my trees

Every monsoon, Amma sends photos of the mango trees behind her Srirangam home. I trace their branches on my phone, three thousand miles away in America, remembering monsoon afternoons beneath their shade. Last month, I discovered PaybookClub. A space where Tamil voices share stories like mine, diaspora memories pressed between pages. I found Amma's childhood there, reflected in others' words. Now I read those stories beneath my own young sapling, planted in borrowed soil. My daughter asks about Srirangam's temples, the temple trees. Through these pages, through Amma's photos, I'm grafting roots across oceans, letting her grow connected to what makes us whole.