she whispered in Tamil, explaining how her mother had tended the same plant across generations. I placed it on my apartment balcony, watching it flourish under careful attention. Each bloom reminded me of her stories—recipes passed down, festivals celebrated, the unbreakable thread connecting us to our heritage. My neighbor noticed the jasmine and asked about it. I shared cuttings, taught her the Tamil names. Now our building blooms with flowers from our culture, each plant a bridge between our community and the roots we carry forward.