Meow Meow

After much thought and deliberation, I think my esteemed cat – Freddie should get a mention in this not so esteemed blog. Why a cat? Well, to start with, after last weekend, I thought I should write on the a tirade on

- Our neglect of responsible citizen duty
- Sadness on such a beautiful Taj Colaba building destroyed (where I attended umpteen conferences, wonder what happened to Crystal hall and ball room? Will they look the same again?)
- Fear of stepping inside Oberoi again, where 90% of my client meetings take place
- Frustration on the government laid back attitude and lastly
- Anger. Anger on why? Why this senseless massacre?

But then, I thought, what the use of writing this is? Unless, I actually get up and do something to resolve any of these points, am I not being one of those million people in India, who are going to dissect it to death, then just shrug and say it is hopeless and carry on with their hum drum lives? Anyways, instead I decided to talk about something more cheerful. Something like my cat.

Did I mention in this blog before that I have a cat? I think not. His name is Freddie, four legs, green eyes, whiskers, black ears and tail – the whole works. Apart from an essay on him, I can also say now (and with a considerable amount of envy) that he is soon becoming the most privileged member of our family.

He is allowed to sit on the dinning table (something I was never allowed to, for the sheer fear that it may break into two) at gran ma’s place. He came home one Sunday afternoon, when after lunch I was too full and lazy to actually get up from my chair to shoo him away. Y took pity on him and gave him milk to drink which he greedily gulped away and started meowing for more. Maybe it was written on Y’s face that he is sucker for all things feline and more charity ensued. What followed (and which is now a set pattern) was Freddie comes everyday, he sometimes even sleeps in. Everyone at home has mellowed to him- including me…

All events of our life have a trickle down effect. We may not realize it that time but it is true nonetheless. With Freddie, it has been the same. I buy more milk. I eat more vegetarian – not because I really want to, but because whenever there is a non vegetarian dish being made, I invariably end up giving half of what I eat to Freddie. I may cook vegetarian food, for him its fish/prawns/meat everyday. He even has a thing for butterscotch ice-cream! (Branded cat I say) I don’t go out so much cause I worry he will stay hungry. I am sure if not anyone else then Menaka Gandhi will be proud me. My friends think he is extremely cute (I think Freddie thinks he is good looking too, going by his airs). S and P went gaga over his picture and B wanted to know if I am getting him back to Mumbai. Y gave him the ultimate honour last month. Freddie became ‘Freddie Chutiya’.

I don’t know whether it is a common Indian male or rather any male phenomenon (didn’t find any research on it) that the more they like something or someone, the more they use profanity for it. Like when I saw my best two buddies meet after six years first thing they said was “salee MC/BC (I hope you know the full form) kahan the itne saal kami**” I had a hard time keeping my face from turning beet red. This was a few years back. Now (thanks mostly to taxi drivers in India), I don’t even bat an eyelid. So I think Freddie has made quite an inroad to Y’s heart and the name has caught on... even Freddie responds when we call him Freddie Chutia!

Thinking on these lines I think I can safely put it in my Christmas wish-list that I definitely don’t mind being a cat in my next life!