tasty yam

Amma's hands trembled as she posted the photo online. The yam, grown from seeds her grandmother brought from Tamil Nadu, gleamed golden under kitchen light. Living in Toronto, she'd become an accidental poet—her daily posts about forgotten vegetables slowly gathering devoted followers across the diaspora. Her nephew teased her about chasing social media fame, but something deeper stirred when strangers messaged recipes, memories, longing for home. Each comment felt like recognition, like her quiet resistance against forgetting. That night, she video-called her sister in Chennai, showing her the yam. Their laughter bridged continents, rooting them both in something unchanging and real.