Monday, October 14, 2013

The Cat’s Fore-life


                                              

The cat caught glimpses of her fore-life flashing past her dizzy head as she lay, half-conscious, on the roadside after being hit by a motor bike. Fortunately, the bike wasn’t running too fast. Her eyes zoomed in and out of focus trying to sink in the gravity of her mishap. Faces of a few people and a dog blurred uncomfortably upon her vision. Someone picked her up and carried her towards the smell of fried maththi, her favourite fish. Several other flavours bombarded her nostrils and she realized that she was being carried towards the place where two-legged creatures come to eat. She used to frequent the place for left-overs. Soon a bowl of cold milk was brought and kept beside her. She drank the milk and looked up at the only face, less blurred, now remaining beside her. Her brain sneezed a bit and she caught a few more, this time more vivid, glimpses of her past life. She brushed the legs of her benefactor in gratitude and limped slowly towards the shade of a badaam tree. Sleep overcame her and the scenes of her past life became clearer in the cat’s dreams.
 
The cat was now walking on two legs, carrying a bucket full of washed clothes. I am not sure whether the cat was aware of gender differences among the humans as it was evident from the dream that the cat was a ‘he’ in her fore-life. Coming back to the dream, as he approached the clothesline, a big black and white cat purred from a nearby jasmine bush. He looked at the cat for a moment before laying the clothes on the line and clipping them so that they won’t get blown away by the wind. The sky was dark and rain was apparent according to the weather forecast. After finishing his chore, he went inside his room; apparently, it was a temporary lodging. A few books lay open on an old wooden table whose legs were carved in to look fancy. The plastic wired wooden chair had a small hole where the butt sank. An old single-cot bed and a cloth-stand completed the furniture collection of his room. Everything was kept in an orderly fashion. Even the cat couldn’t help herself from noticing it. “Waa waa waa waa…”, the cat opened her eyes to a passing ambulance’s siren. She looked around and found herself under the badaam tree.
 
Evening closed in on her pretty quickly, and she readied herself for dinner-hunting. A nearby girls’ hostel was her favourite hunting spot. There was always food and some of the girls caressed her while others shooed her away. She got to eat the remains of some fish off their bones. On her way back to her night spot she felt better and a little sleepy. While crossing an unpaved mud lane the yellow light from the headlights of a passing car pierced her sight. She shook herself and strutted towards her destination. A semi-tree sized white cheththi, in full bloom, loomed over the cat as she settled herself beneath it. There were white little flowers on the ground, and those that remained on the tree in bunches spread their mild fragrance all around. The cat remembered the time when she was in labour with her first group of kittens. It was on a hot summer night, under a rose chempakam. She was screeching in pain as each of the three kittens came out into the world. Above her, the dark rose-coloured chempaka blossoms wove a beautiful see-through roof, through which the stars and the sickle-shaped moon were visible. They became a blurry sight as the cat’s eyes drooped and she fell asleep under the cheththi.
 
A flash of yellow light, more yellow lights. He was passing through a busy street full of people buying things, selling things, waiting for buses or taxis or customers. After placing his order he was standing idly in front of the thattukada. A middle-aged woman alluringly smiled at him from a nearby tea stall. He looked at the woman for a few seconds and felt his heart throbbing faster than the usual pace. Just then, his order of a plate of porotta and chicken curry was handed over to him by the thattukada proprietor. He moved away from the people waiting for their orders, and found a place to sit on a bench. His eyes searched the nearby tea stall. The woman was talking to a man, and soon she left with him in his car. The throbbing heart returned to its normal pace and he returned to his plate of porotta. A stray dog stood waiting beside the stall until someone threw a bone towards it. People disappeared after buying things, selling things, catching buses or taxis or customers.
 
He was in his room now, reading a book. A thud on the door and he went to open it. A man was lying on the floor, muttering things. He helped the man get up and carried him along the corridor to another room. He knocked and a sleepy face opened the door. After leaving the drunken man with his friend he returned to his room, felt tired, and went to sleep.
 
Cold water drops awakened the cat from her sleep. She looked around and saw a little girl with a bowl of water in her hand. The girl dropped the bowl and got on the swing hanging from the cheththi. The swing swayed to and fro as the girl accelerated its speed using her little feet. A few more cheththi blossoms fell on the ground. The cat stared at the swinging girl for some time and felt dizzy as her head was following the to and fro motion of the swing. “Moley”, a voice called from inside the house and the girl’s swinging stopped and she ran towards her house. The cat’s eyes followed the running girl until she disappeared inside her house. A mouth-watering aroma of chicken stew emanated from the house and the cat ran towards it in great anticipation.
 
An hour passed since the aroma disturbed the cat’s olfactory senses. She sat patiently on the kitchen step waiting for someone to notice her. After some time, the little girl appeared with a small piece of chicken and threw it at the cat. The cat pounced upon the small chicken piece and finished it off in a matter of seconds. She looked up to see if the girl was willing to part with more chicken but she was already gone.
 
Children were going to school when the cat reached the road leading to the junction. Buses ran fast through the highway, carrying the rush hour passengers going to schools, colleges, and offices. The fish market was buzzing with people buying fresh fish when the cat reached the badaam tree. The old lady who daily fed the cat with a free fish was not to be seen anywhere. The cat searched the market for the friendly face. A young man selling fish shooed her away as she approached his station. The cat moved away from him and meowed in latent anticipation. She waited for some time for the old face to appear among the fish sellers. Time passed and the market started becoming less crowded again. People were returning home after picking their favourite fishes. After waiting in vain for hours, the cat returned to her usual hangout under the badaam tree.
 
It was noon when the cat finally got something to eat. She was visiting the backyard of a hotel when one of the kitchen hands threw away some left-overs. She found a few fish bones and chicken scraps. After licking the bones clean, the cat retreated to her sanctuary under the badaam tree. Her eyes were gleaming as she curled up for a catnap. Flashes of her past life returned the moment she dozed off under the afternoon sun. This time a noose was hanging from the ceiling of a strange room. It was dark and he trembled as he raised himself on a chair before reaching for the noose. He put his trembling head inside the noose and closed his eyes. His legs panicked and feigned numbness. But the chair betrayed him by slipping off from under his shaky legs. Suffocation. He couldn’t breathe. The cat grabbed her neck with her front paws and tried to breathe. She writhed and screeched breathless on the gravel. The badaam tree spread its shade over the breathless cat.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

ഗവേഷണ വിദ്യാര്‍ഥി

ഇന്ടക്ഷന്‍ കുക്കറില്‍ കാപ്പിക്ക് വെള്ളം വെചൂ
ഒരു ഗവേഷണ വിദ്യാര്‍ഥി.
വെള്ളം തിളച്ചപ്പോള്‍ കാപ്പിപ്പൊടി യില്ല;
കടയില്‍ ചെന്നപ്പോള്‍ കട തുറന്നിട്ടുമില്ല.
അടഞ്ഞ കടക്കു മുന്നില്‍ നിന്നുകൊണ്ട്
കുടിക്കാനിരുന്ന കാപ്പിയെ ധ്യാനിച്ച്‌,
ഒരിറ്റു ഉമിനീരിറക്കി വിദ്യാര്‍ഥി.

Long Lost Child

A wind chime whistling its song
for a long lost child.
The child,
lost in a desert of people.
Wherever you look you see only faces;
their eyes telling tales
of their brief encounters
with the long lost child.
So many tales,
baffling you,
challenging you
to solve the puzzle of the long lost child.
By the time you solve it,
the wind chime would have stopped its song;
And the child, lost forever.