It was one of those days when I took my notepad and flask filled with tea to my flat’s terrace to sit alone in the night. I jotted down some words under a yellow tungsten glow. I tried to find rhyming words but then abandoned the pursuit unsuccessfully. I started pondering whether it was necessary to rhyme in a poem, many great poets didn’t resort to rhyme as a device in their poems. But again, those poets had a lot of interesting and profound things to say. Do I ? My friends say I do. But then, they’re my acquaintances and thats what I expect from them. I don’t think I am strong enough to take honest opinions from people. False praises keep me going.
While I was dabbling around with words, a cat came sneaking in through the channel gate of the terrace and walked past me. I have a morbid fear for the feline beings. My gaze followed its wagging tail untill the cat was at a safe distance from me. I swear for a moment I saw its tail trace out a line of smoke out of thin air. But then again, it could also have been the smoke coming from my piping hot tea. A writer can never be sure when his imagination takes hold of the sane part of him. Especially more so, at night.
Surprisingly, we didnt share the same interest in each other. It didn’t even bother to look at me. Not even a casual glance of inspection. This was new for me. The usual fear was replaced be a desire to pry into it. A desire to know why the cat didn’t care about me. I tried to coax it to come near me by whistling and waving my fingers in an inviting manner. The animal did take notice. It looked at me and inspected my surroundings as if suddenly made aware of my presence and walked towards me. It halted near my legs and sat down. I could feel its fur against my own. Its obviously being smoother and more magical than mine. My first contact with the cat was divine. In fact it was my first contact with any cat. I never knew this feeling. I tried to soak in more of it. The initial brush on the head were followed by long striding strokes along its spine. I didn’t know an animal could feel as good as, or perhaps even better than a human companion. Suddenly all those people I knew who drooled over animals started making sense. Suddenly I felt solace from all my worries in life. Suddenly all those years of fear seemed misplaced. And suddenly that princess of a cat turned its diabolic gaze towards me and bit me. Its teeth wouldn’t let go of me. I tried to wave it away by jerking my legs violently as I cringed in pain. I grabbed its face and tried to pull it off my legs but it wouldn’t loosen its grip. The pain was bearable but the thought of rabid diseases approaching me wasn’t. Then in that moment of frenzy, I took my flask and smashed its skull open. Its blood smeared across the floor and with intermittent gasping for breath, it stared at me with its vindictive glance for the last time before it closed its eyes.
A morning tea, a delusory pleasure , a smack on its mind
It twirls around, bids adieu and leaves its corpse behind.
Not bad a start, isnt it? How about a dead cat for a muse, huh?