Nurture

I often look at the crooked corners of my house and find potted plants placed ever so carefully by my mother. There's something about the way she nurtures her plants that reminds me of all the ways she nurtured me. As I gaze at them with a paperback in hand, I can't help but reminisce about the moments she spent teaching me how to identify a certain flower, differentiate between similar-looking trees, or spot a specific bird among others, even though she knew I'd forget the very next second. But I'll never forget the summer evenings we strolled through her rooftop garden, the rainy afternoons when she couldn't be contained indoors (she loves the rain), and the winter mornings when I sat among the houseplants to study, read, or journal. Maybe it was in those moments that I felt most like myself, free from external obligations. Perhaps that’s why, no matter where I go, nature will always remind me of my mother.

-Ananya Gupta

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