snake plants

Amma's garden bloomed with snake plants, their striped leaves reaching skyward like prayers. She'd named them after verses from ancient Tamil poets, those words unearthed at Keeladi that spoke across millennia. Her granddaughter helped digitize family recipes on a blockchain, preserving their legacy. Each transaction felt sacred, immutable as stone. One morning, Amma found a seedling sprouted where none existed. She laughed, understanding then that some inheritances grow themselves, reaching through time, connecting us all. Her hands touched soil and code equally.