Maxima and Minima

Close to my heart

Small things can make me indecently happy or sad. An old friend once compared my mood swings to the maxima-minima graph of a mathematical function. “You are either on the top or at the bottom,” he said like a concerned friend. That was long ago, some time in the 80s. Four decades later, I still remain the same. Painfully aware of the maxima and minima of my mood swings. Helplessly aware. Because they are not under my control. Some things are in your blood. You have to live with them.

A friend of Maggie had arranged the adoption of one of my kittens two days back. Today she told Maggie that the kitten was only crying all the time without eating or drinking anything. That was enough for my mood to hit the bottom. “Tell her to return the kitten immediately,” I told Maggie. “I’ll pick it up from their place.” I couldn’t bear the thought of that little creature wandering around looking for its mother and siblings crying all the while.  Maggie knows when I’m serious. A few phone conversations later, we learnt that the kitten took a day to adapt to its new situation. But after that, it was doing fine. Maggie’s friend was not told about the latter part. Good news doesn’t travel as fast as the bad.

A few weeks back another kitten was being adopted. I was asked to deliver it at a particular place near my school. Having handed it over, Maggie and I sat in our car and watched the person ride her scooter with the kitten. A minute later, the scooter stopped. The kitten managed to escape from its box somehow and it started running on the road. I drove instantly and instinctively to the spot, stopped my car, came out and went after the tiny creature calling it. It stopped running and turned to me. I picked it up and held it close to my heart. It remained there snuggling in my arms. Close to my heart. A day later, I was told that the kitten had become the darling of its entire new family. Close to their heart. My mood wave hit another maximum.

I was never fond of animals until a kitten walked into my life from nowhere. It was an abandoned kitten. People abandoning kittens on roadsides is quite common around here. What moved me was the kitten’s helplessness. Is it pity or love that I feel? I try to rationalise it as pity towards the helplessness of a tiny, innocent creature. But my heart seems to tell me something else. I am yet to comprehend the waywardness of my heart. Maybe, that’s why the graph hits so many maxima and minima.

PS. I must express my infinite gratitude to Maggie's friend who has helped us with the adoption of many of our kittens. Thank you, D.