Three weeks later,Priya sat beside her parents in the auditorium, gripping the event program as she took in the scene around her. The energy in the room was electric—contestants shifting in their seats, judges reviewing their notes, industry insiders scanning the room for the next breakout talent. Large screens displayed the competing apps, rotating through their descriptions and logos. This was the kind of room where careers were made. Where people got noticed. Where everything Priya had been working toward finally had a chance to become real.
And then, from her left—
“Chai, beta?”
Priya turned just in time to see Mumma pulling a thermos and a steel glass out of her bottomless bag.
“Mumma!” Priya shot her ayou cannot be seriouslook.
Puppa didn’t even bother looking up. “Seema, this is not the time or place for tea.”
“It’s eleven o’clock,” Mumma muttered, stowing the thermos back into her bag. A moment later, she retrieved a container and popped it open to reveal a stack of flatbreads.
“Thepla?” she asked.
“Seema!” Puppa hissed as the pungent smell of fenugreek and spices filled the air, heads turning in their direction. Priya sank into her seat, cringing.
Mumma sealed the container with a sharp click and crossed her arms. “So many people, and notonesnack in sight! I know, I know.” She waved Puppa off before he could respond. “It’s not that kind of gathering, but still. Would a few pastries kill them? Instead, we have all these screens. Tech zone, schmeck zone.Atototal no-snack zone.”
“Shh,” Puppa silenced, as the lights dimmed and the event began.
The host stepped up to the podium and introduced the judges, highlighting their contributions to the tech industry. He described the success stories of past winners. Some had turned their prize money into full-fledged businesses, some had secured major funding, and others had partnered with top companies to leave their mark on the virtual world. As the speech wrapped up, a tide of anticipation swept through the crowd. It was time to reveal the winners. All eyes turned to the giant screen onstage to see which app would take the top spot.
Priya held her breath. This was it. The moment she had been working toward.
And then, loud enough to be heard over the stillness, Mumma’s stomach let out an unholy growl. She coughed and reached for a water bottle, feigning a dry throat.
A few chuckles rippled through the audience. Priya pressed her lips together, willing herself not to react.
The screen in front of her flickered, names shifting, rankings updating. And then…Priya’s heart slammed into her ribs. There it was.Her app.Lit up among the top three.
Beside her, Puppa’s eyes flared with pride, though he quickly smoothed it over with a measured smile. Mumma, on the other hand, gave nothing away. Drawing attention wasn’t the Solanki way—and years of running a funeral home had trained them to keep their reactions contained.
The speaker leaned into the mic, his smile wide as the murmurs died down. “Every year, we see brilliant minds walk through these doors, but only one entry can take the top spot. As always, it was a tough decision. I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s winner is…” He let the silence stretch for just a beat as the screen refreshed.
Her name popped up the exact moment he said it aloud.
Priya’s stomach flipped.Oh my god. He actually said my name!She blinked at the screen again, almost needing confirmation.That’s me.
Puppa nearly jumped from his seat, looking like he might actually cheer. Mumma’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes growing wide.
“Ketla mayla?How much?” she asked, leaning over Puppa to squeeze Priya’s hand. Because for Mumma, the payout was the real headline.
Priya let out a shaky breath, half laughing, half in shock.
“Seema.” Puppa pried Mumma’s hands from Priya’s lap, his eyes twinkling. “The man is still talking.” He gestured toward the podium, where the speaker was detailing why Priya’s app had caught the judges’ attention.
“This app transforms the funeral planning experience,” the man said. “It centralizes everything a family needs into one easy-to-navigate platform, eliminating the stress of researching dozens of sites separately.”
He clicked the remote, and the app’s interface appeared on the screen. “Imagine being able to find exactly what you need based on your location, cultural background, religious beliefs, and personal wishes—from traditional burials and cremations to aquamations and eco-friendly choices. Need live streaming? Multilanguage support? A florist? A grief counselor? Just set your preferences and browse through profiles that include photos and reviews.”
The slides kept shifting, each one showcasing another feature. The speaker walked the audience through the customization options, virtual memorial spaces, the calendar tool, and private chat rooms.
Priya heard the words, but they drifted past her, distant and blurred. Suddenly, she was eight years old again, standing under the glare of the school auditorium lights. She hopped off the stage, excitement buzzing through her—eager to show Mumma and Puppa her gold medal. But they gravitated toward Ravi, hands folded, voices full of praise. Priya’s steps faltered, confusion twisting inside her.
Afterward, Puppa had explained caste to her. Congratulating Ravi wasn’t about ignoring her. It was about acknowledging the place Ravi’s family held in the community. Priya had nodded like a good daughter, but something had shifted inside her. There were lines in the world she hadn’t seen before that day.
She told herself it didn’t matter. That she would work harder, climb higher, push further, until she was no longer standing in anyone’s shadow, waiting to be seen. And now here she was, in an auditorium filled with the sharpest minds in the industry, her name glowing on a screen for the world to see.
