Gospel According to Dora
Dora Dora, my two-month-old kitten, loves freedom more than my pampering. Now she spends most of her time on the terrace by herself or with her mother. Hunger brings her down to me. She draws my attention by rubbing herself against my calves and then goes and sits in front of the cupboard where cat food is kept. Instead, if she goes and sits in the kitchen, it means she needs fish. She is my master, not the other way around. “Don’t be such a dimagi naxal ,” I tell her. She ignores me with obvious contempt. I understand what she’s trying to tell me with that look. I am a free individual. Authority exists to safeguard the liberty of every citizen rather than to restrict it. When I try to convince her about our country’s glorious ancient civilisation and its present Vishwaguru status, she hops onto my lap with a big yawn. There is no polite hesitation, not even a glance hinting at permission-seeking, and no question of checking to see if I am in the mood to entertain her. She decide...
