As summer approached and the calendar edged toward mid-June, the renovation crew wrapped up their work at Moksha. Priya trailed her parents as they moved from room to room, inspecting the newly renovated space. The acrid smell from the fire had been replaced by the scent of fresh paint.
“It’s so nice to finally have the lights working properly,” Mumma said, flipping a switch. The basement lit up, shadows scattering in the wake of clean, bright light.
Moksha wore a mask of rebirth, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Priya, on the other hand, doubted she would ever be able to rebuild herself.
“Rakesh!” Mumma called Priya’s father, who had wandered into his office. “We are about to begin thepooja.”
The prayer ritual was intended to bless the new electrical panel and mark a new beginning for Moksha. Priya carried the poojatray, neatly arranged with a small oil lamp, incense sticks, a brass handbell, fresh flowers, and a small container of kumkum powder.
Puppa joined them as Mumma lit the oil lamp, a symbol of light triumphing over darkness. She then lit the incense, the fragrant smoke curling gently as it filled the room. Together, the three of them recited prayers and offered flowers. Mumma added the finishing touch—atilakof kumkum powder on the electrical panel for divine protection—before handing outprasadto share the blessings and celebrate a new beginning.
Puppa returned to his office and came back waving a document. “The inspector signed off on everything,” he announced. “Moksha is back in business!”
“Priya, inform everyone on the family group.Badha ne kaide!We’re celebrating tonight!” Mumma beamed.
Celebrating for the Solankis usually meant a nice dinner at home. Spending money on dining out was as rare as snow in the Kutch desert. The best gatherings were ones where wallets remained firmly zipped. Maximum joy, minimal expense. Nowthatwas true cause for celebration. Priya smiled as she followed her parents out of Moksha, the sun catching on the freshly cleaned windows.
“I’m so glad the power is back on in the apartment,” Mumma said, pausing to take in the uncluttered lot. No more contractor trucks, tangled extension cords, and dust-covered tarps.
“Now if only the reporters would take off too,” Puppa muttered, nodding toward the cars still parked on the gravel patch outside the property.
Mumma sighed, started for the apartment door, then turned back. “Priya, can you bring my blue suitcase from the coach house? I need the spice mix I brought from Vinod Uncle’s.”
Priya nodded and headed toward the coach house. Just as she stepped inside, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen—then exhaled with relief. Finally, a familiar name.
“Brooke!” she answered. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days.”
“I’m still in Ubud,” Brooke replied, her voice heavy and cracking.
“Are you okay?” Priya froze, concerned for her best friend.
“I’m never going to recover, Pri. Ever.”
Priya’s stomach dropped. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, Brooke.”
“It’s Lady Whiskerbottom,” Brooke wailed. “She’s gone, Pri. And it’s my fault she’s dead.”
“Oh, Brooke. I’m so sorry. What happened?”
Brooke sniffed loudly. “You know how she hated all my boyfriends, right? Well, I hooked up with her healer. He’s so yummy, Pri, I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want it to interfere with her therapy, so I made sure she never saw us together, but last night…” Her sobs intensified. “I thought she was out after her session, so I told him to stay. I’m pretty sure she woke up and saw us. She can’t jump on the bed anymore, so she probably just watched.”
Brooke’s voice cracked as she continued, barely able to get the words out. “I just keep imagining her little eyes peeking over the edge, completely devastated, Pri! It must have broken her heart then and there. I’m such a shithead. My cat died while I was having the best orgasm of my life.”
“You don’t know that for sure, Brooke,” Priya said, biting her lip.
“I do! She made sure I knew. She peed all over the guy’s pants, then she crawled into my favorite bag and died.”
“The Birkin?”
“Yes, it’s ruined forever, Pri. Whenever I see it now, I’ll think of how I failed her in her final moments.”
“Oh Brooke, you gave Lady Whiskerbottom the life of royalty. She knew she was loved, and that’s what counts.” Priya paused, then said solemnly, “She lived a long and full life, and she couldn’t have asked for a better mom.”
“I have to announce her death on social media,” Brooke moaned, blowing her nose again. “A final picture of her on her favorite throw with her monogrammed collar.”
“I’m so sorry, Brooke. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’m flying back with her body. I want her buried at Knight Estates, and I’d like her to have a proper send-off. Could you arrange a funeral for her at Moksha?”
