my dramatic guardian

18^th September, was the day when i started to feel humanly hands around me. Soft, alluring and warm. It took me a while to realize that I was no more in my mother’s liquid-y womb but in a real, cold world. A world, in which we live and die so soon that we are not able to grip the essence of life nor the true meaning of love. I was kept in an antique card box wrapped in a thick cloth near the gleaming window where the sunlight didn’t let me open my eyes until it was gone away somewhere, somewhere I never ventured.

A godly, womanly hands took care of me as long as I can remember, massaging my back and playing with my pink nose, at least people say it’s pink, I was milked and sometimes clothed when it got too cold to handle and then one day I was freed from that termite smelling box, an entire world was to be discovered. It was a huge house, huge to my tiny feet. I wandered around staring at huge, still standing monsters, ah… what do they call them? Oh yes, furniture. I rubbed my back on them, believing they will like it and sometimes lay under them as to hide from my mother or my sisters. And always failed because somehow they always found me. And when I asked how? They said “your white hair are amusingly everywhere.” And then my older sisters would walk away with all that arrogance and pride, in the most exquisite cat-walking manner, and they’ll be long gone while my marble eyes will never be tired.

 I played with those old Christmas balls rolling here and there, hitting my head on the monsters but it never hurt for longer than 10 seconds and why will it hurt? I was a man already. Sometimes that woman, who was my guardian and my mother’s and my sisters’ too, would collect all of the fallen Christmas balls and the hanging ones and put them in a similar card board box in which I once lived and keep them in the store room which my mother forbid me too enter as there was a chance of getting locked in that room and the only thing which then come out is a skeleton not a cat anymore.

One day my guardian got so angry she even took down the Christmas tree, oh it looked mesmerizing when all of my sisters along with my mother would sit on the couch and stare at the twinkling fairy lights and enjoy that tree-y aroma and the santa claus hanging and the giant golden star at the top of the tree and our music would be the crackling of fire. Oh those good old days.

Soon my guardian sold me for a petty price, I would never forgive her for that. Although I was a man, I did had emotions and love and longed for my father-less family. I still remember clearly that warmth of the hands and then locking me in a huge red basket, only when I was locked I realized it was the last time I was seeing that house, my family, that single royal blue Christmas ball under that bookshelf which the guardian never found. I gazed at my 4 sisters as they shed tears, I stood on the edge of the basket pushing my hand through the hole, trying to touch my mother for the last time when they picked me up and took me away, far away.

It was a long journey, I sat quietly on one side just getting used to the environment, that buzzing of the traffic and the pulling and pushing of a stick with a ball-like head by the only man in that huge moving thing.

And then I was passed to another man who kept me in middle of a huge hall and left. A crowd started to gather around and it was the first time I realized I was not a man yet, I was too scared to move or to speak or to do anything. Those humans were scared too they only peeped in from above, giggled and exclaim how beautiful I was but dare not touched me but then a girl with chocolate-y hair and brown eyes came, picked me up and attached me with her heart. Her heart too was thumping just like mine, and I felt a little comfort. Whenever she brought me closer to any member of the crowd they will run away as if I will eat them, it was weird, the guardian never did that. But soon they all came closer to me and scrutinized again and again but dare not touched me.

After feeding me bundles of cheese and butter and milk and boiled meat, my new guardian girl took me to her room and sat me down in a brown basket covered with a towel like cloth where I lived for my rest of the life.

my memories with that emotional girl are boiling in my brain which one should I describe first? Oh that day when she took me to the garden, on a mid-summer day, with butterflies around and the flowers mingling together. The sky looked huge bluer than ever and the grass greener than before. A red cloak spread on the dew-wet grass while my new guardian read “good wives” by louisa. M Alcott (no, I can’t read but she told about it a million times), while laying upside down, with a basket full of food and goodies lay next to her, which kind of scared me but I always knew she won’t sent me anywhere, I always had that feeling in my heart, always.

Should I tell you about that day when her boyfriend broke up with her? it’s kind of her private things but let me tell you how stupid that boy was to leave her like that on her birthday night. She was of excited about it that she couldn’t hold her excitement at all.

 She ran here and there in the room, trying to find the perfect pair of leggings which could go with her rose-red dress. Her room was a mess with panties and bras and socks and jeans and everything around. a broken blush palette also laid down under the dressing table as she accidently hit it while trying to take off the old black leggings which were too tight for her. Though she wasn’t fat at all, but the tights did took a good -15 minutes to come off. When she came out of the bathroom all dressed up in those black leggings and the red dress and a black blazer hanging at her straight shoulders I was left in awe, I had never seen such a beautiful lady in my entire 5 months life. I rested in my basket which she had kept on the dressing table, I was a bit drowsy while she made a thousandth braid and left the room leaving me imagine her having dinner in the most beautiful restaurant in the world which only had moonlight for lighting.

But then I was woken up by wails of cries, her mascara smudged and her hair all messy. I walked towards her thinking what worst could have happened.

-lulu, he left me.” And a stream of tears flowed down her rosy cheeks. “he said, I was too much.” I jumped on her lap and sat down while she cried for the rest of night, hugging me tightly. She didn’t talked about it, anymore and began the next day as if it was an old dream. Blur and worthless. But the fact that it all happened on her birthday made her hate that day. Its weird how a single life event can make you hate the only day which is yours among the 365 days long year.

