Skip to main content

A Requiem for my cat

I buried him yesterday morning. His body was found lying dead and cold on the roadside. A speeding vehicle had killed him in the night. 

He walked into our life as a little kitten five months ago. Someone had abandoned him on the roadside when the autumn sky was turning dark. He walked towards the only light he saw, the one outside our house. Maggie and I were baffled a bit. He was too small, would he survive? That was our worry. We had no choice anyway but adopt him. Thus he became our Kunju, the Little One. 

He stole our hearts with his playfulness. He would climb into our laps and make himself comfortable there for as long as it pleased him. When Maggie worked in the kitchen he would jump up behind her and untie her apron knot. He thought we were his playmates. We allowed him to use us as such. We loved the game as much as he did. 

We miss him immensely. Memories don't die. Even a cat refuses to die from memories. "Kunju has made you a different man," my friend said once. He was right. I learnt to be like a little boy when I spent time with Kunju. That was Kunju's gift to me: purification of my heart. 



Comments

  1. So sad to know this. We also used to have cats. Not now. And when they go, it leaves a big void.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I had another cat which disappeared a few months back. I consoled myself that it must be living somewhere. Now, this departure came as a trauma.

      Delete
  2. Replies
    1. Thanks, Jai. Your personal message came as a soothing balm.

      Delete
  3. Condolences.. hope you will feel better soon

    ReplyDelete
  4. Sorry to hear the sad news.. Pets do steal our hearts and often show us an entirely different life.. My condolences.. Wish you speedy recovery!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Deeply saddened to know about Kitty's demise. My condolences to you and ma'am.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I never had a pet.... But I can imagine it must be devastating to lose someone or something you have grown an emotional attachment for...!!May the good memories give the strength... For that's what holds the promise to be everlasting!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is devastating, memories linger on like numbing pangs.

      Delete
  7. So sad to learn of Kunju's death. I can understand your loss having cats as pets myself.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm yet to overcome the grief. He refuses to leave my memory.

      Delete
  8. Ohh! I just came across this post. I love cats and I'm so sorry to hear this:(

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Whispers of the Self

Book Review Title: The Journey of the Soul Author: Dhanya Ramachandran Publisher: Sahitya Publications, Kozhikode, 2025 Pages: 64 “I n the whispers of the wind, I hear a gentle voice.” Dhanya Ramachandran’s poems are generally gentle voices like the whispers of the wind. The above line is from the poem ‘Seek’. There is some quest in most of the poems. As the title of the anthology suggests, most of the poems are inward journeys of the poet, searching for something or offering consolations to the self. Darkness and shadows come and go, especially in the initial poems, like a motif. “In the darkness, shadows dance and play.” That’s how ‘Echoes of Agony’ begins. There are haunting memories, regrets, and sorrow in that poem. And a longing for solace. “Tears dry, but scars remain.” Shadows are genial too occasionally. “Shadows sway to the wind’s soft sigh / As we stroll hand in hand beneath the sky…” (‘Moonlit Serenade’) The serenity of love is rare, however, in the collecti...

Mandodari: An Unsung Heroine

Mandodari and Ravana by Gemini AI To remain virtuous in a palace darkened by the ego of the king is a hard thing to do, especially if one is the queen there. Mandodari remained not only virtuous till the end of her life in that palace, but also wise and graceful. That’s what makes her a heroine, though an unsung one. Her battlefield was an inner one: a moral war that she had to wage constantly while being a wife of an individual who was driven by ego and lust. Probably her only fault was that she was the queen-wife of Ravana. Inside the golden towers of Ravana’s palace, pride reigned and adharma festered. Mandodari must have had tremendous inner goodness to be able to withstand the temptations offered by the opulence, arrogance, and desires that overflowed from the palace. She refused to be corrupted in spite of being the wife of an egotistic demon-king. Mandodari was born of Mayasura and Hema, an asura and an apsara, a demon and a nymph. She inherited the beauty and grace of her...

Good Friday and Jai Sri Ram

By Gemini Today is Good Friday in the Christian calendar. Truth was nailed to the cross some 2000 years ago on this day by a governor of the Roman Empire who did want to know what truth was before he succumbed to the pressure of the Jewish priests and their right-wing mob to crucify Jesus. “What is truth?” Pilate asked. The trial of Jesus was going on with a ferocious mob of right-wing Jews shouting murderous slogans outside the praetorium. Have you ever wondered why the slogans turn murderous whenever the right-wing gives them voice? I have, many times. And my answer is: religion belongs to the emotional half of the human brain, and in the case of too many people that half is unevolved. Jesus doesn’t answer Pilate’s question. Rather, Pilate doesn’t wait for an answer. He knows the answer probably. His problem is not an epistemological definition of truth. His problem is whose truth is to be given more weightage here now. There is Jesus’ truth on the one hand, and the murderous r...

Omens in the Ramayana

Illustration by Gemini AI Dasharatha is preparing for the coronation of Rama as the King of Ayodhya. It is the most joyous night of his life. His subjects celebrating outside. Garlands adorn every doorway. Drums roll through the city like thunder from the heavens. But there is something ominous that disturbs the King who is planning to retire. He steps out into the courtyard. The sky is clear, but a thunder growls in the distance. There is a howling wind that tosses the lamps and banners, and snuffs out the light. His horses whinny unnaturally as if they sensed something that their master failed to perceive. Even the palace elephants raise their trunks and trumpet into the darkness. Some birds screech in the trees. “My spirit trembles,” Dasharatha mutters to himself, “though there is no enemy at the gates.” The enemy was within. And the omens were not for nothing. Rama wouldn’t be the king. Kaikeyi had other plans. The Ramayana describes signs and portends that appeared bef...

Nala, Nila, and Ram Setu

Nala and Nila are architects of faith. They built a bridge between the mortal and the divine, a bridge that mortal creatures built for an immortal god, a bridge between human effort and divine purpose. Ram Setu, aka Adam’s Bridge today, connects India with Sri Lanka, from Rameswaram to Mannar Island. It is a 48-km-long chain of limestone shoals, sandbanks, and islets that run across the Palk Strait. The ocean is quite shallow in the region: 1 to 10 metres deep. Science tells us that the ‘bridge’ is a natural formation, resulting from a combination of coral reefs, sand and sediment deposition, tidal and wave actions, and rising sea levels over thousands of years. Some surveys also suggest that the top layer contains stones resting on a base of sand, which is unusual and could indicate human intervention. Moreover, the bridge was reportedly walkable until the 15 th century.  In the Ramayana, the bridge was built by the Vanaras under the guidance of Nala and Nila, sons of Vishw...