The Dalai Lama's Cat and the Power of Meow (The Dalai Lama's Cat 3)

The glow over the horizon was still too strong to look at directly through the window that faced the setting sun, but Zahra carried me to the side of the tower that rose above the garden. With Sid and Serena behind us, holding each other close, we gazed over the lawns and the curving driveway far below. In the golden haze, Kusali and his immaculate waitstaff in their starched white uniforms were setting up cocktail tables. From above, the color symmetry of the flowering plants in the garden beds was strikingly apparent. From this vantage point all was order, civility, and restraint.

Stepping across the small room to the opposite window, we came face-to-face with the Himalaya mountains. From up here they felt startlingly close and looked like not just one jagged range but wave after wave of mountains stretching far into the distance. Their icy caps glistened in the sunset, and rivers poured down their sides like molten gold.

From downstairs we heard a call echoing up the tower. “He’s here!”

Zahra hurried back to the garden window to see an unmistakable figure in red robes making his way along the drive.

Behind them, Sid slipped wordlessly away. We heard his footsteps descending the staircase. Serena turned to follow him.

“Shall we come down, too?” asked Zahra.

“Perhaps stay,” Serena told her. “When His Holiness’s security people told him about the tower, he said he wanted to visit it.”

Of course he would! He may be perfectly enlightened, someone aware of more dimensions of reality than most people even knew existed, but the Dalai Lama always held a childlike curiosity about the world around him and was never afraid to express it. A high tower in a house? Of course he’d want to visit!

Zahra and I stood at the window watching the activity below. We saw Sid and Serena emerge from the house and present His Holiness with white scarves, or katags, in the traditional way. One at a time, he accepted each scarf and then placed them back over their shoulders as he held his hands around their necks briefly and murmured a blessing.

We soon heard footsteps on the tower stairs, muffled voices, and the Dalai Lama’s infectious chuckle; they were making their way to the top.

The moment the Dalai Lama appeared in the room, the light of the sun shifted, becoming softer, less dazzling. We all turned to face the horizon directly—the light entered us and we became one with it, completely absorbed in the afterglow. In his presence, it was as though we had transformed into radiance and bliss, as though he had come to remind us, in this transcendent place, of our own true nature.

The Dalai Lama eventually turned away from the horizon. After bowing toward Zahra and stroking my head briefly, he brought his palms to his heart and murmured mantras under his breath. He gazed out at first at the gardens, then the mount

ains, then through a third window that overlooked the pine forest. There, branches rippled like waves, ablaze in the golden light.

Turning toward Serena and Sid, he smiled. “You don’t need my blessings,” he said. “You will bless this home yourself with your practice of the Dharma.”

Not trusting herself to speak, Serena brought her own hands to her heart.

“Thank you, Your Holiness,” said Sid beside her.

The Dalai Lama looked from one to the other of them, then to Zahra as she placed me down carefully on one of the chairs in the center of the room. “There are very positive karmic bonds between all of you,” he said, nodding.

Zahra stroked me as I settled on the chair. “She’s my little girl,” she murmured, in response to what His Holiness had said.

“Yes,” he chimed after a moment, his voice warm. “There are few bonds stronger than between mother and daughter.”

He seemed to be replying to what she’d just said, but there was something about the way he said it that implied a great deal more. I looked up to see Zahra staring into my eyes. We held each other’s gaze for the longest time before she leaned over to kiss my head.

The Dalai Lama was gone again in a flurry of red robes. He went down the stairs and accepted a quick guided tour of the house before, accompanied by his security guards, he walked the short distance home to Namgyal.

No sooner had he gone that other visitors began to arrive, all of them eager to explore the tower from the moment they turned into the driveway and saw it. Mrs. Trinci was the first; she took her time climbing the stairs, but she was so awestruck by the view from the top that she, like us before her, was momentarily reduced to an uncharacteristically hushed reverence. Franc and Ewing followed a short while later, and then Sid and Serena insisted on having the kitchen staff and waiters up to enjoy the view while there was still light in the west. Curling up on the armchair in the center of the room, I dozed, losing track of time even in the midst of the frequent visitors and the sounds coming from downstairs—music, laughter, and champagne being uncorked.

It must have been quite late when I felt Zahra’s cheek on my head. “I’m sorry, Rinpoche, I forgot to bring you down.”

She collected me in her arms and walked to the garden window. Looking down, I saw strings of party lights in every color crisscrossed above the lawns, women in saris and jewels, men in dark jackets, waiters circulating trays of canapés.

The aroma of something deliciously fishy came wafting up the stairwell. Now fully awake, I was only too glad that Zahra had come to take me below.

“Something to eat?” she proposed.

My thoughts exactly!

The party was in full swing. She carried me across a sitting room thronged with guests and filled with tantalizing aromas and bouquets of flowers. The kitchen was generously proportioned, and she set me down on a wooden bench in the breakfast nook. Kusali soon arranged a ramekin of grilled fish for my delectation.

Zahra moved away as I ate; I was glad to be left to my own devices. After dinner I hopped down from the bench and ambled to the back door. I found my way around to the front of the house. I skirted the driveway to make my exit; I didn’t need to stay for any more of the party. What I had experienced in the tower room, and what His Holiness had said there, was enough. That light would glow within for a very long time to come.

As I padded the short distance back to Namgyal, I passed my garden and decided to attend to the call of nature before going home. The garden was empty and lit only by the silver of the moon. Finding a bed with loose soil, I completed my toilette. I was heading back to the steps when I heard a creak. I turned to see that the shed door had been left open and was moving in the wind.