She named me lulu, it means pearl, protected, an outstanding example. Indeed which I was, but she specifically named me lulu as I was completely white resembling a pearl. She also referred to me as beybu and many other distorted names. She played with me all the time, round the clock, with my tail and feet, and nose and beard and my eyes, suddenly closing them, I don’t know what kind of loving behavior is that, she folded my ears and squeezed my stomach and what not.

This was all of the fun part, let me tell you how I affected her life. Which always hurt me in my heart.

After sometime, the noises in the house increased. The screaming, quarrels and fights. She spent hours and hours outside her room and always hugged me a little too much those days which made me suspicious. As if she was telling me something. She would sit in the corner of the room and cry a lot. I was scared it would affect her eyesight but still she cried and cried.

And then finally one day, I got to know that her grandpa has been affected by a disease caused by cat hair. I thought “what?”

Her grandpa was an old, rigid, thin man with strong hands and very good eyesight along with completely silver hair, who had exploited his youth the most and worked in the army, received a lot of badges and medals which peacefully hung in his room along with a couple of rifles, which always scared the hell out of me. She took me with her to his room couple of times in a week and *sigh* I think I left my few hair there.

I felt extremely sorry for that, until his death. I realized her grandpa was much more to her than to anyone else. He was the only one who didn’t objected to her idea of having a kitten and loved me the most after her. I remember the day when he died. A deafening scream, gathering of sad people dressed in gloomy clothes with flowers and food. I saw it all by the window. She stood on the gate welcoming people, with her head hanging down. I felt bad, extremely bad. I…was sad. I was the reason for her sadness, she was sadder than she was when her boyfriend broke up with her. At least she was eating by then, but not now. I would saw her mother bring her food in tray but she wouldn’t eat a grain. And the food will get cold lying on the bed while she cried and cried sitting on the floor by the edge of the bed with her head resting on her knees.

Soon she got sick, a doctor came, prescribed some medicines. And left while recommending a psychologist.

Not only this, when she went to her art classes. Her family members wouldn’t feed me. I would wait and wait for her and she would come late in the evening all dull. She would cut pieces of cheese and feed me quietly in the dark kitchen while the wind would rustle and mess her hair and then she would angrily shut the window.

After visiting the psychologist few times. She started to get better but with no more hugging or playing with my ears or kissing my nose. She would say “lulu, don’t go out. If anyone comes here, hide in the closet, okay?” and my eyes will twinkle for reply and then she would sail off, slightly rushing, sometimes for her art classes and sometimes for appointment at the psychologist’s and sometimes for both. And a long period of waiting would start all over again. I would sit by the window slightly opening the curtain and waiting. The moon would come out and the stars too and planes would flew by but she wouldn’t come as long as I would sit there.

Soon, the same quarrels started, all of the screaming and shouts returned in the house.

-it all because of this ugly cat, throw her out.” Her mother would scream at the top of her lungs.

-please, no!” she would cry and scream and her voice would screech.

-you, I shouldn’t have allowed you in the first place” her mother would kick me out in the garden while I would watch shivering and then my guardian would come rushing, shivering too, to rescue me.

Again she started to cry In nights but this time silently not a soul could hear her screams in the pillow but I would. I didn’t knew what love was, but here I could see it, I could feel it.

I was the reason for all the un-demanded trouble she was going through. So I decided, to leave. I will go far away from her where no one have to care about me or my falling hair or my cheese. It was better for everyone. I stood on the wall, on my left was the road on my right was my guardian’s home. My tears, they were finally coming out.

“I love you” I said as humans say, as I have heard my guardian rehearsing it a million times in front of the mirror.

-lulu! Come down at once.” She screamed. She came home early today. “come down!”

I glanced at the open road.

-no! please!” I turned my back at her. I was making her sad only. I would go away, you’ll be happy, thought. I was about to jump down when I heard her falling down. Again crying.

-first father left me, then my stupid boyfriend, then grandpa and now you.” she wasn’t making crying sounds but tears were falling which is same, I guess. “they say, cat are smart. So I am telling you this. It’s not your fault. Death is in everyone’s fate, you can’t stop it. i know you are tired too, I’ll take you with me to the college, I’ll move out soon. We’ll live happily ever after, only if you stay. You are my companion. The one who doesn’t talk but hears well. The one who doesn’t leave my side.”and her head lowered to the ground thinking I couldn’t understand. I just wonder how bad she is describing her feelings but whatever. At that moment I realized how she had affected my heart it was going hard inside, thumping as it did when we first met.

-come down. Please?” upon hearing “please” the wanting in that word, that weird feeling of being attached to someone surrounded me and I saw her lamenting.

If I leave her too, then what’s the different between me and God? I jumped down to her. And rubbed my head at her hand. She patted it as she always did.

God tested her and I was her companion who could calm her heartbeat and lessen the chances of her getting a heart attack and much more you can google it. God sent me to her for a reason, which I know exactly.

It was indeed true melodramatic blood cells roamed in her arteries freely, while she sucked in explaining things. This relationship of human and cats and how we affect each other is weird but I LOVE it. Now I Sit in my basket with silk cloak as my guardian paint me on a huge thing, and I feel none less than Marie Antoinette.