As much as I love to rant about my love for the underground indie stuff, something has happened in my life that needs to be spoken about. The thing is that this blog, like the previous one, is not about alternative music, art or films. This blog is about the thing I loved the most which is now underground, in the literal sense.
My cat, Kinoosh – who was living with my ex-boyfriend after we ended things - always suffered from an identity crisis. And maybe that’s my fault because we named her Kino after the (orange) fruit even though she was a gorgeous black and grey tabby! Even when we got her, sometime last year, she refused to behave like a cat. She would smell people, licked their toe, chased paper balls, never chased birds and hated mackerel. Unlike cats who like exploring new vantage points to claw their owners, this one was happy to sit in my lap and get the royal treatment. Even when we tried to make a cat out of her by putting on top of cupboards so she could make use her dusty claws a bit, she just sat and meowed till we got her back down. She would never leave home. And on the one and the only occasion when she did, she came back whimpering and never dared to go past the main door. There wasn’t an ounce of cat in that cat.
But here’s the thing – she loved birds. She would sit at window-sills for hours just watching them fly. Her eyes scanned their movements, she was smitten. Every day after work, I would find her watching birds, silently. And on most days, she wouldn’t even attack them. She let them dance around her without letting her feline instincts take over. She loved birds. The only thing she hated were lizards. Oh, she would latch on to them like a falcon on its prey and suck it dry. And we didn’t mind.
She loved everyone. All cats haters, cynics, sceptics, dog lovers, everyone! And she had the power to convert them, like a cat prophet. Anyone who spent more than an hour with Kinoosh was a convert, in the true sense. Then they would want to pet her, play with her, cuddle her and take her with them. And Kinoosh would happily oblige. She loved being loved. And she loved giving love.
Fifteen days back, Kinoosh died. She leapt off my ex’s 18th floor balcony and crashed on the parking 16 floors below. I think she wanted to fly. Her identity crisis gave her in. She loved birds and she probably thought she was one too. When I tell people that my cat fell to death, no one believes me because cats are supposed to be agile and have nine lives. But this one didn’t. And that’s why she is Kinoosh. She lived like a princess and died like a rockstar. But, sadly she only had one life!
Today, she is buried in Versova mangroves and I visit her every now and then. I know she is spreading her love somewhere else, making people laugh in some other world, chasing lizards in some other time. Maybe she is a bird now.
From HT Brunch, September 2
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