A CATastrophic Meowsing on Life

I sat in the moonlight today for about five minutes. As cliched as it is, sometimes I like to just sit outside and think nothing. The absolute worst thing that can happen in a time like this is that some human decides to join me. Or calls me.

But that’s not the point. The point was today. It was rather therapeutic, as always, but five minutes is a short time. The reason I went outside was to look for a red sock. But then I saw the clear night and decided to stay a little longer.

There was nothing fresh about the outside. It is hot. The air smelled stale and horrible, perhaps because the kitchen door was a few feet away and right outside it lay a bag full of very garlicky garlic. And it was too early in the night to be peaceful. The azaans for the night prayer, isha, had ended and the men had come back from the Masjid. You could hear people talking and shouting– tv or otherwise– how delightful it was to live in these flats. And of course, that one kid who was always crying. Always.

But even all this is not the point of this writing. There came by a cat. Sniffed the old bowl, found nothing. Looked at me but probably realised my non-cat-friendly nature. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if it wasn’t getting too close. You see, there was this other one called Rani that my sister had befriended, and she was faaaar too clingy. Always trying to rub against my back as I sat on the floor. And I would always push it away.

But this cat, this was the Egyptian. We called it that once, and the name kinda stuck. This cat was different because it never even cared what we did. I could stroke its back and it wouldn’t matter to her. I could ignore her and it wouldn’t matter. It could be starving, dying but it wouldn’t matter. Eventually I stopped looking. Then I realised I couldn’t hear it anymore. I turned around and what do I see? It was sitting beside me in complete silence, careful not to touch me but still as close as possible. When it saw me looking, she started licking herself. And it felt nice.

It was nice to have her by. It felt like this unspoken bond formed by the sheer force of my overactive imagination. A quiet sitting together. Two souls, conflicted in themselves, finally resonating with another mortal and this universe. I wish all cats could be like her. And all humans too.

She comes by every now and then. Sometimes I don’t see her for months. But I rather like it — the presence of either one of us has no effect on the other. We can see each other and not be emotionally attached. It’s quite liberating to have a like minded cat stroll by every once in a while.

Oh, you thought this was an intellectual piece? I beg your forgiveness. I really must stop rambling. I say, where did my meds go again?