That Escalated Quickly.

Every street in Pakistan unwillingly fosters two to three female cats, an alpha male and their eventual litany of kittens. Which roughly translates to most homes footing the bill for a few kitties. Even if you are a household with your own pet cat, you still have cats ‘on the side’.

One such unassuming house stood in a quiet suburb of Lahore, Pakistan. The streets paraded decades old banyan and neem trees on both sides. Their roots ripping through sidewalks and their shade enticing, sweat drenched passersby. The house was a run-down, colonial era residence. Inside lived a shy teen, absolutely in love with these fur-camouflaged tiny devils. As far as Sana could remember, she had wanted a pet cat. Her father, on the other hand, seemed to see right through the moody monsters. Sana would have succumbed to the compromise of adopting a street cat or two. But anytime a feline visited the creaky kitchen side door two days in a row, it disappeared. Major Ali would instruct their military sanctioned butler to escort the cat in a bag, to an undisclosed location.

Years passed with such sporadic forced disappearances till the major retired as a colonel. Emboldened by a 5-year hiatus, Sana tried her luck again. This time however, she went big! she couldn't reward her patience with a part time feline companion. No! Go big and go home with Mr. Big. Sana knew as soon as she had walked into the pet store that she wasn't exiting empty handed. Nonetheless she hadn't prepared for the absolute cutie that Mr. Big was. A four-month-old, grey striped Maine Coon with a tail for days. His huge eyes peaked into Sana's soul and made it grow its own fur. Forty-five minutes later, Sana was back home with a litter box, a bag of Kibble and a kitten she was desperately trying to shush.

Surprisingly, she was able to keep Mr. Big a secret for an entire week. This wasn't that surprising for Mrs. Ali, who frequently complained of her husband’s selective blindness, especially triggered by socks.

Retired Col. Ali's first encounter happened while he was relaxing with a cup of steaming hot tea in his favourite lounger. He felt something wet touch his big toe and he wiggled it as a reflex. His dulled military instincts kicked in a second too late and he jumped at the realization that nothing wet should be touching his big toe.

“What the hell?!” Mr. Ali’s voice came out shrill.

The sudden movement and noise scared Mr. Big under the lounger and he meowed objectionably. Mr. Ali’s eyes bulged out at the proximity of the sound. He crouched on all fours, willing his irises to expand at full speed, so he could apprehend the culprit before it escaped to another room.

“Syed!” Mr. Ali shouted out to his equally retired butler. “Bring a blanket.”

Sana's dad jumped from one end of the lounging chair from the other, head fixed sideways to the floor. The one eye that could see under the chair, tried to assess the position of the kitten with the help of the phone flashlight.

“SYED! Hurry!”

A flustered Syed ran into the room carrying a crocheted blanket. Mr. Ali stretched out his hand to grab it with his face still glued to the floor. Instead, his hand went right through the gaping yellow and green pattern.

“What?” Mr. Ali finally unscrewed his head from the marble floor. “What is this?”

“Sir, you asked for a blanket, and I grabbed the first one I could find.” Syed winced through an explanation.

“Syed, stop being a nincompoop and get an actual blanket. Quick! The kitten will escape.”

As if on cue, tiny Mr. Big used this distraction to sprint from the lounger chair to the expansive shelter of the 4-seater sectional.

“Ohno!” Mr. Ali groaned.

Syed ran to the linen closet to find a more appropriate blanket, while another set of footsteps could be heard hurtling down the stairs.

“Baba?! What're you doing home?” Sana burst into the room with panic flashing on her face.

“I'm trying to catch this stupid cat and throw it out before it pees everywhere.”

“I meant you were supposed to be at the bridge game with your friends.”

“Yea I skipped that, have a bit of indigestion.” Mr. Ali replied slightly annoyed at the line of questioning. “Can you see what's taking Syed this long?”

“He's not a stray.” Sana blurted out. “I brought him home for a few days. My friend is travelling, and she asked me to cat sit.” She continued in a single breath, avoiding eye contact with her dad.

Syed was also back with the blanket. Col. Ali (Retd.) took hold of the blanket, unsure about what to do with this information. By force of habit, he was still slouching slowly towards the kitten. Sana jumped into action before things got further out of hand.

“Move baba! You're scaring him and give me that blanket.” She quickly snatched away the blanket and threw it across the room. “Here kitty, come out.”

Sana managed to pull out Mr. Big with minimal resistance and instantly cuddled him next to her face.

“He's shivering Baba! Look how much you scared him. You could be a Disney villain.” And with that indictment, Sana escaped back into her room before any appeals could be made.

Now that the cat was literally out of the bag, Mr. Big strutted around the house with the clumsy pomposity, only a cat can manage. Anytime it tried to cuddle up to the retired Colonel or sniff around his food, there would be immediate objections.

“Only a few days Baba!” Sana would roll her eyes dramatically to indicate how overly dramatic her dad was being.

Those few days turned to weeks and the objections turned to silent approval. Mr. Big might have been brought in by Sana, but it had clearly chosen her dad as the primary human. Plus, to Mr. Ali's great delight, his wife was the spare human and thus, comically rejected by the kitten.

“Where’s Raja?” Mr. Ali asked one day.

“Who's Raja?”

“The cat! I’m not calling him Mr. Big Shig. It’s a ridiculous name.”

Sana knew she didn't need to pretend Mr. Big's stay had an expiration date anymore.

Raja spent most of his day hovering around Mr. Ali. This annoyed Sana but she also knew that in a year's time, she would move out for college. Maybe this would be better for Raja.

Winters brought the sight of Raja curled up on Mr. Ali's lap, relishing the warmth of his body. The retired Colonel would often complain of immobility at the hands of Raja's naps but would never disturb them. While Sana would try to keep Raja on a strict diet, the kitten knew that one long meow was enough to get treats out of her dad.

“Poor thing must be so hungry. you can't keep a lion on a diet!” Mr. Ali would remark proudly at the growing kitten.

When Sana finally moved to the college dorm, her days and nights were filled with video calls of her parents with Raja frolicking nearby. They would point the phone towards Raja, often at an angle where he was hardly visible, or in true Baby Boomer fashion, hold the phone right up to Raja’s face, prompting him to slap it away. This would induce a hearty chuckle from Mr. Ali.

With the only child out of the way, Raja went about claiming his throne. He shed on the couch, slept on the dining table and licked himself everywhere. He asked for food constantly, sniffed and shared anything his humans were consuming and drank water from everywhere but his bowl. Raja nuzzled and purred during the day and ran and played all night. He was also an excellent companion to Mr. Ali’s early morning walks. When he wanted pets, he would gently press his marshmallow-soft paw onto his favourite human's arm and expands his irises to reflect the stars from distant galaxies. Or so Mr. Ali would have described it.

The first time Sana came back from college, during Autumn break, she was taken aback by how much the life of her parents orbited around Raja and vice versa. At night, she kidnapped Raja into her room like an amateur, wanting to snuggle with him like old times. Raja wailed in front of the closed door like a toddler who just dropped an ice cream cone. Defeated, she let him out and he sped towards the master bedroom to take his place between the aging couple. Raja fit perfectly into the Sana shaped vacuum that could have haunted that house. He was meant to be a decorative garnish in Sana's life, a selfish indulgence. Luckily, she had instead ignited an unlikely bond between a retired colonel, hammered with discipline and a furry prince borne out of chaos.