mini gardennnn

Amma's hands trembled as she planted jasmine seeds in recycled containers on her Chennai apartment balcony. Years in the diaspora had scattered our family across continents, yet this small garden rooted her to home. She'd share photos with cousins online, their comments flowing like a familiar raga—some rebellious about tradition, others painfully nostalgic, a few dishonestly cheerful. The garden became her sanctuary, where she hummed Carnatic melodies learned from her mother. When a neighbor offered money for her seedlings, she refused. This wasn't commerce; it was connection, a living bridge spanning distance and time, keeping our heritage blooming across generations.