Out of line Feline

One of them is sitting outside my window right now, in that slice of the winter sun, every limb tucked away under it's orange fur. It's staring at me accusingly because I am not opening the window to let it in. My mother's "chaalu cheez hai Adu, ghar main nahin aani chaiye" keeps me in check. I relent quietly because you have to pick and choose your battles when it comes to mothers and this is not a mantle I am keen to incite her ire over. Sasha (a name I have given to the tabby because he has grey eyes, go figure) shall stay outdoors and not be allowed to slink around the cupboards, hide under beds and skulk around the living room of my house. This surprises me because every Fluffy, Moti, Soni, Kannu, Tubby and other adorably named canines are always welcome - my mother will prepare bowls of water and food for them like she's running a restaurant for dogs. But when it comes to cats- my mother gets a certain steeley look in her eyes that makes me wish for nine lives.

We all know that ancient Egyptian culture treated cats with reverence. The love of for them in Japan is evident with the ubiquitous Hello Kitty, that can be seen anywhere - as a tattoo or even armbands on police officers if they report late to duty, a sign of pride and of punishment at the same time. However, thanks to American pop culture cats have been associated with lonely people, found mewling in Law And Order episodes where they alert neighbours to dead bodies and sitting in the crook of the arms of James Bond villains purring contentedly at the touch of evil. The myth of a black cat tossing your path leading to bad luck is a popular one. Apparently, a cat just wanting to get places is a problem for us.

In India, however, the narrative behind cats is much like them - mysterious. If they don't dart in and out of the frame in our horror films to provide convenient misleading scares; they are seen cris crossing the grid of the city fish markets. These cats will be referred to as "maushi" and will demand scraps from the vendors. The only time I remember a cat from my childhood is when I read Stardust magazine - Who was this glamorous cat was that knew so many scandalous and dubious things about Bollywood film stars? Did it just hang around in dark corners at their parties, eavesdropping on conversations and then come back and tell us? How catty indeed. The first time my mother mentioned that the neighbour's daughter had cat eyes I marvelled at the science of organ donation.

With the perceived lack of care-taking owning a cat require s- suddenly cats have entered our homes as pets, I see them everywhere. But to me this seems unconventional. It might have something to do with the fact that cats are not openly and blatantly affectionate. Like our Bollywood films and our family's love - they don't come barging to the door demanding affection the moment you enter the house or inquire if you've had enough to eat that day. Instead they incite quiet petting sessions when they insert themselves between your feet while you drink your morning chai or fight with the remote control while you're trying to change the channel on the TV. They don't beg at the table for scraps, but they watch you from the top of the cupboard till you feel their eyes boring into the back of your head and you remember to serve them food.

I look around guiltily even though I am alone and slide open the window. Sasha literally sashays off the window sill and onto my desk. "Are you talking about me?" her eyes nonchalantly enquire. She ceremoniously on my settles on warm laptop keyboard. How did it know, I wonder "Chalu cheez hai" after all.