Photography and other experiences.

Firefly at home

Time and silence have the power to dig deep in the self. Thereafter,whether we can see clearly or not, depends on our ability to handle it.

I am, after a long time facing both at my parents house in Dehradun. Slowly parts of my self are oozing out from the layers of distractions which have deposited  over so many years. I don’t have a doppleganger,at least not yet, but I found that I am not as aggressive as I usually am in Delhi. I also realized that my eye for detail needs a lot of work and very importantly, if I let my silly childish self surface, I can make friends even with a most un-friendly cat.

The cat in question is Jugnu. An epitome of snobbery. He is my father’s pet. Since my parents are visiting my sister in America, I am here in Dehradun, baby sitting this conceited bundle of fur and flying hair.

Don’t think those fangs are blunt, they are as sharp as scimitars. This is Jugnu’s advertising department. He turned out to be a little different after our friendship.

For about fifteen days, the house had guests. My friends from Mumbai were visiting me. So Jugnu and I were the projected images of our selves.But sooner that they left, we had to deal with each other. On my part I had to clean his poop, keep his special feed in the bowl and have all the doors open inside the house so he can visit any part of the kingdom unhindered. I don’t think my father left any instructions for Jugnu to follow.I was to also, on demand, take him out on walks but on a leash.

So basically a cat was to be treated like a….dog.

We have had two fights already, both involved a misunderstanding on issues of the leash.

Our family always had pets. There was a time when we had about eight cats at home. I know cats, and the affectionate ones are a real joy. One can have conversations with them without any issue of comprehension. When H.H Munroe wrote about Tobermury, I completely believed him.

Jugnu is different. Except for my father, he just doesn’t care a damn for any other human. My father, a very gentle creature himself, has spoilt Jugnu to a brat. Jugnu wakes him up at 3 am, so he can be accompanied to the terrace. Mind you, the terrace is kept open for him always, but then his highness needs my father’s company at 3 am and  gets his way.

I thought that this would give me a lot of time to do things as Jugnu will keep to himself . But then time and silence revealed, that we are not so tough after all!

After a nap, we have a life to lead and we have things to do.

So we get busy. First we make sure we look good,

then we  look for spiders to hunt.

In my solitude, I have the computer, the camera, the sketchbook and the mobile phone. When I miss my wife, I call her. When I get bored, I lose a few games of chess to the computer, so Jugnu kind of receded from the list of relationships for a while. Not for long. Three days ago, he realized there was not enough sleep in his eyes, and the spiders are beyond reach. He needed company, so in a most soul stirring contralto, he called me from under the table.

It was an appeal of a life form to another.

Two warm blooded individuals occupying the same space with trivial and illusionary pursuits need each other’s company. Soon Jugnu settled himself in my lap with a most delicious purr.

Our walks outside are more interactive. I look out for squirrels, crows and the presence of a big black tomcat who challenges Jugnu’s territory often.

Like other cats, Jugnu can easily walk on a razor’s edge. Here he is a bit troubled because I moved in front thereby pulling his leash and dis balancing him.

What ever we may believe, however convinced we might be of our strength and greatness, we need someone in life. That some one makes us strong and weak both at the same time. Most of us need more than some one. I need my wife, my son, my parents, my sister, my in-laws, my pets, my friends to complete me. I feel for poor Jugnu. He doesn’t have the most important person in his life, my father, and he looks for him.

Outside the mango tree has sprouted flowers. Swarms of small honey bees descend upon it to sip on the nectar.Evenings are feminine, pink and ornate with the sensual aroma of the mango. It lingers well into the next day. Just like memories and longings for those we love. It is no different for Jugnu.

We are virtualy on an isolated island, compelled by silence and time to reach out and develop a relationship. It is not a compromise, atleast for me. Today I realize how much I miss everyone, but then Jugnu is there to call me and ask me to brush his back with a comb…

2 responses

  1. bharati

    Wonderful, absolutely wonderful

    November 10, 2011 at 10:33 pm

  2. Wyn

    Jugnu sounds exactly like my cat – Toby – the snob. But I never feel alone with him around.

    August 27, 2012 at 11:14 am

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