She sighed again as she walked into the final room. It was also empty, but soon she would fill it. Against the back wall were four large shelves for her deities and a small shelf underneath for photos of her Appa, Mohan, Rajan’s Appa and Lali. She was excited about the new shrine room and the statues it would house. There was Lord Ganesha—all prayers started with an invocation to the serious elephant-headed god—Rajan’s favourite deity of course. She preferred Ganesha’s younger brother, the handsome Lord Murugan. Her mother had given her a new statue of Lord Krishna. The young lord was standing, playing his flute, his traditional white clothing contrasting against the beautiful blue of his skin. She thought about putting the statue in the hallway so that all of her visitors could see it, but Amma had asked her to keep it in the shrine room where it would be safer, away from Nandan. Her shrine room would also have the Virgin Mary and a beautiful picture of our Lord Jesus Christ, along with St Christopher. Her new neighbours had thoughtfully given her a statue of Lord Buddha meditating peacefully, which she would include too. All gods were welcome in her home; she wanted everyone’s blessings.

She was counting the weeks for the house to be ready. Amma would do the milk boiling ceremony and stock her kitchen with rice, salt, sugar, turmeric, coriander, and cumin seeds—all the essentials. The temple priest had offered to do a more detailed ‘moving-in’ poosai with offerings to Lord Ganesha, to remove the obstacles from their life here—in their new home. She couldn’t wait.

•

Nala glided along the polished cement floor. She lifted her sari ever so slightly when she stepped from the main hall to the corridor that led to the bedrooms. The corridor and bedrooms had wooden floors and she didn’t want the hem of her sari to get caught—it was deep blue in colour, fashionably called Royal Blue, and matched the Ceylon sapphire necklace she was wearing. Apparently the Queen of England was partial to Ceylon sapphires too. She liked the young queen; she was so pretty and poised. They had a lot in common.

She shut the door to the corridor behind her, muffling the noise from the party a little. Everyone was there: Rajan’s colleagues, their neighbours, and a few of their cousins. He hadn’t wanted to host the celebration.

‘It’s showing off, Nala,’ he said, embarrassed at her suggestion.

‘No, it’s not. You’re the youngest doctor to be promoted to Chief Consultant at Colombo General—and the first Tamil. I’m proud of you and we should celebrate,’ she insisted.