When my
neighbour complained that my cat, Kittu, steals into their kitchen occasionally,
I decided to leave a window of my house open so that Kittu could sleep inside
the room even if Maggie and I were not at home. I left some branded cat food too
inside the room so that hunger wouldn’t drive Kittu to neighbourhood kitchens.
When I returned home from school, however, Kittu was sleeping as usual on one
of the chairs outside the house. Ants were feasting on the branded cat food
inside. I decided to confront Kittu after dinner as we both sat outside the
house with a galaxy of stars winking at us.
“Did you go
gallivanting today too?” I asked.
“What else do
you expect me to do the whole day?” He asked with unconcealed scorn. “Sleep on
your carpet and eat the tasteless stuff you bring from the hypermarket?”
“So you went
and stole your favourite sardines from the Mathais today too?”
“Stole? What do you mean by that?”
“Taking
anything that is not yours is stealing, Kittu,” I said sounding like a moral
science teacher.
“What is yours and mine?” Kittu looked genuinely perplexed. I didn’t answer him. After
a brief silence, he asked, “Is the river which supplies your garden water
yours? Is the air you breathe yours? What about the sky and all those stars
there?”
Kittu stood up
on his chair, stretched himself showing me his claws, scratched his ear, and
then stepped on to my lap where he made himself comfortable within seconds. I
patted his head which he always loved.
“Humans, so
possessive!” Kittue purred rubbing his cheek against my belly as if he owned
me.
“I’m your fan,
Kittu,” I said pampering his ego. He always pretends that he doesn’t like my
pampering.
“I don’t want
you to be my fan,” he protested. “I want you to be mine.”
“What’s yours and mine?” I threw his words back to him mimicking him as well as I
could.
“Relationship,”
pat came the reply. “Relationship without borders. Without fences and windows.”
“I never knew
you were so romantic,” I said with genuine surprise.
“Would I be
lying in your lap like this if you were not jejunely romantic?” He chuckled.
The question
annoyed me as much as the chuckle. I pinched his ear gently. He loved that. He
always loves it when I pinch his ears.
“Why can’t the
world be a little more romantic, Kittu?” I asked.
“You’ve stolen
all the romance,” said Kittu, “that’s why. You’ve infected me with it too.”
xZx
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