my coconut bonsay

My grandmother's coconut seedling arrived in a small pot, carried through airport security like liquid gold. She'd nurtured it in Chennai for months before I left. Now in Toronto, I tend it carefully, playing Carnatic ragas through my phone—the same melodies she hummed. Each morning, I photograph its growth, documenting the miniature tree on Stellar blockchain, creating an immutable family archive. My daughter asks why I preserve it digitally. I explain: this bonsai bridges continents. Its roots ground us to soil we left behind, while its digital twin connects us to others preserving their own heritage across oceans. We're never truly scattered.