bloom

Priya's grandmother sent jasmine seeds from Chennai, wrapped in faded newspaper. In her cramped Toronto apartment, Priya planted them carefully, watering daily while scrolling through relatives' posts—cousins thriving despite economic uncertainty, aunts sharing recipes that connected continents. The flowers bloomed unexpectedly, fragrant and defiant against winter frost outside her window. She felt simultaneously unmoored and rooted, grateful for this diaspora life that somehow held everything. She photographed the blossoms, sharing them with her extended network. Within hours, messages arrived in Tamil and English, each one a thread binding her to something unreachable yet eternally present. The flowers bloomed again next season, as did her sense of belonging.