Her mother was leaving, and the poor thing did not like it a bit. My heart did not go out to her, but to her mother. <br/><br/>The first thing I noticed about the mother was that her coat was wonderfully rich, and she was huge! Her movements were languorous and graceful. Her steps were measured and calculated, as if the entire floor was not clean enough for her to step on. I loved her the moment I set eyes on her. Unfortunately, that fleeting glimpse was the last I had of the beauty.<br/><br/>I was five when I saw her baby first. And it was, perhaps, a few days old if I was a right judge at that age. I found her under the kitchen rack in my granny’s home.<br/><br/>After a few hours, the mother-daughter disappeared from the kitchen. The very next day the little thing was mewing in my room pathetically. The kitten was too small to have distinct features to impress me, but – wow! Was she feisty!<br/><br/>Her energy caught my attention. When I had successfully managed to coax her to come on my palm and started soothing her, I noticed that the little thing was intelligent, too.<br/><br/>Five year olds don’t boast of too high an IQ, but when compared to kittens a few days old, five-year-old humans are geniuses! And I was impressed, that multi-coloured kitten was so inquisitive and lively. <br/> <br/>We adapted well to each other after that. She was my first (and till now, the last) pet, but in our relationship the ownership was not very clearly defined. Gradually, she became an undisputed member of my home as well as that of my granny’s house that was next door to ours. While I was her favourite in my house, my youngest uncle was her darling in my granny’s.<br/> <br/>She spent thirteen years with us, and welcomed two newly-wed aunts and six new-born babes into the house! Besides marking these once-in-a-lifetime occasions with her ever-vigilant presence, she also became an extended part of our existence. <br/><br/>We have had numerous incidents of her reliability as a responsible family member. One day she discovered that the coziest place to lie is beside a four-month old cousin of mine. I did not mind the proximity, having grown up with her, but when the baby woke up and found this furry, colourful, and invitingly soft presence beside him, he lunged at her! My aunt was horrified thinking that the cat was going to scratch her little boy really badly. And before she could hurry to the baby’s side, his hands were full of her fur. But our pet, by then having already mothered a few batches of kittens, knew what infant playfulness was. She lay placid and motherly to the baby – letting it play with her softness. My aunt, along with all the members of our family, learnt to trust her with babies – no matter how young.<br/><br/>We saw innumerable batches of kittens grow up; learn to walk and to play in our yard. We lost count of the number of kittens she had, but till date, we recognize them when we find them sitting on the neighbour’s wall, or when we catch sight of them while visiting a friend. Her progeny is everywhere in the neighborhood, and beyond.<br/><br/>Once I came across this IQ test for pets in an issue of Reader’s Digest. When I tested my cat, she scored more than what was required to be a ‘feline genius’. My parents said my answers must have been biased, but when my brother took the test of our cat, she still scored more than a genius. We had some cerebral pet in our house!<br/><br/>When I enrolled at a University and was ready to start my hostel life, I worried about her the most. In my hostel room I would feel her presence – but she was nowhere! I should not have worried – she was more mature than me and was already an adult by a cat’s standards.<br/><br/>The anecdotes centered on her are too many, and too fond to be ever forgotten. <br/><br/>I came home during a summer vacation and at that time, she was thirteen and very old. She was very thin, and ill. She would hardly eat anything. By the end of the day, when she started limping on her hind legs, my mother told me that her end is near. We spread word at my granny’s house.<br/><br/>Owing to dual fractures in her left leg and a rod in place of her shinbone, my granny never steps over the threshold. But on hearing about our cat, granny took up her walking stick and hobbled to our house, supported by two of my cousins. When the entire family came together in the house, our cat closed her eyes. My uncles got up and dug up her grave in our lawn. I was a big girl, so I did not show my tears. I felt this was the case with most of our family members. They did not show how tough it was.<br/><br/>That was eight years ago. <br/><br/>A few days ago when my mother was talking with my aunt over phone, I heard her chatter away about her. Much like one would enquire about an absent family member. This year during ‘iftar’ we remembered how she used to love it when the whole of our family was gathered at the dining table (more because of the abundance of her favourite food) and when we started talking of her, the ‘iftar’ stretched long into the evening. And I dreamt of her the very night.<br/><br/>Her sweet presence is very much with us even today. I know I am imagining, but I can see her shut her bright green eyes, settle deep into my lap with claws in place to prevent me from moving and hear her low-long ‘meow’ of contentment.<br/><br/>
